Page 6 of The Treasure House

Flo had somehow plowed through her mountain of Cheerios. She lifted the bowl and drank the dregs of the milk.

“Don’t do that.”

“If you can destroy my life by moving me to a junk house, I can drink from the bowl.”

“Deal.” I swooped in and scooped up her empty bowl. “I’m glad we’ve agreed on moving.”

“Hey!” She caught up to what had just happened.

“No takebacks.” I smiled at her. “But at least you get to drink out of the bowl for the rest of your life.”

It was like a virus. I’d caught a bad case of treasure house. I kept my phone out on my desk and scrolled listings between calls at work. And then, feeling kind of feverish and itchy, I went online and checked out mortgage options. I wouldn’t need much money… but I would need a job to pay a mortgage and, if I moved, I’d have to find a new one. But surely everywhere had a medical center?

I had a small pot of savings too, squirreled away out of habit in case Tina needed bail money, or help getting set up when she got out of prison. Which wouldn’t be happening anytime soon, since she’d been charged with trafficking across state lines the year before Flo was born, and was now locked up in Hazelton Federal Correctional Institution in West Virginia, where she’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But I’d been automatically paying into the “Tina” account. And it had been gaining interest for ten years. I had enough for a down payment on a treasure house—especially given the price ranges—and I knew Suni and Wayne would loan me the rest. They’d always said they’d be happy to help any of us out, should we need it. The thought of touching the “Tina” money for the down payment filled me with a momentary surge of terror. What would Tina do when she got out? How would she manage? All the old nightmares of childhood reared up at me. Hunger, homelessness, Tina’s descent into despair and her inevitable relapse. Tina needed it. I needed it because I needed her to be okay.

But maybe Flo and I needed it too. And maybe we needed it now.

I escaped the medical center on my lunch break and walked to the park so I could be alone. I didn’t think I could deal with rusted-out cars and mold, but I could do clutter. I was open to leaving Pittsburgh, but I didn’t want to be too remote either. And I one hundred percent needed a good school district for Florence.

I googled the states with the best public schools. I wasn’t sure whether the wild fluttering in my stomach was excitement or fear. It might have been both.

“I don’t want to live anywhere hot,” Flo announced when I got home. Suni was babysitting, and Flo had obviously been filling her in on my house hunting. I had a careful roster of sitters during summer vacation—it was stuck to the fridge and color coded. Flo went to her friend Vanda’s house on Mondays, her friend Candy’s house on Wednesdays and Thursdays, my neighbor Mrs. Selvaratnam watched her on Tuesdays, and Suni looked after her on Fridays, sometimes at their house in Bradford Woods, and sometimes at our apartment.

This was something else I’d lose if I moved. Babysitters.

My mind seesawed back and forth between wild spikes of excitement and cold reality checks.

“What’s this about a treasure house?” Suni asked mildly. “And what exactly is a treasure house?”

“I already told her. She just wants you to tell her,” Flo complained to me. “But we both agreed, you can’t buy a house somewhere too hot.”

“Not after this apartment,” Suni said, still sounding mild even though she was giving me an evaluating look. “It’s like a sauna in here.” She took my bag from me and put it by the door. “Sit down. You look tired.”

When I had lived with the Overbecks, Suni had been loving, if a little distant. But we’d recently lost my foster sister Bethany to an overdose, and now Wayne and Suni’s daughter Alison was going through a frightening divorce from a covert lowlife who’d stalked and terrorized her after she left him. It had shaken Suni. She seemed less robust and more tender—with all of us.

“Did Flo show you any of the houses?” I asked, bracing myself for her response.

“She did.” Suni joined me on the couch. “I can see why they’re in your price range.”

Even with the windows open and the fan huffing, the apartment was a sweatbox. The tired sound of the city winding down in the heat panted through the windows.

“I’m only going if my friends can come stay with us whenever I want,” Flo announced. “And if I can have my own bedroom. And a dog,” she added.

“Can you believe the prices?” I asked Suni, ignoring Flo’s demands.

Suni’s dark eyes gave a wry twinkle. “Yes.” She pressed her lips together. “Have you seen what’s inside them?”

I half groaned, half laughed. “I’m insane, right?”

She shrugged. Then she darted a glance at Flo. “Flo-bug, go have a cold shower and get your pajamas on while your mom and I talk.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes,” we both said in unison.

“Fine, but just so you know, I can hear you from the shower.”

We heard the bathroom door slap closed.