“Normally, when a house is prepped for resale, it’s all about neutral finishes. Things that speak to the masses. That wallpaper, toilet, and tile you chose for the bathroom? That’s for a specific buyer, so I’m a concerned.”
I drive off the fairgrounds. “Maybe thereisa specific buyer. Maybe this house is meant for someone.”
“It’s a house in a small town. It’s best to make it appeal to a wide variety of homebuyers. People probably looking for a vacation house. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, Paul and Danny love it. So, that’s something.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “That is something. But—”
“But what?”
“Maybe you’re making upgrades for a house in the middle of nowhere that don’t make sense.”
Neither of us says anything for a bit.
“The black tin roof and deck are great,” my mom finally states.
“I know.”
“But any more excess has to stop,” she cautions. “It’s about making the house sellable, okay?”
When I pull into the driveway and slam the car to a stop, I note, “I’m having such a stupidly beautiful time here. I’ve met so many people who knew you and Dad. It’s kind of awesome.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Ray, Amelia, and Nicole remember you too.”
It takes a long time for her to say something. “Yes, I remember them too. They were great friends.”
And it takes me an equally long time to reply. “It’s nice, being around them. And Paul. People who knew Dad.”
While she doesn’t say anything, I can hear that she’s trying to hide her emotion. I’m pushing her buttons, and I know it. I’m bringing up things she doesn’t want to talk about. I’m bringing up the past.
“Grandma used to do brunches at this house, and now, I’m hosting brunches again, and all these people are coming around each week. I told you that I’m cooking, and I wasn’t kidding. I’m really doing something. And the house is going to be perfect.”
“Please, Callie.” She’s struggling to stay calm. “Brunches are fun, I know, but that’s not why you’re there. Please understand that the house doesn’t have to be perfect. It has to be cleaned up and sellable. Make choices that appeal to any buyer, especially in the kitchen. Neutral is always the way to go. We’re going to sell this to anyone who wants a house in a small town, right? This is what I do for a living, so I know what I’m talking about. There’s no reason to sink tons of money into a place in a nothing town.”
The wrath that surges through me is unlike anything I’ve felt before, and I explode. Never have I unloaded at anyone with the kind of emotion as I do now, but I cannot stop myself. “Maybe Iwantto get attached. Maybe I already am. I know that it’s too hard for you to come back here, and it was hard for me, too, but I did it anyway. I did it despite how much it hurt because it was important. I came back here and faced how painful and intolerable it was to lose Dad. How tragically unfair it was for him to die with me literally by his side and how he must have known it was happening. That his kid was watching. And now, you’re dismissing this house and town as though they were nothing to us. This house is not just a livable structure. It’s my past. And maybe I fell in love with the past in more ways than one. And maybe I’ve found my future.” The only reason I pause is because I need air. “And Wake isnota nothing town,” I practically sob.
It takes her a while to respond. “You’re right. You’re right. It’snota nothing town. Not at all. I didn’t mean that. I’m the one who is—”
Before I can let her say anything else that might destroy me further, I hang up.
When I am in bed, I am the old me. Weak, broken, self-loathing.
Yet when Danny moves under the sheets, he still embraces me but only because he doesn’t know. But maybe he does? Maybe he can tell how off I am by the fact that he knew I took a phone call from my mother, and now, I’m in bed early. His lips graze over mine, and he trickles his fingertips up and down my arm. Then, he wipes my cheek, and I realize that tears are falling.
“Tell me two truths and one lie,” he demands.
So, I tell him. “I was astounded by you today. Every part of me hurts, except for the parts connected to you. Third? I’m going to risk death by bear and feed the birds.” I know he’s smiling a bit as I move my body closer into his, and I rest my head on his chest. “Now, you. Two truths and a lie.”
Kisses touch the top of my head, and he answers, “First, figs are my favorite food ever. God’s gift to the culinary world.”
“You hate figs.”
“Yes, I do.”
Danny lifts up. “Second, I believe in you. And third? I’m going to fall so deeply in love with you that I won’t know where I stop and where you begin, and I’ll never come back from that. And I won’t want to.”
His words are likely the only reason that I am able to fall asleep without further tears.
