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“Luna, how are you? This is Amy—”
Her heart jumped. She hit the disconnect button, fumbling with the phone before returning it to its charging dock.
“Is everything okay?” Aanya asked, her face filled with concern.
No. No, it wasn’t. Her heart raced with anxiety.
“That was my mom.” And the last person she’d ever want to talk to.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam’s afternoon activityhad been entirely accidental. He’d been inside the Schnell Ridge Apartments onsite storage garage searching for… Well, he couldn’t quite remember what he’d been looking for. Regardless, he discovered something previously forgotten tucked in a corner.
“What are you doing back there?” Zabe asked.
“Stay out there. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said.
There was a time, in the early days of Schnell Ridge Apartments, when it was considered a promising and glittering apartment building. (Okay, it was never considered either of those, but it was more than the rundown place it was today.) This was when his parents managed the place together, and, because it was their first investment property, there was a bit more effort put in for the upkeep. Everything had held such promise.
Back then, it was he who used to follow his father around as he made repairs and showed him how to do things. Sometimes Nate would tag along too, but it was mostly Sam and his father. He had considered his dad a very important man who could fix anything and owned a mansion-size collection of impressive apartments.
Like the apartment building itself, the Sunderland family was rundown and less sparkling these days. His father’s interest, since he’d moved to San Diego, was non-existent except for making sure the properties continued to bring in income. In fact, if the conversation didn’t pertain to apartment business, there didn’t seem to be much for father and son to talk about.
“You know we have these old planters just lying around,” Sam had mentioned in their most recent phone call.
“Are you just going to toss them?” his father asked. “Maybe try posting them on Craigslist and see if anyone would buy them. People will buy all kinds of things.”
“No, I-I was thinking maybe I can…maybe plant something in them.”
“You garden?”
“No. I don’t know. If, uh, there was a little money for some—”
“You don’t know what you’re doing, so you’d just kill them and…” The sentence died as though his father couldn’t bring himself to finish it. He quickly added, “You know what. Maybe just do some research on the whole Craigslist idea so we don’t waste money.”
Sam didn’t answer and an awkward silence sat between them.
“Am I wrong?” his father asked.
“No.” He dropped the topic and the call soon ended. He didn’t think his dad was bad, but he had checked out and didn’t want to invest anymore into Schnell Ridge, neither financially nor emotionally. Not that Sam blamed him.
Coming across the old patio table and chairs set in the storage garage, the same one his mom had picked out years ago, he realized that the apartment building still had a few surprises to offer. Using them when the weather was good didn’t require much effort nor would his dad take any issue since it wouldn’t cost any money. In fact, it would be a nice thing to do for the residents, especially for someone like Nicholas, who would appreciate having a place to sit while letting his Chihuahua roam the grassy spot. So, really, he was doing it for Nicholas more than he was doing it for anyone else. There was no point in having a nice patio set for it to simply go unused in the storage garage.
“Here, Zabe, why don’t you make yourself useful and carry these cushions for me.”
“Ew, they’re really dirty.” She took the cushion corners between pinched fingers holding them away from her body. “Are you throwing these away?”
“They’re still good. I just need to spray everything down.”
“With disinfectant? Like at a hospital? My dad taught me about biological hazards and this thing is probably covered in them.”
“What? No. I’ll spray it with the hose. It’s just a little bit of dust.”
Next, he handed her the standing umbrella, and carried out the four metal chairs and a matching metal and glass table. The jet mode on the hose washed away most of the grime. Even with the faded fabric, it looked good. While he was outside doing the work, he might as well spray down the patio. It would take him less than ten minutes and it wasn’t a big deal, plus it was fun to tease Zabe with the hose water.
“Wow! I wouldn’t say this is as good as having a pool, but I can sit out here and read instead of being stuck inside,” she said as they were tying on the cushions to the seats.
“Uh-huh,” he replied.
