Sometimes Michael shut down. Sometimes I worked too late. That evening, while Michael cooked pasta, I brought up a letter from the building association.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Special assessment.”
“How much?”
“That building had better be getting a gold roof.”
“New elevators.”
“They should sing.”
Then I sat at the counter.
“I have been thinking.”
Michael gave me a wary look.
“About?”
“Selling.”
A year earlier, that word would have frightened him. He leaned against the counter.
“All right.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What do you think?”
He considered the question.
“I think the assessment is ridiculous.”
“Agreed.”
“I think we could get a good price.”
“Probably.”
“I think I would miss the view.”
“Me too.”
“And I think if you want to sell, we should talk about what comes next.”
“We?”
“If we decide to buy something together.”
Ownership without threat. Partnership without assumption.
