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The heat from Oliver’s arm next to mine emboldens me. “He’s here for the same reason everyone else is, to help unload all the books.”
My grandma clucks her tongue. “We heard about the bus breaking down. We’re sorry, dear.”
I nod. “Me, too. It’s been a really good ten years. I’m sad to see it go.”
“Mr. Tate,” Grandma hones in on him. “I’m actually glad we ran into you here. It will save us some work…”
She pauses as my grandpa grumbles something under his breath. After a quick glance in his direction, she goes on. “We’re asking you to cease and desist any interactions with our granddaughter for the foreseeable future.”
What? My mind is tripping over “cease and desist.” Is this a joke?
“And why is that?” Oliver has crossed his arms over his chest. It’s a good look for him, as it accentuates his biceps and forearm muscles. His face is still calm and breezy. No wonder he can negotiate land deals so handily. Nothing seems to faze this man.
Just then, Oliver’s brothers come out of the bus, carrying either end of one of my bookshelves. It’s the most dinged up one, the one that held my classics, some fairy tale collections, and our tiny reference section. I don’t even know where those books are now…in some pile in some random room in the county building, no doubt. My stomach travels up and up, until my head is swimming with a shot of grief.
I love my books—er, the county library’s books. But those old bookshelves? Why am I sad to lose them? Oliver must sense my distress because he gently places an arm around me.
My grandparents seem thrown off by the appearance of not one, but two more Tate brothers. Before Grandma can answer, Grandpa chimes in. “Yes. A cease and desist. We wanted to give you a chance to hear us out before we sent an official letter. Maybe we can avoid the unpleasantness of that and just have a verbal agreement.”
Oliver moves to respond, but I stop him. “No, that’s not okay,” I say to my grandparents. I laugh at the absurdity of this. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m not your dependent anymore. I haven’t been for fifteen years. Even still, you could have voiced your concerns to me privately.”
I can feel Oliver’s gaze on me and everything in him tenses. I know he’s holding back. As they pass, Alec and Sebastian stare pointedly at Oliver, an unspoken code being sent and received.
“We’ve never approved of your association with the Tates, but then when we lost the bid to build the turbines—” Grandma shoots out a breath. “Sophie, you know our business hasn’t yet recovered. I don’t understand how you can do this to us. You’re helping them with the very thing that has harmed our family?”
“You know we own the house, Sophie.” Grandpa’s voice is menacing. He looks from side to side at the various Longdalers milling about. They’re bringing objects out of the bus, certainly, but their real goal is to hear what’s going on.
I can’t go there in my mind. That my grandpa could possibly threaten me by bringing up the house is…well, I didn’t think he was capable of that.
By now, Oliver’s brothers have returned from the county offices, and they flank Oliver and I on either side. My grandparents’ gazes bounce back and forth among all four of us.
I see something in my grandparents’ faces that I don’t know if I’ve ever seen before, or taken the time to notice. There’s an element of fear there. It’s as plain as day to me now. The Tates are the most insidious of enemies in their minds, so of course they don’t want me to be around them.
We’re interrupted by some of the community members, asking what more needs to be done. “I think there’s a couple of people left in there,” they tell me. “Violet’s been giving us jobs.”
“Oh.” I think hard. “If everything’s out of there, you can go home.” I lean over to give them hugs. “Thank you so much.”
“We got you,” Tahlia Frandsen says. She owns the corner deli. I’ve probably spent half my paychecks in that place over the years.
Oliver is also thanking them, with big pats on the backs and laughter.
Once they get in their cars to drive away, I feel more level-headed, less venomous.
I turn back to my grandparents, willing myself to stay calm, objective. “What do you hope to gain from asking me to avoid all contact with the Tates?” My voice is softer now. I want to understand. And I don’t want to bring up the house because maybe there’s nothing to my grandpa’s out-of-place comment.
“It’s the principle of it,” Grandma says with a hiss. “After all we’ve done for you.”
The familiar pang of guilt resurfaces. But it wasn’t my fault my mom died, and nothing they’ve done for me means I’m obligated to live my life for them.
“I’m very grateful to all you’ve done,” I say, willing my voice to stay clear and strong. “And I can live my life as I choose.”
Don’t they understand that both of those things can be true at the same time?
“Liquidating the home might be the best option for us at this point, financially speaking, Sophie,” Grandpa says. The lines on his face pucker together at his scowl.
“Sell the house?” My mouth is dry. Oliver tenses next to me, leaning forward like he feels ready to burst.
“We might not.” Grandma lifts a shoulder and straightens her glasses. “Especially if we felt you were honoring your mother’s memory by honoring our one request.”
