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“In other words, you have your work cut out for you,” Elias guessed.
“Yeah.” Drew sighed. “We’ve got maybe another week of the audit, which means the hard part is about to start.” Drew looked over at him. “We have to make recommendations about what should be cut from the budget. Do you continue to fund the in-house lab, the nursery for employees’ kids, the nutrition program? Not all of them will survive.” Drew tipped his bottle back. “I don’t even want to think about it right now.”
“Well, I have something you probably want to think about even less,” Elias said.
Drew closed his eyes. “Don’t start.”
“You can’t put this off any longer, Drew. You’re here in Texas for the first time in a year. And you’re less than two hours away from Hye.”
He looked over at his uncle. “It’s not as if I’m on vacation, E. I’m working.”
“Are you saying you can’t afford to take a single weekend off to go box up your mom’s house? You don’t even have to put the stuff in boxes. The Realtor left color-coded stickers. Green for keep, yellow for donate, red for trash. She’ll take care of everything, but she needs some guidance.”
Drew released a deep groan as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. He cradled his head, roughly massaging his scalp. He flinched as Elias’s hand gripped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“I know this isn’t easy, Drew. Nothing about this process has been easy. But it has to be done.”
“Why?” he asked, looking back at his uncle. “I own her house. Why can’t I just leave it as it is?”
“Because you know damn well that isn’t what Doreen wanted. She left instructions—”
“For it to be used as a transitional home for domestic violence victims. I know,” Drew said.
Because she had been one.
Drew knew hardly anything about his dad, and his mother never talked about him, but Elias had remembered enough to give Drew some insight into just how awful that motherfucker had been. Elias had been eight years old when Drew was born, and was being raised by his older sister after their parents had been killed in a house fire.
Over the years, his uncle had shared bits and pieces of the terror Drew’s mother had escaped the night she’d packed up her little brother and her newborn baby and left her abusive boyfriend. She’d found her way to a shelter for domestic violence survivors—the Clubhouse, as his mom had nicknamed it for Elias’s sake.
After eight months, Drew’s mom was offered a home in a safe neighborhood that cost next to nothing in rent. It allowed her to afford childcare while working and going to school. That transitional home, as Drew later learned it was called, had been the key to his mother’s being able to break free and build a new life for him and Elias.
As of today, Drew had funded more than a thousand transitional homes around the country. He’d hired a Realtor whose sole purpose was to coordinate the purchase and renovation of foreclosed homes that could be donated to area shelters as transitional housing.
But Drew also knew that Elias was right. He could buy a million homes around the country, and his mother would still be upset at the thought of her house sitting unused when it could provide shelter for a family escaping the same kind of abuse her own family had faced all those years ago.
Drew dragged his palms down his face.
“Let me talk things over with my team,” he said to his uncle. “If I’m going to be absent for a few days, the lull between audit mode and recommendation mode is probably the best time for that to happen.” He looked back at Elias again. “I can’t believe I wasted my good beer on you.”
“See, I would have thought you’d be more upset about that pretty doctor leaving early for the night than about the beer.”
Drew shut his eyes. “Don’t remind me. I just might make you sleep in the bathtub.”
Elias threw his head back and laughed. Drew had no choice but to join in.
21
London nervously shifted from one foot to the other as she waited to order burrito bowls for Koko and Nina. Miles had inhaled the corn dog she’d bought him from one of the other food court restaurants while standing in line next to her. He’d eaten it from the side, as one ate an ear of corn, instead of from the top like a person from planet Earth.
As they stood here, London tried to think of something to say to her little brother, but it would appear she lost the ability to communicate with children if they weren’t in hospital gowns. Not that it mattered. Miles talked enough for the both of them.
Unlike his sisters, who’d rattled off the litany of items they wanted in their bowls and then headed to the accessories store, Miles hadn’t left London’s side from the moment they arrived at the shopping center. He’d asked her no less than two dozen questions—everything from her favorite color to what kind of mileage she got with her Mini Cooper. The kid really needed to hang out with someone other than his dad.
Maybe if his big sister were around more…
Thing is, she wasn’t supposed to be with Miles today either. London had meant for this to be her outing with Nina so they could discuss the nude selfies, but as she backed out of the driveway at April and Kenneth’s, a minivan pulled up alongside her, and Koko and Miles jumped out. They begged to come along. There would be no nude selfie talk today.
“So, how is baseball going?” London asked, figuring that was at least one thing she knew Miles enjoyed.
