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I tried to rationalize what harm one text would do.
But then again, what would I say? After yesterday, what was lefttosay?
To distract myself, I went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Mom had left a stapled stack of paperwork on the counter, one that I nudged aside so that it wasn’t so close to the sink. However, the ink slowly registered, and I scanned the lines.
Pre-Sale Inspection for 305 Walnut Street Brentwood, CT—drywall issues in basement, rotten porch steps (back of house).
It went on further with realtor mumbo-jumbo that didn’t quite make sense, but then again, the fact that it wasouraddress on this made even less sense. Pre-sale inspection?
I picked up the stapled stack and flipped through it. There were a few printouts of comp houses in the area, selling prices, and then—boom. There was an exterior picture of our house staring back at me, with Mom’s handwriting scrawled along the bottom.Possible listing prices. Updates that will improve cost of home: repair steps, fix drywall, update outdated bath fixtures, new paint. Pre-sale inspection—check. Open house 10/08.
The shallow breaths I pulled in did nothing to calm my racing thoughts, ones that made me dizzier and dizzier with each passing second. This wasn’t happening. There was no way. No way. Mom wouldn’t sell our house. Not without talking to me, not without talking to Dad. No way.
But then…why would she schedule an open house for it?
All the repairs, making sure the house was clean—this was why. A reason I was afraid of, but I never believed it would actually happen.
The front door opened, but I didn’t fully register it until I heard Mom’s shocked voice. “Ava? What are you doing home? I thought you were going to your dad’s this weekend.”
I whirled around with the stack of papers, chest rising and falling fast. “What’s this?”
It was clear Mom had been caught off-guard. With it being so late, she wouldn’t be coming from work. No doubt she’d gone out with her friends…again. “Where did you find that?” she asked me.
“You left it out.” My voice sounded wavy, like I was speaking through water. “Tell me you’re not selling our house.”
Mom looked away from me then, pinching her lips together. “Sweetheart.”
“Tell me you’re not selling our house,” I repeated, firmer in the pronunciation, but my voice seemed to shake. “We’ve—we’ve lived here my entire life. We can’t justmove.”
“I found a great house over in Jefferson—it’s practically adreamhouse, Ava. It’s a little smaller, but my God, you have to see it.” She put as much excitement into her voice as possible, but even she had to be able to tell that she sounded more desperate than anything. “This is too much house for us, sweetie.”
I drew in a sudden breath, swaying as if her bomb-like words jostled the earth too. “You—you didn’t even tell me. You didn’t eventalkto me.”
There was no missing the dissatisfaction that cracked through her expression. That was the perfect word.Dissatisfaction.Her forehead wasn’t wrinkled with sadness and her mouth wasn’t twisted with anger. She looked dissatisfied with my response, like someone had told her that the investment she made ended up losing money. “Ava, like I said, it’s the perfect opportunity. The perfect house for us. We can’t let this opportunity pass us by.”
She wasn’t listening to me, but ever since Dad moved out, that had been the new normal. It was like they were acting on autopilot.Get through the day.But this? This wasnotautopilot. I’d already had to swallow their marriage breaking up—now they were taking the house too?
I was shaking all over, as if an earthquake was happening only within my body, the epicenter just behind my ribcage.This is not happening, I told myself, trying to calm down the storm swallowing me whole.This is not happening.
“Rachel lives across the street,” I said. I honestly knew that it wouldn’t have been the reason she’d change her mind. She wouldn’t go “hmm, you’re right, Ava, we need to keep you within fifty feet of your bestie” but I hoped it’d at least make her stop and talk to me about it. Have a discussion.
But it didn’t. “You can see Rachel every day at school, Ava. And she has a car. She can pick you up and you can still hang out.”
No,Reedand Rachel had a car. A joint car. And since Reed was Mr. Popular with places to go and girls to see, he called dibs all the time. “Is this about money? About the bills? I’ve—I’ve been taking on more website design projects, but I could get an actual part-time job. I could save up some money and pay rent. I’m sure there are places hiring high schoolers—”
“Ava.” Mom looked up at me finally, turning those almond eyes to me. Her complexion looked especially washed out in this light, her blonde doing her no favors. It cast a shadow on the perfect image she was desperate to portray. “I’m sorry that this is so sudden. I’m sorry this is upsetting you. This is the way it needs to be.”
Flat. No room for debate or negotiation. No room for discussion at all.
It reminded me of the day Dad decided he was moving out. Realistically, he’d probably made the decision weeks earlier, since he already had a new apartment downtown lined up. But they didn’t tell me what was happening until I came home from Rachel’s to find a suitcase in the hallway with a duffle bag on top of it. It was funny, even though Dad had lived here for the past nineteen years, he could fit his entire life into two bags.
“We’ve decided on a separation,” they’d said. “I’m sorry if this is hard for you, but we’ve put a lot of thought into it, and this is the way things need to be.”
It seemed like Mom and Dad had a catchphrase.
“Nothing’s even packed.” The kitchen was filled to the brim with knickknacks. Mom’s giant China cabinet was still shoved into one corner, more of a dust collector than anything else. The giant oak table was a monster and a half and took up most of the dining room, and Dad had always joked that they’d never move because trying to take the table with them would be a nightmare.
“I have movers coming soon to help with the packing. We’ll need to downsize, so you need to go through and make a list of things you want to keep, Ava. Anything else will get donated.”
