“Im so tired of hearing all her stories about her family!” I would grumble. Shes our neighbour, you could at least listen, couldnt you? my husband would say quietly. Its always the same tale, over and over again. I had always considered myself a patient, even-tempered woman, but not when it came to Mrs. Grace. Somehow, my husband never understood why she exasperated me so. There was a time when Mrs. Grace had been a family friend. She was more than a decade older than mefifteen years, perhaps. When her parents passed away, she and her two sisters inherited the family home. On the surface, everything seemed straightforward: they would sell the house and divide the money evenly, each going their own way. But, of course, things were never that simple.
Id never heard the full story, but my gran let slip that Mrs. Grace had pleaded to stay on in the house, as shed hit a rough patch in her life, and she promised shed pay her sisters back as soon as her affairs were in order. The sisters, being reasonable, agreed and gave up their claim officially, trusting Mrs. Graces word. What really happened after is a bit foggy to me even now. Though, I suspected she never did pay them back.
Almost every week, Mrs. Grace would visit me, always harping on about her sisters. Theyve all forgotten me, you know. Not a letter, not a single phone call. All they care about is moneynothing else matters to them.
Well, what did she expect? She said shed repay them; of course, they were upset. But in her telling, her sisters were always cruel, while she remained the long-suffering saint. I even thought of writing to them again, shed sigh, but Ive barely enough pounds to keep the house going as it is. Shouldnt they help? Its their home, too, isnt it?
But didnt they sign it over to you? Id ask.
And what if they did? shed retort. They grew up in that house; their father made that home. Dont they care? Dont they remember?
They might feel hurt that you havent repaid what you owed them. You did promise them their share.
In the first place, they accepted the agreementnobody forced anyone. In the second, I said Id pay them when I could, and I still cant. Honestly, how cruel to force me to sell this place just to hand over their share! Where would I go? No one stops to consider my situation, just their own pockets.
Id glance at my husband as she spoke. Hed just sit there, with that knowing look of his. No further questions, no more confusion on his part as to why I dreaded Mrs. Graces visits.
