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“You’re a lot nicer than your friends,” she observes. “They seem a bit… shallow.”
“They’re not, really. I think it’s just an act they put on. Pretending like they really don’t care about anything except being popular and pretty.”
“I guess.” She stares around the mostly empty room. “Where am I going to put my stuff? There’s no furniture.”
“For now, you can put most of your clothes in the closet. We can go online and order some dressers that match the bookcases. I’m sure Alex won’t mind.”
“My grandparents gave me a little money. They said my father is broke because he doesn’t have a real job and drinks too much.”
My blood starts to boil. “Um, I don’t think that’s true, Lily. He’s an artist, but he makes money. I was here once when he sold one of his statues. He got a lot of money for it.” Ten thousand dollars, from what I remember, but I’m not going to throw that figure out because it’s not my business.
She looks skeptical. “You really think so? Look at this place. It’s so run down. My grandfather said all this furniture was garbage picked.”
Is it possible to hate someone I’ve never met? Because her grandfather sounds like a total obnoxious jerk.
“Your dad told me your mom loved to buy furniture and decor in local antique stores. I think it’s charming. This house is historic; it was built in 1938. A well-known poet used to live here, and she was the one who planted all the berry bushes and flowers. All these doorknobs are the originals. Do you know how hard it is to find these? They had a cat that lived to be twenty-two years old. He sat on the front porch all the time and people would walk by and talk to him every day. There’s a little headstone for him right behind the shed; it’s got moss grown over it, but you can still see his name.”
I’m breathless from talking, and Lily is blinking at me like I’ve just lost my mind here in her bedroom.
“Jesus, Penny, how do you even know all that?” she asks.
“I—”
“It’s all true,” Alex says from behind me. I turn to see him leaning against the doorframe, eyeing me with curiosity. “Where’d you learn that stuff about the house?”
My pulse races as I realize I don’t know.
Lily and Alex continue to stare at me, waiting for an answer I don’t have.
“I…” My brain kicks into overdrive. “A few years ago in school, we had to read about local historic landmarks. I was fascinated with the cat story, and I recognized this house from the photo online.”
A big pile of stinking lies, but they buy it.
Or maybe Alex is just distracted by the dismantled nursery furniture he’s staring at. His breathing is deeper, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
“I was really careful,” I say quickly. “I thought we could store it in the basement.”
He nods.
“It’s all beautiful, but there weren’t any drawers for Lily to put her clothes in,” I add, hoping to get that look off his face and bring the color back to his complexion. “I think she needs maybe two small dressers. She can order them online, and they can be delivered.”
“Um… sure.” He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and hands Lily a credit card. Wordlessly, she takes it from him. “Get anything you need. Try to keep it around two grand.”
“I can pay you back,” Lily says quietly.
“I’m not letting you pay me back, Lily. I’m sorry about the furniture… I couldn’t…”
He finishes with a deep breath that says a lot more than words ever could.
For long moments, they stare at each other silently. I step between them and plaster a smile on my face. “It’s okay,” I say brightly. “This way, she can pick out what she wants. Maybe a corner desk, too.”
They nod simultaneously, and I realize Lily looks a lot like Alex. They have the same brooding expression, the same rare-but-adorable smile, the same aura of sadness.
“I guess you’re too old for bunnies,” Alex grumbles.
Lily peeks up at her father. “Kinda…”
“You can paint over it.” His voice has gone flat and emotionless. I can see him shutting down, retreating back to his shadows.
I wish Alex would tell Lily how Brianna decorated this room for her with so much love, how she spent hours painting this adorable, detailed mural, and what a special piece of art it is. I wish he would tell her how he talked to her before she was born. I wish he would say something so Lily wouldn’t keep feeling like her parents are strangers who don’t love her.
“It really is a beautiful mural,” I say. “I have an idea. I’ll take pictures of it, and if you want, we can have parts of it printed on canvas. That way, you’ll always have your mom’s artwork.”
