Chapter 25

Solf didn't go back downstairs until the doorbell rang. The idea of being alone with Danika made him uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if it was remorse, but he just couldn't deal with her painful efforts to please in the face of his surly spitefulness.

He noted that all the evidence of Grey's visit was gone, except for the bouquet of roses, which was now sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. In addition, while he'd been sulking upstairs, Danika had apparently whipped up a plate of sandwiches and sliced fruit. She had also gotten dressed and her hair was back in its braids.

Danika was heading hesitantly toward the entryway but backed off as soon as she saw him. He went to open the door. Richard stood there with a concerned smile.

"Hello, Solf. How are you holding up?"

Solf shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still alive, apparently. Some people would say that's a good thing."

Richard pulled an indulgent little grimace and patted Solf on the shoulder as he stepped into the entryway. Solf had somehow expected him to be carrying a briefcase, maybe stuffed with legal papers detailing how he could sue the shit out of his father.

Danika came forward to greet their visitor. "Hello, Zhaarad Barnett," she said, dipping a little bow. "Would you like some coffee or tea?"

"Hey, Danika!" Richard greeted her cheerfully. "Good to see you again! Yes, I'd love some coffee, if it's not too much trouble."

"Oh, not at all!" Danika scurried into the kitchen and brought out a whole coffee service set on a tray, something else Solf didn't even know he had. She set it down on the coffee table and poured out two cups and handed one to Richard. "Do you want cream and sugar?"

"No, sweetie, this is fine. Thank you."

She poured some cream into the next cup and handed it to Solf. He never liked cups that had to sit on saucers, but he took it anyway. "Thanks."

"Well," Richard said, sitting on one of the sofas. He took a sip from his cup and set it down. "I'm not proud to say I was called upon to witness your father's new will," he said heavily. "I'm not sure I've seen anything quite so spiteful in my life, and if it wasn't for the fact that I've got one daughter going to college next year and my youngest getting braces, I would have quit then and there." He regarded Solf levelly. "I figured I'd hang around, just to keep an eye on things." He smiled thinly. "Kind of a spy in the enemy camp."

Solf nodded. He couldn't really blame the guy. "So who's he leaving his money to?"

"He's split it up amongst a number of various beneficiaries," Richard replied. "The Amestrian Veterans Foundation. The Historical Building Trust. Some ranch for retired racehorses. A couple of philanthropic foundations."

"Philanthropic foundations!" Solf scoffed angrily. "That's a good one."

"Yes, well...they were already included in his will, but now they're getting all of it. Your father also added strict instructions that all his assets be liquidated after his death and added to the bequests. The houses, furnishings, cars, boats, horses, books, LPs, everything."

Solf's mouth fell open a little. "What? Wait! Some of that stuff was my mom's!"

"All of which she left to your father, leaving it to him to pass them on to you when he felt you were mature enough appreciate them," Richard explained patiently.

Solf set his cup down with a rattle and pressed his forehead into his hands. "Why would she do that?"

"I never met your mother, Solf, but from what I understand, she was a very sweet, very trusting person. She left everything having to do with finances or legal matters to your father."

"Great. Do I have any recourse?"

Richard shrugged. "Well, you could try to take your father to court, but others have tried that, too."

Solf nodded with rueful bitterness. "Yeah. I sure couldn't afford the cutthroat lawyers he can afford."

"Probably not. And your father's lawyers certainly didn't have my scruples about changing the will."

"So I'm screwed. I'm totally screwed. I'm totally, totally screwed."

Danika quietly set the plate of of sandwiches and fruit on the coffee table along with some small plates and some napkins. Then she stepped back and sort of hovered, wringing her hands. Richard patted the sofa cushion next to him.

"Sit down here, Danika. This concerns you, too, and you should know what's going on." As the girl cautiously lowered herself onto the sofa, Richard turned back to Solf. "You are not totally screwed. Yes, it's tragic that your father thinks so little of you, but you can't sit here wallowing in self-pity. It's not the end of the world. You're not entirely dependant on him, after all. What do you make without your father's matching funds? Seventy? Eighty thousand?"

"Ninety-four," Solf muttered. He heard Danika draw in a quick little breath.

"Well, I hope you realize that that's a lot of money to some people." Richard helped himself to a sandwich, which had been neatly cut into triangles. "These look great! Is this chicken salad?"

"Yes," Danika said softly.

Richard bit into his sandwich. "Mm!" He chewed for a bit and swallowed his mouthful. "That's delicious! Thank you, sweetie! That was so nice of you!"

"You're very welcome, Zhaarad. Father, please have a sandwich."

"I'm not hungry."

Danika pushed a little stern firmness into her voice. "You haven't eaten all morning."

Solf met the girl's solemn gaze. Seems she was taking care of him with a vengeance.

"Fine," he muttered, taking a sandwich and biting into it. He had no idea when she made this, but it was a wonderful balance between creamy and chewy and tangy and savory. He could tell it was mixed with that same vegetable stuff she'd marinated that pork roast in. It was just a little thing but it was so good. He considered the rest of the sandwich in his hand as he swallowed. This is what Danika did. This was how she took care of people, whether it was a whole clan of uncles and aunts and cousins or just one antisocial bachelor. She did it without fuss and she did it without expecting anything back. He looked back at her.

"This is really good," he said. "Thanks, kiddo."

It was not much of an endearment, but it seemed to mean the world to her. That seemed to be all she wanted because she smiled with so much gratitude it was hard to keep looking at her.

Solf cleared his throat. "Okay. So, I make a decent wage, compared to some," he said to Richard. He waved his sandwich to indicate the apartment interior. "It's not going to be enough to cover this place."

"That's true," Richard agreed in a businesslike now-we're-talking tone. He turned to Danika. "I've got a job for you, young lady."

The girl perked up brightly. "What would you like me to do?"

"I want you to get on the internet and start apartment hunting."

"Hey, wait a—"

Richard cut Solf off gently, holding up his hand. "This needs to be done, and it'll be good for you to do it together. Danika needs to be in on this, not kept in the dark. Knowledge is power. It also dispels anxiety. Something my dad always taught me." He turned back to Danika. "I want you to start a list. Probably best to keep within a decent driving distance of your school. You'll save on gas. And keep to around a fifteen hundred to two thousand a month rent."

Danika's eyes grew large. "That's so much!"

"It's a reasonable amount, based on your dad's salary. Your rent should be about a third of your monthly income." Richard glanced at Solf. "This place goes for at least twice that much."

Danika stared at him, then at Solf, who nodded. She still seemed incredulous, almost as if it was somehow offensive and she was trying not to show it. Then she gave a nod and stood up. "I'll go get the laptop."

"Right!" Richard took another sandwich and stood up as well. "Solf, would you mind letting me take a look at your finances?"

Solf nodded morosely. The idea of having to leave this apartment was twisting his gut. As tasty as Danika's sandwiches were, he really didn't want to eat anything else.

Sitting in front of the PC, Richard pored over Solf's bank and credit card accounts and rattled on about CDs, short term bonds, and money market accounts. He chided Solf a little about not having looked into these things a long time ago, considering how much of an income he had until now. Yes, now he felt stupid about taking his father's money for granted.

But he couldn't quite give Richard his full attention. He kept glancing back at Danika. He had not let her enter his office up until now, but now she was ensconced on the little divan, his old laptop open on the footrest in front of her. He had given the laptop to her since he had recently gotten himself a newer model. When the letter concerning online predators came from the school, he just handed it to her to read herself and considered his parental duty to be fulfilled. He was entirely uncomfortable discussing the subject with her.

He was certainly not comfortable with her picking out their next apartment, but he cringed even more at the idea of having to find one himself. He didn't want to live somewhere else. He loved his apartment. He especially didn't want to live in some place that someone else had been in. He did not like places with "history." The only history there was in this place was his.

"So your credit card debt is pretty substantial, but it's not unmanageable," Richard remarked, scrolling through Solf's various accounts. He smirked a little. "Looks like you've been spending a lot less money on food lately. That's good." He smiled over his shoulder at Danika. "Who needs restaurants when you've got such a gourmet chef here, huh?"

Danika glanced back at him with a dimpled smile.

"Well," Richard continued, frowning thoughtfully at the monitor. "This doesn't really look so bad. I think you can probably figure out how to live within your means. Your new ones, that is. Cutting your rent in half is half the battle right there. You probably don't need a cleaning service." He peered at Solf over the tops of his cheaters. "Frankly I think it would do you good to clean up after yourself."

"Oh, I could do all that!" Danika put in quickly.

That sounded pretty fair to Solf, but Richard looked back at the girl. "Well, maybe you could, sweetie, but you shouldn't have to. Your school work is more important." He turned back to Solf. "I'm running on the assumption that you'll want Danika to go to college."

Solf glanced at the girl again, who looked as though the comment took her by surprise. "Well…I hadn't actually thought about it," Solf admitted.

Richard turned in his seat. "Do you want to go to college, Danika?"

"I…I want to…but…"

"You know, you can apply for scholarships. Bear in mind," he added, "that being a minority, you could be eligible for grants, even being half a minority."

Danika's brow furrowed as she thought about that. "I think...I think I'd rather be accepted because I'm a good student."

Yeah, well, money from the government isn't something you throw rocks at. This was something else Solf didn't want to think about.

"Atta girl!" Richard smiled at her like she was one of his own kids. "How's the apartment hunting going?"

Danika smiled back. "I've found a bunch already!" she said. "The pictures look really nice!"

"They're probably photoshopped," Solf sniffed.

"Your lease is up at the end of this month, I noticed," Richard said. "That's just a little over two weeks. I wouldn't spend too much time turning up my nose at some of these places."

Solf sighed to himself. He wasn't sure Danika was the best judge. She used to live on a goat farm.

By the time Richard left, leaving behind all kinds of promises and assurances that things weren't so bad, Solf felt a lot less panicked, but he felt depressed. No more luxury apartment. No more vacations on the Donbachi Riviera. No more custom suits. No more state-of-the-art electronics. He would just be another sad little prole who had to wash his own sheets and clean his own toilet.

He returned to the office and dropped into the chair in front of his desktop and clicked on the free cell icon. He idly moved the cards around, clicking on a new game the moment he had to actually think about strategy.

Danika sat back on the divan. "I've got a list of thirty apartments."

"Thirty!" Solf groaned. He turned in his seat. "I don't want to look at thirty apartments!"

She looked back at him, a little surprised but with forbearing patience, like he was a spoiled child. He was, and he was only now starting to realize just how much. "We don't have to look at all of them. I bookmarked the sites so you can look at those first and then pick the ones that look best."

"I can harldy wait." He closed the free cell game and stood up, stretching. They'd been in that office for nearly two hours, crunching numbers and tweaking his life to the point where he could no longer recognize it. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a few moments to visualize life in the slow lane.

Danika looked up at him, her blue eyes warm with concern. "Father, I think it's going to be all right. I don't think Zhaarad Barnett would tell you that if it weren't true."

Solf sighed. As difficult an adjustment as it was going to be, she was probably right, objectively speaking. They weren't going to be homeless. They wouldn't starve. They- -

They.

When did he start thinking they without actually thinking about it?

Danika started to get up. "Let me fix you something nice for dinner."

Solf shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Danika sat back down, apparently undaunted. "You might be later. Then I'll fix something."

"Whatever."

He continued to just stand there for a few moments, staring at the carpet. He had absolutely no motivation to move from that spot. Anything he would normally do would remind him too much of the life he was going to have to leave behind.

"Do you want to look at some of these apartments?"

"No. I really don't want to do that right now."

Danika give a quiet little sigh. "We don't have that much time, you know. Zhaarad Barnett said- -"

"The lease is up an the end of the month," Solf recited wearily. "Yeah, I know."

Danika scooted over and patted the spot beside her on the divan. "Come and sit," she said, gently insistent. "I'll show you the nicest ones I found."

Solf stirred and turned his head to eye her narrowly. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Danika looked up at him, surprised. "I'm just trying to help."

Solf rubbed his forehead. There was a ball of a dull ache somewhere behind it, probably from lack of sleep. "Okay, fine. I'll look at a couple," he grumbled.

"No."

"What's wrong with this one? I think it's nice."

"It's too...brown."

"All right." Danika went back to her bookmarks and clicked on yet another page. He had managed to reject twenty apartments so far. "This one's mostly blue," she remarked.

Solf stared at the screen, feeling his brain turn to cheese. "It looks just like the other one, Except blue."

Danika was silent for a few moments. Then she asked, "Well, what color would you like?"

"I don't know." Solf leaned his head back against the divan and closed his eyes. "Red and white stripes. Like a circus tent."

"Eh-h!" Danika finally threw her hands up. "Papa! Now you're just being- -"

Solf lifted his head. "Wait. What?"

Danika put a hand up to her mouth, chagrined. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to snap like that!"

"No, not that. You called me Papa."

Danika stared at him for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Oh!" She seemed more embarrassed by that. "I'm sorry! I'm just so used to hearing my cousins call my uncles Papa!" she explained quickly. "And...and Mama would call you Papa when she talked to me about you! It just slipped out! I won't- -"

Solf waved his hand. "Don't get all bent out of shape about it. I'm not complaining. Up till now you've been calling me Father, which is kind of, you know, formal."

"I meant to be respectful," Danika replied. She was acting like she'd committed some awful faux pas.

"Okay, I appreciate that. It's just kind of...stiff. I think we're past that point."

Danika watched him cautiously. "What would you prefer?"

Solf considered that for a moment. "Papa's fine, I guess." He smirked a little. "Just don't call me Dad. I called my father that and look where it got me."