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The Right Thing
Norwic Bay was west of the lake, perched atop rough, wave beaten cliffs. It was a quiet town, a tic tac toe board of shops surrounded by homes that reeked of midwestern suburbia.
On the corner of Jefferson and Voleur St, far enough from the water that the only indication of where you were was the clear shot of the sky between buildings, and a faint scent of fish, a two story brick building stood. A weathered sign sat above the doorway, Keller’s Appraisals & Antiques. The windows were cloudy, yellowed advertisements and missing pet posters crowded near the door. It was too empty for an antique store, but no one ever questioned that. Norwic Bay was a trusting town that way. Oblivious to the unpleasant nature of one of their residents.
But they had little reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary. Tim Keller seemed to be the picture of an upstanding townsman, his wife had died two years prior and that worked to his advantage. There was pity for him, admiration for raising his teenage daughter, Macey, but rarely suspicion. Sometimes a resident would mention something peculiar, but it was quickly shrugged off. "He's grieving," was the reply if anything was voiced, "leave him be."
They had every right to be concerned, anyone who really looked at Tim’s business would’ve seen it. He wasn’t the most discrete of con men. But, that was just it, Norwic Bay wasn’t the small town that pried into everyone’s business. It was a community of anti socialites, they kept their heads down and a mutual understanding seemed to keep a certain level of distance from each resident to the next.
But Macey knew it all. She was far too quiet to ever expose her father, but she was logical and had claimed her own reserved strength after her mother died. She knew he was using her, that her innocence made the customers more likely to sell for pitiful prices. A part of her hoped if she did enough, if she listened enough, if she caused him enough good fortune, that things would go back to the way that had been before. Before Lana had gone and Tim had turned his back to the entire world, including his daughter.
It was the epitome of mid-October weather. Wind whipped the trees back and forth, rolling litter down the streets like tumbleweeds. The air was different this time of year, biting, threatening lake effect snow at any moment. Macey sat in the apartment above the shop, numbly typing an essay. It wasn’t lost on her how small her world had become, the miniscule scope of lives she had touched. There had been a time when she had a tight knit friend group, when she had participated in the track team and raised her hand in class.
She was still part of the friend group, technically, she was reluctantly invited to places but it was rare that she went. If she did, she could fake happiness for a few hours, maybe even laugh. For the first few months after her mother died she’d had optimism, that soon enough her dad would come back to her. That life would return to normal, that maybe the gaping hole in their lives would shrink. But the hole had only grown, had only separated the father and daughter further. Macey had retreated inward, she did well in her classes, but she remained silent as often as possible. Interaction had become utterly exhausting.
It’d been two years, everyone expected her to be okay by now. But her life had become simply moving through the motions of a day.
“Mace!” Tim’s irritated voice called her, startling her. She knew his tone well. He needed her downstairs. She walked down the creaky steps, steeling herself. She seemed to fold into herself, invisible, quiet. Her hands were shoved in the pockets of her sweatshirt, her rust colored hair hanging limply down her back. Lana used to braid it but Macey didn’t really have the energy to do anything with it herself.
“There you are,” Tim turned from the counter, his plaid shirt hanging over his stomach. He looked far older than he was, traces of silver in his brown hair. Bags were under his eyes but Macey ignored them, just like he ignored hers. Neither of them got much sleep. Their minds never seemed to turn off. But comfort in each other was not an option. The chasm between them was deep and neither made a move to cross.
“Dust” He handed her the feather duster. There was never a request in his words. Just a blank statement. She took the object, her eyes avoiding his as she quietly moved towards her work. Only a few knick knacks and truly worthless items sat about. Anything of value was under appraised and sold for it’s real worth online. A strange business Tim operated, but it was how he did things. And the presence of Macey gave legitimacy to his operation, a dead wife didn’t hurt either.
The bell above the door jingled, Macey flinching at the sound. The tension and silence that filled the shop when it was just her and Tim was uncomfortable but the presence of someone new always unnerved her. She edged behind a shelf, watching as a suited man surveyed the store. He gave off the air of importance, clearly someone passing through. His suit was too crisp, his hair too gelled, his demeanor too city-like to be a resident of Norwic Bay.
“Hi there welcome to Keller’s, can I help you today?” Tim stood eagerly behind the counter, his mood jovial, his smile fake. It made Macey feel sick to watch his act.
“Yes, could you tell me quickly, just around what you think this might be worth?” The man stepped towards Tim and removed a worn coin from his pocket. Macey craned to get a better view as her father’s eyebrows shot up.
“This, well, this could be worth thousands…” His voice stammered as his eyes flitted from the coin to the man. He was caught off guard, she could tell, the price was too high for him to be doing his usual act.
“Good, good, I forgot my wallet and there's a woman out there,” The man pointed outside the shop and Macey followed his gaze. Among a collection of dirtied blankets a woman sat, a tin can in front of her. Macey had seen her before around town and she felt a pang of sadness and guilt before tearing her focus back to her father and the man.
“Well it could be a fake,” Tim tried frantically to backtrack, his eyes hungrily taking in the coin.
“My grandfather didn’t collect fakes. I just wanted to know about how much I’d be giving, thank you for your help. How much do I owe you?” As Tim gave the price of a short appraisal with a look of defeat Macey felt a small smile form on her lips. It wasn’t as if they really needed the money, it’d help the homeless woman far more.
“Macey, get over here.” Tim’s voice was cutting as he watched the man exchange words with the women and pass her the coin.
“Yeah?”
“Go get some food from upstairs and trade with that lady,” His eyes were fueled by anger.
“But-” She began to interject before he spewed some expletives and any hope of discouragement died on her tongue. She hurried up the stairs, her head pounding, it was wrong, of course. Everything her father did seemed to be wrong, and she was his pawn. She had no power, simply did his bidding. She looked out the second floor window down at the street where the woman sat and pity, confusion, and anger coursed through her veins. Macey rummaged through the fridge, gathering a small bag of food. As she turned to to head back down the stairs she looked towards her corner of the apartment, particularly her dresser
When Lana had gone to the hospital for the last time, they’d taken off her wedding ring, a family heirloom of gold and diamond, and given it to Tim. Macey remembered the night well, the smell of cleaning liquid and crying and frantic calls between doctors and nurses. It had felt like a dream, a nightmare. Certain moments were in focus, others were blurred by time and pain.
But the ring, Tim had kept it for a few days, on his bedside table. A week later, in a fit of anger he’d thrown out everything that even remotely tied their new reality to the one in which Lana had lived. He discarded photographs and albums, her phone, her clothes, wedding pictures and her favorite books. Her ring was the last thing to go, which gave Macey time to root through the garbage and salvage it. She’d never mentioned it, instead kept it in the bottom drawer of her dresser, a small reminder of what had once been.
It was no doubt worth something, perhaps not as much as the coin but still.
Without a second thought she jerked open the drawer and grabbed the ring and shoved it in her back pocket. Her heart pounded as she walked down the steps where Tim waited.
“There you are. Don’t mess this up Mace, I swear. That woman’s probably too stupid to understand what she’s got so just give her the food, get the coin, and give it to me. Don’t ruin this for us.” It was his version of a pep talk, making it known she would be a disappointment if she didn’t take part in his schemes. Macey nodded wordlessly.
The door jingled as Macey entered. Her footsteps were heavy, hollow. She dropped the coin into her father's palm, watching his face morph into a smirk that made her stomach turn. She climbed the stairs to the apartment, unable to make herself share his joy. He was responsible. If it wasn’t for his greediness she wouldn’t have had to lose the last remaining piece of her mother. She’d done the moral thing but at what cost? What had she gained by giving up the last physical evidence of Lana?
A voice inside her that sounded remarkably like her mother seemed to respond,
You did the right thing.
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