Chapter 14
My back slouches against Mickey's locked bedroom door and my stomach rumbles. I bite a piece of crisp sourdough, partially surprised that I could resist this long, especially now since the entire apartment smells like a bakery. Yet even if I sample a second or third slice, a mountain of buttered toast sits on a plate next to me. It's like I went crazy. I cooked the entire loaf hoping she'd be enticed out. Of course she didn't cave.
"I don't understand why you just didn't tell us," I say to the doorway. "None of us knew, not Sophie, not Carol and certainly not Jack. Anyway I spoke to Artie about the issue in length and he wants to look at your application. He can help you. Or at least he thinks he might be able to. Jack and I are going to see him tomorrow morning – we want you to come with."
Mickey certainly played this card close to her chest and I wonder how long she's known for. The thought has me shoving another piece of toast in my mouth.
"The thing is that Artie's probably going to get a pay out and I won't."
"I don't understand."
"Well I have business contents insurance and Artie has building insurance."
"Okay...so what's the problem?"
"Our insurers have different points of view. My insurer believes that the building wasn't properly maintained and so they refuse to pay one cent."
"But that's not true, is it?"
"Artie wouldn't even pay to fix the front door, do you remember? Then the place got broken into because he believes maintenance costs should be paid by the tenant."
"Mickey, you two always argued over the contract fundamentals and who should pay what. That's how the two of you fell in love."
"The fire report said is was the electrics weren't maintained," Mickey replies. "I just wasn't responsible for that."
"Yes," I agree.
"Do you understand the implications of that?"
"No, not really."
"Well firstly electrics run up the wall, so when they caught on fire, no one saw smoke. The fire fighters had no chance of putting it out. It was a furnace in the shop. That's why everything is warped and ruined and I've lost everything –"
I hear her sobbing on the other side of the doorway.
"Mickey, please let me in."
"You'll only get me to take his side."
"There aren't sides Mickey, not between you and Artie. But if there were I'm on your side. But...." My voice trails off. I don't know whether I will ever be able to get through.
I am on her side. I am. Of course I am. I wouldn't be the queen of complex carbohydrates if I didn't care about her.
"But what?" she asks through sobs.
"The two of you should be on the same side, working against the insurers. Together you might beat the insurance company but if you blame Artie, you might lose him forever. You were head over heels for him, remember? You are still his girlfriend, aren't you?"
"Yes, I think so, I'm just very angry at him at the moment."
"We'll see him tomorrow, the two of you can work this out and beat them together. You'll see. Artie's a great guy, he wants to help." The sobbing stops and I think we're almost about to make a breakthrough when the doorbell startles me. I jump up from my seated position. The bedroom door hurls open and Mickey storms out. "I'll get my own front door thank you very much, traitor." She glares as she storms to the intercom.
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Phoebe's Performance
ChickLitFormer musician and twenty-something Phoebe Vermont hasn't played piano for years. Once a rising teenage star, in her "older years" she prefers to lead a performance-free, low-key existence, without theatrics. She plays things so safe that she's pr...