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“Makes sense. How was the rest of your day? What else is going on? Make any new discoveries since your brother and sister left?”
“Actually, I found a stack of ones in the old butter dish in the china cabinet.”
“Really? I thought you couldn’t find the key for it.”
“I couldn’t. I used a bobby pin to get it open.”
“Ah yes, the old bobby pin trick! I bet Bee has a million of those hanging around. She was forever wearing her hair up.”
“Oh yeah, there was an entire basket full of them in the bathroom medicine cabinet.”
“It blew my mind that she could put those in without even looking at her reflection, and her hair was always perfect.” I pull three sheets of aluminum foil free, then drop a dollop of butter on each and a sprinkle of salt before I add a cob of corn and roll them up.
“She wasn’t big on pampering, but she hated when her hair didn’t look good.”
Van and I talk about Bee while we prepare dinner. Once the corn and vegetables are on the barbecue, we pull out the will and estate documents. There’s an older version where the cottage was supposed to go to Van’s mother, but that obviously was updated after she died.
Three hours and a mountain of scoured files later, we’re still in the dark. Van is frustrated and discouraged, so we call it a night, and I take him to bed. I might not be able to solve the problem for him, but at least I can provide a distraction.
I get the answers Van is looking for the following night, when I come home from work to find a rented black SUV parked in front of my trailer with windows tinted so dark I can see nothing but my reflection in them. For a moment I wonder if my dad and my uncle have gotten themselves into financial trouble without my knowing. These McMansion renos can be expensive, and a few years back my uncle took out some loans that weren’t from the bank. It was right around the time they almost went bankrupt. And it didn’t help that my uncle took some of the money to the slots to see if he could make a little extra on the side. Luckily we survived that mess, and quietly too. No one knows about it, and I’d like to keep it that way.
I look around, for what I’m not sure. Backup, maybe?
The driver’s side door opens, and a head appears, followed by a body. It takes me a moment to recognize Bradley, Van’s brother. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and a full suit. It happens to be over eighty degrees today, so it’s a lot of heavy fabric.
“Hey, Bradley. Is Van not home? Is he okay? Did something happen?” Panic hits, fast and hard, making it feel like I’m choking. My heart clenches, and I realize that I’m genuinely afraid. If something has happened to Van, I’m not sure I’ll be okay, because the feelings I’ve been trying to ignore have only grown stronger the more time I spend with him. I glance toward the trees, but they’ve filled in with the summer heat, so I can’t see much except for the roof of Bee’s cottage.
“He’s fine and not home. I’m actually here for you.” He smiles, but it’s stiff. “Do you have a minute to talk? I need your help with something.”
“Oh, like a surprise?” I have no idea when Van’s birthday is. I hope I haven’t missed it.
He smiles again, wider this time. “Come, let’s have a chat, Dillion.” He moves toward the trailer, which I don’t bother locking since the only thing of value in there is usually a six-pack of beer and occasionally my laptop, but mostly where I go, it goes.
He opens the door for me and follows me inside. Bradley seems like a pampered, spoiled younger brother, based on my impression from last weekend. I don’t dislike him, but he’s hard to get a read on. I can’t tell if he was joking about being the better-looking brother, or if he actually believes it.
I can see the similarities between him and Van. They’re definitely brothers. But where Van has a square jaw and slightly more rugged features, his brother is . . . softer, maybe more refined. He wears the suit like he belongs in it. Whereas Van looks best in a T-shirt and ripped jeans.
“Can I get you something to drink? I only have beer or water, but we have other stuff in the house.” I thumb over my shoulder.
“I’m fine, thank you.” He looks around the trailer, and I can practically feel the judgment oozing out of him. “So, this is where you live, Dillion?”
“For now, yup.”
“Dillion’s an interesting name.”
“It’s androgynous.” Might as well state the obvious.
