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He sighed. “You can be her foster parent at eighteen. There are several requirements, though. You have to have a stable source of income and a place of your own, for example. You can’t take Bella on campus with you.”
“We can stay here. This is our home.”
“Your parents still owe quite a bit on this house, Callum. It would take a chunk of that money to pay it off.”
“Then do that. Pay it off and put the house in my name so nobody else can take it or sell it. Put some money aside for Bella and the rest in a savings account. I’ll... I’ll take some time off from school. I’ll get a job. I’ll do whatever it takes. They just have to give me time. They can give me time, right?”
He gave me a sympathetic look. “There is a grace period. This won’t just be on you. This falls on both of you.”
I sat up and turned to my sister. Cupping her face, I kissed her forehead.
“Listen to me, Bella. If I do this, you have to work with me. You have to keep up your grades and listen to what I tell you. I want us to stay together, and I know Mama and Daddy would want that too. We can make this work, but you must do your part, you understand?”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I understand.”
She was only thirteen at the time. It was a lot asking her to help me keep us together, but we had no other option if someone in the family didn’t take her. Mr. Charles talked to us a bit more about what we could expect with the process of fostering Bella. When he left, I sent her to her room so I could get everyone out of our house. It was unusually quiet. I searched until I found my two aunts, my uncle, and a few of my mother’s cousins in our den. I was about to make myself known when my aunt Sheila spoke.
“James and I have three kids. If we take them, we should get that money. What are any of you gonna do but run through it anyway?”
“Ha! Like you wouldn’t?” That was my aunt Glenda. “Your husband has a good job. You don’t need the money, Sheila. You’re just greedy. I, on the other hand, am raising two kids by myself. I could use that.”
“You live in a two-bedroom apartment, Glenda. Where the hell are they gonna sleep?”
“We could move in here. Callum’s gonna be away at school. He isn’t gonna be able to keep up with the mortgage. What does an eighteen-year-old need with that type of money? He’s gonna blow it. I say we talk him into signing the checks over. We give him a cut and split the rest.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My parents were barely dead two weeks, and they were already fighting and plotting on money that wasn’t even theirs. I’d entered the room, and before my better judgment could kick in, I cursed out everybody and let them know that none of them would see a dime of that money. They had to listen to my thoughts on how disgusting they were as human beings, let alone a supposed “loving” family. Before I put them out, I told them that Bella and I were better off without them. I guess they took that to heart. In seventeen years, nobody made a move to apologize or make amends.
That was fine by me.
I wasn’t wrong. Cutting them off was hard. There were times I needed them, and my pride wouldn’t let me go back on my word. I sucked it up and did what I had to do to push through. I refused to touch the money I had set aside for Bella or our rainy-day funds. God forbid anything went wrong with the house and I couldn’t fix it. Like I said, it was hard, but we came out of it better than we were—no thanks to my family.
Maybe I would go to the funeral; maybe I wouldn’t.
I sighed. “At least we’re both grown now.”
“And I can fight,” Bella tossed in.
I shook my head. “Nobody is fighting anybody. If we go, we’ll go to pay our respects, then leave.”
She kissed her teeth. “Oh, all right. I guess I can do that.”
“I’ll let you know what I decide by Friday.”
“Okay. Are you gonna be fine? I know how you get when you think about back then.”
“I promise I’m good. Besides, I have Precious. How can I be sad around a ball of sunshine?”
“I guess you can’t. Please call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“You won’t, but okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We disconnected the call, and I stood from the couch. Walking down the hall, I entered my bedroom.
“Okay, Precious. How about—”
