Chapter 3 - Don’t Ask About the Deed
Tasha called Lorraine immediately.
Her mother answered on the first ring.
“Why is Maya talking?”
Tasha put the phone on speaker.
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
Lorraine heard the silence.
“Tasha?”
“How did you know Marcus was here?”
A pause.
“I talked to Maya earlier.”
“When?”
“After school.”
“Maya hasn’t been at school. School starts Monday.”
Another pause.
Marcus looked at Tasha.
Tasha’s expression hardened.
“Mom.”
“I called her tablet.”
“You told my ten-year-old not to talk about our finances?”
“I told her children shouldn’t repeat adult business.”
“You mentioned the deed.”
Lorraine went silent.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Hi, Lorraine.”
“Marcus.”
The warmth in her voice vanished.
“You need to stay out of this.”
“You sent my son’s mother a message telling her not to let me ask about a deed.”
“Because you always involve yourself in things that don’t concern you.”
“My son lives in that house.”
“Jayden is welcome there because I allow it.”
Tasha’s head snapped up.
“What did you just say?”
Lorraine exhaled.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re upset.”
“Yes.”
“Then we should discuss this privately.”
Marcus muttered, “Convenient.”
Lorraine ignored him.
“Tasha, I have never put you or those children out.”
“You’ve threatened to.”
“When you stopped paying what we agreed.”
“What did we agree?”
Silence.
Tasha repeated, “What did we agree?”
“You would contribute toward the property.”
“The property or rent?”
“Don’t play word games.”
“I’ve paid you one thousand two hundred fifty dollars every month for almost seven years.”
“And you’ve had a four-bedroom house for less than market rent.”
Marcus crossed his arms.
Tasha’s eyes glistened.
“Grandma owned this house outright.”
“That was before taxes, repairs, insurance—”
“Which I also pay.”
Lorraine stopped.
Marcus looked sharply at Tasha.
“You pay the taxes?”
“Property taxes and homeowners insurance come out of my account.”
Marcus laughed once.
It was humorless.
“So what exactly does Lorraine pay?”
“Marcus,” Lorraine snapped.
“No, I’d love to know.”
“You have absolutely no standing here.”
“Maybe not.”
Marcus looked at Tasha.
“But she does.”
Lorraine’s voice cooled.
“The deed is in my name.”
Tasha gripped the counter.
“Why?”
“Your grandmother made that decision.”
“When?”
“Before she died.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“You were overwhelmed.”
“With what?”
“You had three children. Eli was barely one. Damon had just left. You were struggling.”
The sentence struck like an accusation dressed as concern.
Lorraine continued.
“Your grandmother believed I was better positioned to protect the property.”
Tasha swallowed.
“Protect it from who?”
No answer.
“From me?”
“Tasha.”
“Say it.”
“You were not stable financially.”
Marcus saw the words land.
Tasha’s face did not crumble.
It hardened.
“I was twenty-nine years old raising three kids.”
“And I helped you.”
“By charging me rent in Grandma’s paid-off house?”
“You are being manipulated.”
Marcus scoffed.
Lorraine’s voice sharpened.
“Marcus has never liked me.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“He comes in here waving six hundred dollars like he’s the only parent who has ever sacrificed.”
Marcus opened his mouth.
Tasha raised one finger toward him.
“Not now.”
Marcus stopped.
Tasha returned to the phone.
“I want to see the deed.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Tasha went still.
“What?”
“You are emotional. We can discuss this after you calm down.”
“I asked to see a document involving the house I live in.”
“And I said later.”
“You didn’t say later. You said no.”
Lorraine sighed.
“I’m coming over.”
Tasha disconnected the call.
Marcus stared at her.
“She’s coming here?”
“Apparently.”
Marcus gathered the receipts.
“What are you doing?”
“Making room.”
“For what?”
“The circus.”
Despite herself, Tasha almost smiled.
It vanished quickly.
Marcus looked at her.
“Why didn’t you ever question this?”
Tasha leaned against the counter.
“Because my mother was the person who showed up.”
“When?”
“When everybody else disappeared.”
He knew some of what she meant.
Damon Ellis, Maya and Eli’s father, had been unreliable for years. Not cruel. Not dangerous. Just inconsistent in the exhausting way that forced everyone else to plan around his absence.
Lorraine had driven Eli to urgent care at midnight.
She had watched all three children when Tasha worked weekend shifts.
She had brought groceries.
She had paid Tasha’s car note twice.
“She helped me survive,” Tasha said.
“That doesn’t mean she gets your house.”
“If it is my house.”
Marcus looked at Lillian’s photograph.
“I heard your grandmother.”
“You heard one conversation twelve years ago.”
“I remember it because she looked straight at me.”
“What did she say?”
Marcus did not hesitate.
“She said, ‘Marcus, whatever happens between you and Tasha, this house is for her and those children. Don’t ever let anybody make her feel homeless in her own family.’”
Tasha stared at him.
Her eyes filled despite every effort to stop them.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
The doorbell rang.
Nobody moved.
It rang again.
Tasha wiped beneath one eye.
Marcus headed toward the living room.
“Stay here.”
Tasha gave him a look.
“This is my house, remember?”
He stepped aside.
She opened the door herself.
Lorraine Brooks stood there in a cream pantsuit, silver-streaked braids pulled neatly behind her head and a leather handbag hanging from her arm.
Not the $189 handbag.
Something much more expensive.
Her eyes moved from Tasha to Marcus.
Then to the receipts on the coffee table.
“So,” she said.
“We’re doing this.”
Tasha folded her arms.
“I want the deed.”
Lorraine stepped inside.
“You want a lot of things when Marcus gets in your ear.”
“This has nothing to do with him.”
Lorraine’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s interesting.”
She turned toward Marcus.
“Did you tell her?”
Marcus’s posture changed.
Tasha noticed.
“Tell me what?”
Neither answered.
Tasha’s stomach tightened.
“Marcus.”
Lorraine gave him a thin smile.
“You came here accusing her of spending your money?”
Marcus’s jaw flexed.
“Tasha,” he began.
Lorraine finished for him.
“Maybe he should tell you why he’s been meeting me for three months.”
Tasha looked at Marcus.
Every trace of softness disappeared from her face.
“Meeting you about what?”
Lorraine’s smile faded.
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Marcus lowered his phone.
And Tasha suddenly understood that she was not the only person in the room who had been keeping secrets.
