Free The Living Room by Bill Rolfe

tomorrow?”
    “Not during the day. But Brenda will come and bring Jennifer. She’s six and has a form of incurable cancer. She hasn’t been well this week, which is why we were rushing to get the room done. I’m sorry to move so fast, Daniel.”
    “No, no, I’m ready. So I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
    “Yes.” She smiled.
    “And you’ll be staying the night?”
    “Yes. Jennifer and I will sleep right upstairs if you need anything,” she added, holding back a smile.
    “I see. Well then, see you tomorrow night.”
    He left her in the car and headed inside. In need of some reflection to recap the day’s events, he skipped dinner, brushed his teeth, and went straight to bed.
----
    He woke early and jumped into the outside chores. The hot sun rose and warmed the air. Working in the front yard, he could see dust from the roadway leading to his house. He felt his stomach tighten but was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was Mrs. Lipton, the realtor, wife of the hardware store owner. He had forgotten that they had loosely arranged her visit days ago.
    She climbed out of the light pink Cadillac she used as a traveling office and straightened her oversized floral dress. She was a heavyset woman but reconciled to her size, and she dressed flamboyantly with bright colors and large hats.
    After a brief introduction, she got right to the point. It soon became apparent from her manners that she hadn’t sold anything for a while and didn’t really care if she did. She reminded him of an old teacher from high school. It was obvious that she hadn’t been happy in a while; and she seemed more interested in maintaining the ashes on the end of her cigarette than engaging in conversation.
    “So, what do you want for it?” She readied her notepad.
    “Well, I’m not sure yet. Where could I get an appraisal?”
    This seemed to confuse Mrs. Lipton and, at the same time, irritate her.
    “My husband tells me to drive out here because you want to sell the place. So do you?”
    “Yes, but…”
    “Well, I can’t sell it if you don’t tell me what you want for it!” She shook her head as if she were educating a child.
    “I understand, ma’am.” This irritated her more. “But I want to know what it’s worth before I try to price it. Doesn’t that sound like a smart thing to do?”
    Now she was offended.
    “Well, Mr. Clay, when you’re finished smartening up, here is my card.” She turned and waddled back to her car.
    Daniel wanted to stop her, maybe even apologize, but it was too late. He hadn’t noticed Brenda pulling up to the house. He couldn’t see anyone sitting in the passenger seat. He took a deep breath and hoped for the possibility that she was alone. But she wasn’t. After exiting the car, she walked around to the passenger side and opened the door to the rear seats.
    “Jennifer, we’re here, sweetheart.”
    There she was, lying down in the back. The little girl sat up; she was as pale as a ghost and unbelievably frail in her pretty red dress. It draped over her like it was three sizes too big, although it used to fit just right. Brenda walked past Daniel to help support the little girl as she took halting steps toward the house. Brenda nodded at him, trying hard to be a well-mannered guest.
    “Hello, Daniel. Claire says hi.”
    Daniel smiled back and tried to be casual about the arrival of his house guest. He wasn’t nearly as comfortable as he appeared and stayed out of the way unless called upon for any assistance. He spent most of the sunlit hours tinkering on the exterior just to avoid going back into the house.
    When the sun began to set, he paced in the kitchen, waiting for his support to come home from work. He listened curiously to the music Brenda had put on upstairs and no longer wondered why the old record player was included with the equipment. It was almost classical, a slow and simple melody played only by a soothing flute.
    He could also hear Brenda speaking with the little