Brody gave her a look. "You mean he's doing your job."
Waverly made a sound of annoyance. "What is it with you two? " She gave me an irritated look before continuing. "First I've got to hear it from her. And now from you, too?"
When Brody's glanced in my direction, I looked heavenward in shared commiseration.
Waverly said, "I saw that!"
I tried not to smile. "Saw what?"
"That eye-roll." She looked back to Brody. "You saw it, right?"
Without bothering to reply, he said, "We done?"
"We can't be done," she said. "We haven't even started."
I asked, "Started what?"
She looked to me and said, "I wasn't talking to you."
"Good," I said, "because I wasn't listening."
"You were, too!"
Now, I did smile. "Sorry, what'd you say?"
"I said…" But then, her eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. I see what you did there." She looked back to Brody. "You see how she's ganging up on me?"
I almost laughed. "I can't be ganging up anyone. I'm only one person."
"Yeah, and I'm Little Miss Lollypop," she said. "What of it?"
Little Miss Lollypop? I couldn’t help it. I snickered. And when I looked to Brody, he looked dangerously close to snickering, too.
But Waverly looked ready to pop. "Stop laughing!"
When I tried – and failed – to wipe the smile from my face, Waverly said, "You know what? Forget it. You're both fucking nuts. It's always 'the house this' and 'the house that.' Well you know what?" Her voice rose. "I fucking hate that house!"
And with that, she turned and stalked toward her bedroom. When the door slammed behind her, I swear, it shook the whole place.
This left me and Brody alone in the kitchen. With an awkward smile, I said, "So, honey, how was your day?"
As the question echoed out between us, I almost winced. Honey? I hadn't meant to say that. I forced a laugh. "Never mind. Bad joke." As I said it, I turned away, intending to slink back into my bedroom before I made an even bigger fool of myself.
From behind me, Brody said, "Wait."
I stopped and turned to face him. "For what?"
With no trace of humor, he said, "I've got a question."
"About what?"
"The house across the street," he said. "What happened with it?"
I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. "What do you mean?"
He gave me a serious look. "I mean, why don't you own it?"
Chapter 38
Arden
I stared up at him. "Is that a serious question?"
Brody frowned. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
No. He didn't. In fact, he looked more serious than he had in a while. Still, I didn't get it. "Well, you must be joking," I said, "because you know the reason I don't own it."
"Which is…?"
"Because you own it."
"But I didn't always."
As if I needed the reminder. "Yeah, because you bought it from my cousin." I sighed. "And me. Sort of."
"You?" His eyebrows furrowed. "But you never owned it."
"Well, not officially," I said.
"What does that mean?"
It was such a long, convoluted story, I hardly knew where to begin. "Well, you already know that my grandparents owned the place, right?"
"Right."
"Well, my grandma – she died about six years ago, right after I graduated from high school." At the memory, my heart clenched like it always did. Still, I went on. "And then, three years after that, my grandpa passed away." As the memories swirled, my voice grew quiet. "It was really sudden, too."
Brody took a single step closer, and then stopped. His gaze met mine as he said, "I'm sorry."
He actually looked it, too. I tried to smile. "Yeah, well, he was almost eighty, so I guess I should've expected it, huh? But you know how it is with grandparents."
He shook his head. "No. I don't."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I never knew my mine."
I could hardly imagine. "Not on either side?"
"No."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Ask me later," he said. "We're talking about the house."
Right. The house. "Well…the point is," I continued, "my grandpa wanted the house to stay in the family like it always had, so he willed it to my mom." I paused for emphasis. "And to my cousin Jason."
"Why Jason?"
"Because my grandparents had two kids – my mom and her brother. But my mom's brother – my Uncle Chet – he died like five years ago."
"And?"
"And Jason – being Chet's only kid – ended up with Chet's half."
"What about you?" Brody said. "What'd you end up with?"
"Nothing." I hesitated. "Actually, that's not quite true. After my grandma passed away, my grandpa gave me all of her baking supplies, even her mixer, which was a really big deal. The thing cost a fortune." Realizing who I was talking to, I added, "Well, in relative terms, anyway. It wouldn't have seemed like that much money to you, for example."
I shook my head. "But forget the mixer. The cost wasn’t important. It was just that she loved it so much, so I loved it, too." I smiled at the memory. "And then, there were the cookie sheets, and the cookie cutters, and her favorite mixing bowls. They're all in storage now, but when I get settled someplace, I'm going to put them in my own kitchen, and carry on the traditions, you know?"
Was I rambling?
I felt like I was rambling.
And now, in the quiet kitchen, there was something in Brody's gaze that was making me feel nearly naked – and not in a sexual way. In a low voice, he said, "Go on."
"Anyway, back to the house. My mom didn't love it the way I did. And neither did Jason, which is probably part of the reason he sold it."
To you.
But I didn't say that last part, because the subject of Brody's ownership had been beaten to death already.
No need to give it a few more whacks, right?
Brody studied my face. "But a minute ago, you said that you owned part of it."
"Not just part of it," I said. "Half. It's sort of complicated."
"Hey, I've got all night."
Oddly enough, I believed him. During the past couple of weeks, there'd been plenty of nights we'd stayed up late talking, sometimes well past midnight. On those nights, we'd talked not only about the house, but about other things, too.
Even so, we'd discussed nothing quite this serious.
As far as the house, I wasn't quite sure how to explain how I'd come to lose it. The story was so stupidly embarrassing, because I'd been such an idiot, and the thought of confessing my mistakes – to Brody of all people – was not my idea of a good time.
But he looked so sincere that I continued, anyway. "Alright. The thing is, when my mom inherited her half, she didn't want it."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"All she wanted was the money. And Jason? He didn't want the house either."
"But you did."
With an embarrassed laugh, I said, "Gee, how could you tell?"
At this, he looked almost ready to smile. "Call it a hunch."
"Anyway, my grandparents weren't what you'd call wealthy. But they were really good with money, and the house was completely paid off, which meant that when they died, there was no mortgage or anything. This meant there were no payments except for the taxes and the upkeep. So after the reading of my grandpa's will, I beg my mom – and no, not on my knees, in case you're wondering—"
"I wasn't."
Heat flooded my face. "Sorry. Bad joke."
"You weren't joking." Brody's voice softened. "We both know that. But that's alright. I get it."
Did he? I wasn't sure. Still, I continued. "The point is, I literally beg her to hang on to her half of the house, so I can buy it from her – and Jason's half, too, after I graduate from college."
Recalling my initial optimism, I explained, "You see, b
y this time, I've got only a couple of years left until college graduation, so it's not that awful long. But when I ask my mom for the favor, do you know what she tells me?"
"What?"
"She tells me that I should let it go." A bitter scoff escaped my lips. "As if the place means nothing. And besides, she tells me, she wants her money now, not in a couple of years. And then, when I push the issue, she claims she's doing me a favor by selling it."
"To Jason, you mean?"
If only.
I shook my head. "Actually, she and Jason were both going to sell it. They had a realtor lined up and everything."
"So what happened?" Brody asked.
"So by then, I already know that my mom won't listen. But Jason, he's a little more reasonable."
"He can't be too reasonable," Brody said, "if he sold the place out from under you."
Well, there was that.
Still, I kept on going. "So I beg Jason to buy out my mom's half. I explain to him that it won't even be that hard, because he already owns half of the house on his own. So he'd just need a mortgage for the other half, and not even a big one, payment wise, because he's got plenty of equity, and…" My words trailed off as I remembered where this was going.
My story didn't have a happy ending.
Brody's gaze locked on mine. "And…?"
Oh, screw it. "And besides, it won't be Jason making the payments."
Chapter 39
Brody
What the hell?
I knew what she was getting at. But the question had to be asked. "So who would be making the payments?"
She winced. "You can't guess?"
Shit. "You?"
She nodded. "Right. And it's not just the payments either. There was the money for taxes and repairs—"
"Repairs?" I said. "You're joking, right?"
"Well, yeah," she said. "I mean, no. I'm not joking. And yes, I do realize that Jason didn't actually make them." Under her breath, she added, "Now, anyway."
"And you never checked?"
"At the time?" With obvious reluctance, she replied, "No, actually."
I didn't get it. Arden was no slacker. And she sure as hell wasn't stupid. I asked, "Why not?"
"Because I was always so busy, and it's not like I had any family in the area – well, not anymore. I mean, yeah, there was Jason, but he's pretty anti-social. And whenever I talked about visiting, he got all funny."
I didn't like where this was going. Cousin or not, she should've known the guy was up to no good. Working hard to keep my cool, I said, "Oh yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It was like he thought I was just trying to check on the house or something."
No shit. "Yeah, because you should've."
Her mouth tightened. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."
"Hey, I'm just saying."
"Well, don't." She sighed. "I mean…you don't need to, okay? I know I should've checked. In fact, that's why I was at the house when you caught me in the shower. I was checking on my so-called investment."
I gave her a look. "And how'd that go?"
"You know how it went," she said. "Terrible."
I wouldn't have called it terrible. But yeah, it hadn't gone terrific – unless I counted the sight of Arden with no clothes on. That hadn't been so terrible.
In my mind, I could still see her bare silhouette. She'd looked good. Too good. Through the shower's frosted glass, I hadn't seen much, but what I had seen had been more than enough to get me thinking.
I was still thinking.
But now, the thought of Arden naked was a distraction I didn't need. Already, my body was responding, which only served to piss me off. As I shifted my stance, I told her, "Hey, I was there. Remember?"
"I know you were there," she said. "But you just asked how it went. What, you didn't want an answer?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?"
I was still putting the pieces together. "I'm saying, tell me something I don't know."
"Like what?" she asked.
"Like what happened before I got there."
"Nothing happened," she said. "Jason's supposed to be living there, right? But when I show up, the house is empty, and Jason's nowhere in sight, which makes no sense whatsoever, because I called him beforehand to let him know I was coming. He even promised to meet me." Her shoulders slumped. "But he never showed."
What an asshole.
On that same night, I hadn't shown up until well past midnight, which meant that Arden had been alone in a vacant house for longer than was safe.
When I considered what might've happened to her, I felt my jaw clench. "And then?"
"And then I start texting him. And calling him. And emailing him, too."
Her story jived with what I'd seen on her phone – lots of messages going out and none coming back in.
The way it looked, she'd been had.
I wasn't sure what pissed me off more – that she'd fallen for an obvious scam, or that I'd ended up with swindled property. As far as the house itself, although I hadn't handled the transaction personally, I'd paid a fair price – hell, more than fair, considering its sorry condition.
And now, like a dumb-ass, I was angry on Arden's behalf.
I wanted to find that cousin of hers and beat the money out of him. It wasn't about the cash. Hell, if I wanted, I could give Arden that on my own.
It was the principle.
The guy had cheated his own cousin. And then there was Arden's mom. She sounded like a real piece of work – not as bad as mine, but bad enough.
"So about your cousin," I said, "did he ever get back to you?"
"Yeah, once." Arden rolled her eyes. "After I leave him like a hundred messages. We talked for barely ten minutes. And the whole time, he's acting all funny, like he's scared or something – which of course, he should be, considering that I'll be wanting my money back."
"You mean for the payments."
"Right. And the taxes." She blew out a long, trembling breath. "And the so-called repairs, including some that he supposedly made just last month."
What the fuck?
I shook my head. "So let me get this straight. You kept on writing him checks?"
"Well, yeah," she said. "I didn't want to lose the house – or see it fall apart. The way Jason talked, it was in terrible shape, a lot worse than I ever realized."
No kidding. Another few months, and the house would've been beyond repair. Forget the plumbing and the electricity. It was the roof that was the real issue. Once you have water pouring into any structure, it's only a matter of time before everything goes to pot.
My blood was boiling now as I considered all the ways she'd been cheated.
I told Arden, "But he didn't fix a damn thing."
"Well…we don't know that for sure." She bit her lip. "I mean, he might've made some repairs."
"Trust me. He didn't. And you should've checked."
She frowned. "Yeah. I know. And you don't need to keep telling me that, alright?"
I'd say it a dozen more times if that's what it took. "You sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure. And besides, what if I couldn’t check?"
It was no excuse. I had dozens of properties all over the country, and I kept a close eye on all of them. I replied, "Then you should've had someone else do it."
"Oh yeah?" she scoffed. "Like who?"
"Hell if I know."
"Exactly!" she said. "And hell if I knew either. And let's say I did know someone who was willing to do it, and who knew at least a little something about construction, what was I supposed to do? Have them show up on Jason's doorstep and demand to see the repairs?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Because he's my cousin. Don’t you think that would've been kind of rude?"
"Compared to what?" I said. "Taking your money and doing fuck-all with it?"
Now she looked ready to cry, and I felt like a prick for pushing the issue. But this was Arden Weathers. And
her story was filled with holes.
She wasn't stupid. So why all the dumb decisions?
What the hell was this? Some sort of ploy to get my house into her name?
I mean, yeah, I was angry on her behalf, but that didn't mean I was blind to what she was going for. If she'd been willing to beg me on her knees to fix up the place, she might do just about anything to get what she wanted.
Did that include dishing up a sob story?
Maybe.
I'd been around the block a time or two. And I'd seen far worse from people I knew better.
I wasn't a trusting guy.
Arden glared up at me. "You're acting like I'm some sort of moron for believing him."
She was no moron. I knew this for a fact. But I also knew that when she wanted something, she wasn't one to give up.
And then, there was her story – the sad tale of a girl who'd been wronged. The more I thought about it, the more it made no sense. Either it was missing a few chapters or it was mostly fiction.
"I know you're not stupid," I told her. "And that's the problem."
She blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because your story's a crock."
She drew back. "What?"
"You own half a house for what? Three years? And you don't check on it? You just keep writing checks? That's not the Arden I know."
"Oh yeah?" Her voice rose. "Then maybe you don't know me at all. You ever think of that?"
I had been thinking that, but not in the way she meant now. And this wasn't the time to get into it.
When my only reply was a tight shrug, she said, "And this is why I didn't want to tell you."
"Yeah, I can see why."
"You know what?" she said. "Forget it. I'm sorry I told you anything."
"And I'm sorry I asked."
"Oh, boo hoo," she said. And with that, she turned and stalked back toward her bedroom.
As I watched her go, I might've smiled if I weren't so pissed off. Boo hoo?
Like an idiot, I almost went after her, because there was part of me – a very stupid part of me – that wanted to yank her into my arms and tell her that I'd make everything alright.
It would be easy. Too easy.
As far as giving her back the house, hey that would be easy, too. I had plenty of money, and the deed free and clear. One quick phone call, along with a few signatures, and the house could be hers for good.
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