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My voice cracks. “Benjamin—”
“Liv? Is something wrong?”
“I did just come from a funeral,” I grumble. Is it so insane to think I might be grieving?
“For a woman you didn’t know,” he says, sounding just like the Rendezvous version of my father.
I inhale a breath. “That’s what I’m struggling with. She’s still my grandmother, and I want to know her.”
“Livy,” he groans, all of his sweetness gone. “Be realistic. It’s a little late for that now. This is ridiculous, surely you can see that?”
Tears drown my face at his rebuke. In a matter of days, I’d been reduced to reprimand after reprimand. Covering my mouth, I hold in a sob.
But then—could I really reevaluate my entire summer plans all because Amelia Benson died and left me a house?
“Honey—” he halts, as if interrupting himself. “One second.”
I choke back a cry. “Tell me you’re not answering another call. Benjamin—”
“Sweetheart, it’s your dad. I’m sure he’s worried, just let me reassure him.”
“Benjamin, he’s just outside. Please don’t—”
But he’s already switched calls, leaving me alone.
Fire and ice. My cheeks flame while my heart plummets to my toes.
Benjamin hung up on me. For my dad. His name still blinks on my screen, but I look away. I grip the device in my palm. My thumb trembles as it slips to the side, holding the power button and turning off my phone. And in my insanity, I toss it into the trash can. I let out a shaky breath, but throwing my phone away has filled me with adrenaline. Like making this choice and pushing away the outside world is making me stronger.
With my face flaming, I exit the room. At the bottom of the stairs, Dad watches me like a bomb about to blow.
“I’m done,” I whisper as my foot leaves the last step and I pass him into the living room.
“You’re ready now?” he says, his tone hesitant.
My fingers curl into fists at my side as I give one rigid nod.
“Okay then.” He passes me, opening the front door and stepping outside.
With Dad on the other side of the threshold, I pull in a breath. “I won’t argue with you anymore.” I cross my arms. “I’m not going home. I’m staying here, alone. Just for a few days.”
His lip curls before his mouth opens to speak, but I’m not finished.
“I’ll find a way home. Don’t stay and don’t come back for me.” I exhale, but I need to act quick. I can’t give him time to argue. “I’ve made up my mind.” And then, I shut the door, locking it behind me—locking him outside and out of my decision.
A weight lifts from my shoulders. Breaths come easily. I squeal and pace once around Amelia’s little living room. My phone doesn’t sing; it can’t. The door doesn’t open; I have the key. And Dad’s pride won’t allow him to knock after I shut the door in his face.
I am free.
Twelve
I waste no time. I know exactly what to do with my first moment of freedom.
But how does one rip out carpet?
First things first. That’s what Dad would say. The man taught me plenty of good things. No sense in wasting them. So, first, I have to get out of these dress clothes.
My clothing options are sparse. I opt for jeans and my Dr Pepper shirt from the day before. Has it really only been one day since I inherited Amelia’s house?
