"Hashing it Out with Hayes," she says as if she's in on a secret. "Ya know big bro, you really are full of surprises."
I swallow my bite, and wash it down with water, but remain silent.
"You're buying a house," she says.
I nod.
"Show me."
"Really?" I ask.
Her body shifts, and when I turn to look at her, her eyes are wet with tears.
"Ads," I start but stop when her jaw tightens.
"Just show me fuckface."
"My phone's upstairs," I say. "But it's in Granger. Right on the other side of the line, so about twenty or so minutes from here."
She unlocks her own phone and opens the browser before handing it to me.
"Show me," she says through gritted teeth.
What's that saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth? What the fuck does that even mean, anyway? It doesn't matter though, because this is the most my younger sister has spoken to me in almost a month.
"It's not much," I say as I find the listing. "Three bedrooms, only one bathroom."
She takes her phone from my outstretched hand.
"You could afford any home in the county, probably the state, and this is the one you picked?" she asks, lifting a brow.
"It feels like home."
"That's what you said in your podcast."
"You listened?"
"I'd have to hear about it from Kevin, if I didn't," she says.
"Fucking Kevin," I say, and she laughs. She fucking laughs.
And then tears stream down her face. I'm not equipped to handle this. There's no manual for it. No coach.
"Why does it feel like home?" she asks, leaning on the table and propping her head in her hand to stare at me.
I shrug because I don't know. It's the same question I've asked myself for the last two weeks, and I still don't know. The house is small and outdated. It needs a lot of work, but I'm looking forward to making it mine.
She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and opening them again. "Do you want me to tell you?"
Confusion must read all over my face because she shakes her head in annoyance.
"It feels like home because you see them in that house," she says.
"What?"
"Jade would never live in a house like this one." She gestures around. "Or any of the houses in your fucking tax bracket. She'd hate every room in it. But this one?" She holds up her phone, the picture of my house still on the screen. "This one is her."
It's my turn for a deep breath. It makes perfect sense, and I don't know how I didn't realize it before now.
