Free Lion's Share by Rochelle Rattner

shine through anyway; the apartment was high enough to avoid soot and traffic noise. “It’s a beautiful day out,” Ed said into the receiver, almost as if reading Jana’s thoughts. “Go out on your balcony, read a novel. The work will still be there tomorrow, or the next day. No one’s standing over you.”
    Turning back into the room, Jana held the entire apartment before her. The front door opened onto a long hallway that had two rooms off it: the kitchen and the bedroom; the bathroom, between these, could be entered from either room. The living room itself was huge and had French doors which could be closed to form two rooms. It impressed her as more comfortable than her own apartment, with her paints everywhere and no place to sit except the bed. Two people could easily live here. Taking a deep breath, she recalled an article she’d read a few years ago in New York Magazine or The New Yorker discussing life in singles bars—it mentioned that people with rent-stabilized apartments were very much in demand. The superficiality had struck her so much at the time that she’d quoted passages to several people. Yet here she was stooping to that level.
    â€œI know, dear, I know,” Ed said. “Nobody promised it would be easy. But remember, I’m here. Call me back if you want.” He put the phone down, lit a cigarette, and stared off into space, almost unaware of Jana’s presence. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, expelling a long stream of smoke. “She was desperate, and I didn’t want to say I’d call back later.”
    â€œNo problem. Was that your sister?” Jana was anxious to reassure herself this wasn’t some girlfriend.
    â€œNo, no. She’s an old friend. An old friend with a lot of problems.”
    â€œSounds like she’s got a good friend in you.”
    â€œShe used to, I guess. But there’s a limit. I don’t want to get caught up in her hysteria again.” Ed listlessly stretched his arm across the back of the sofa but got to his feet before Jana could come over to join him. “Why don’t we get out of here before Kathe calls back? Come on, I’ll treat you to brunch.” Jana glanced toward her watch, then decided the time didn’t matter, she could always take a later bus. She wanted to learn more about Kathe.
    They took the elevator down, walked through the cool marble lobby that was the high point of most pre-war buildings, and emerged onto the hot, muggy street. They walked along West End Avenue in silence among Orthodox families returning from the dozens of synagogues tucked away in this area, the men in heavy black coats that looked out of place in this heat. In stark contrast, there were groups of people with beach towels over their arms.
    Ed guided her toward the doorway to Marsala Cafe, a little place on the side street just west of Broadway. “The heat’s been getting to me this weekend,” Jana said, cautiously eyeing the outside tables. “Would you mind sitting inside?”
    â€œMy sentiments exactly. I usually love sunlight, but this humidity is intense even for me.” Inside the air-conditioning was on high, but people were packed close enough to absorb any chill. They let themselves be ushered to a booth whose high back gave off a somewhat exaggerated air of privacy.
    â€œHave you ever heard that old saying about how people come to resemble their dogs?” Ed asked once they were seated. “Kathe has long, straight, strawberry blonde hair, parted in the center and curling slightly upward at the ends—just like a Yorkshire terrier.”
    â€œAnd she has a Yorkshire terrier as a pet, right?” Jana replied. She quickly decided on scrambled eggs and let the menu rest unopened on the table in front of her. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness after the bright sun outside. Ed exchanged a few words with the waitress; this obviously was a