She was fairly shocked when I told her not only did I not want her to sell the house, but I would be living there.
“Oh, Brooke,” she sighs. “I remember you when you were only this high!”
She holds up a hand at about mid-hip, to indicate how big I was in her memory of me. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
“I have to tell you, Brooke,” she says, “the real estate market is insane right now. You can’t even imagine what price I could get you for this house. Enough for you to buy your dream apartment back in the city. You could even live in Manhattan if you wanted.”
A vein pulses in my temple. “I appreciate that, but I’m not interested.”
“You know, the real estate bubble won’t last forever. You should be smart about this.”
“I’m fine,” I say tightly. “Really.”
“What do you want with that dusty old house anyway?”
Estelle fixes her brown eyes on me, waiting for my answer. It’s not an entirely unfair question. It’s not like my most recent memories of this town are good. But there was a time I was happy here. In some ways, I spent the happiest years of my life in this house. Back when I was young and carefree.
Or maybe part of me is still a rebellious teenager, who wanted to come back here solely because my parents would never let me after I got pregnant.
“This is my goddamn house, Estelle,” I say in a low voice. “And I’m allowed to do whatever I want with it without having to justify it to you.”
Estelle’s false eyelashes flutter as if she’s shocked I spoke to her that way. I certainly would not have said something like that back when I was this high.
“You know,” she says, “your parents would be very disappointed that you disobeyed their wishes.”
Truthfully, I’m shocked my parents left me the house at all. After I started mailing their monthly checks back to them, uncashed, I figured I was out of the will. But there was no one else for them to leave their estate to. So I got it all by default.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Please don’t bother me again, Estelle.”
Her bright red lips part, and for a moment, I’m certain she’s going to argue with me. But instead, she turns on her heel and gets back into her Lincoln. Her car zooms away just as Tim’s Prius slides into my driveway. I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the tension from our confrontation. It works—a little.
“Wow,” Tim says when I climb into the passenger’s seat. “I haven’t seen you dressed up in a long time.”
I squirm as I slide the seatbelt into place. “I’m not dressed up.”
“Right. Me either.”
Although he does look a bit dressed up. He’s wearing a light blue dress shirt, and he’s even put on a tie. Back when we were kids, I never saw him wear anything besides a T-shirt and jeans, but this suits him.
I don’t invite him to come in, and he doesn’t seem upset about it. I don’t know what Josh will make of me bringing home some guy, especially if that guy is the assistant principal of his school. At the very least, it could start some uncomfortable rumors.
“Where are we going?” I ask him.
“It’s a bar that opened up a few years ago—the Shamrock. It’s pretty quiet, decent food. Or just beer, if that’s all you want.”
I nod, musing to myself that the last time I saw Tim, neither of us was old enough to drink legally. Now that milestone has come and gone.
“So how is Josh finding school?” Tim asks.
“Fine,” I say. “He’s making some friends.”