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The Last House on the Street(25)

Author:Diane Chamberlain

“I want to work for SCOPE, Mama,” I said.

She looked down at me. “The answer is no,” she said. “Discussion over.”

I watched her leave the room, her spine straight with determination, but I was equally as determined. I hadn’t mentioned the permission form. I crossed my room to my desk, picked up a pen from my blotter, and for the first time in my life, I forged my father’s signature.

Chapter 10

KAYLA

2010

I’ve never felt so alone.

I’m in the great room of the new Shadow Ridge house, by myself. Daddy’s waiting for Rainie’s sitter to show up at his house so he can come over to help me deal with the movers and I can’t wait for him to get here. Three trucks are in front of the house. The moving van from the storage facility is in the driveway, while out on the street, there’s the truck with the new furniture for Rainie’s room and the guest room, and behind that one is the truck with the furniture for our two offices, one of which we no longer need. I hadn’t thought of that—canceling the new furniture for Jackson’s office. Now his office will only remind me of the fact that he is missing. And yet, I let them bring in the desk he selected, along with the filing cabinet and bookcase, because I feel too numb to tell them to take them back to the store. I’m exhausted and we are only half an hour into this move.

Daddy shows up at ten thirty, just as I’m trying to explain to the movers how I want the bedroom furniture arranged. He senses my tension and stands back quietly to let me work it out with the two men doing the heavy lifting. Once the bedroom is finished and the men leave the room, Daddy gives me a hug.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Hey, ma’am!” someone calls from downstairs. I smile gamely at my father. “I’m okay,” I say, “but I’ll be very glad when this day is over.”

The move-in passes by me in a blur. By two o’clock, all the furniture is in place, nearly a dozen burly men have come and gone, and I’m glad I paid extra to have most of the boxes unpacked, even if I’m certain nothing in the kitchen is where I’ll ultimately want it to be. The only rooms that are still full of boxes are the two offices, and I have a feeling Jackson’s office will stay boxed up for a good long time.

“It’s a beautiful house, honey,” Daddy says. He sits down on the new sectional and looks around him, a small smile on his face. “I like this wall color you picked out. Very soothing.”

I lower myself to the other end of the sectional. It’s soft but not too soft, and I settle into it. Finally, something that’s just right. All the furniture I selected is designed for comfort, with rounded corners and nubby fabric, a counter to the sleek lines of the house.

My father touches the quilt I’ve tossed over the back of the sectional. “I recognize this,” he says.

“I thought you might.” I smile. My mother had made the beautiful quilt for me when I went away to college. “I designed the room around it,” I tell him, choking up a little. “See how the blues and greens are picked up in the sectional and the chairs and the area rugs?”

Daddy takes this in. His smile is sad now, but he nods. “I do see it.” He looks directly at me. “I love that you did that, honey.”

I have a sudden brainstorm. “I have too much space for one woman and one little girl, now, Daddy. I think you should forget about the condo and move in with us.” I’m completely serious, but also selfish. I want another adult with me in this huge house that might look sparkly fresh and new but feels tainted. A terrible accident happened here, and now that red-haired woman knows that this is where I live. It feels like too much.

Daddy shakes his head. “Thanks, but I think you and Rainie need a fresh start here, without me hanging around. And besides, I’m looking forward to my new little abode.”

For a moment, we’re both quiet and the house fills with the distant sound of hammers and saws as work on the newer Shadow Ridge houses continues. “You’ll be living with that noise for a few more weeks, I’d guess,” Daddy says. “But then, peace. I think this will ultimately be a lovely, peaceful neighborhood. I like how they left so much space between the houses. Rare these days. And the trees … while you know I think you have too many … they’ll buffer any noise. The construction racket would be worse without them.” I hear his encouragement. He wants me to feel okay.

I nod. I frankly like the idea that there are people nearby right now, even if they’re noisy construction guys.

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