Chapter 27
Booker
“How’s he doing?”I ask Willa as I scramble eggs at the stovetop. We’ve grown close these past few months, and I don’t have to put on a brave face when she’s around. Unlike my boys, who would jump at the chance to confront Ian about his assholery, the girls get it. They understand that I’m sad, and they let me vent.
“About as well as you are,” she says, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
I want to dig for more info, but before I can, my phone buzzes with a text.
Fallon: We’re on our way over, so make sure Whit puts some clothes on.
“Hey, is something wrong?” Willa reads the look of shock on my face.
“Maybe? I’m not sure. Fallon texted that they’re on their way over here, but I don’t know what that means.” Did she and Em make a break for it? Definitely possible. Or is my dad on his way to save my soul? Also an option. “The good thing is we’ve got about an hour until they get here.”
“Until who gets here?” Ty asks, scratching his chest as he walks down the steps. Phoebe’s ahead of him, carrying Rose.
“My family. How many of them? I’m not sure. Fallon hasn’t texted back yet. Maybe you guys want to head out for a bit. There’s a decent chance things are gonna get ugly.”
“You want us to leave?” Whit asks from his spot next to Lucy on the couch. “What the hell’s the matter with you? First you go to get your stuff without me, and now you’re showing us out the door? Hard pass.”
“I’m with Whit. I’ve wanted to punch your dad in the face since I was, like, thirteen. Today might be my lucky day.” Knox sounds way too excited about the prospect of a fight.
“I call dibs next,” Lucy chimes in.
They’re crazy, every last one of them. But they’re my family and I’m glad to have backup, even if it means mentally calculating bail money at nine in the morning.
Before we can brace ourselves or form any type of plan, the doorbell rings.
“Did they fly here?” Phoebe asks as Ty opens the door to reveal my mom and sisters. Em strides right in and plops down on the floor next to Rose. Fallon gives me a hug, and my mom stands in the doorway, uncertainty written on her face.
“Is he parking the car?” I ask. There’s plenty of space outside, but I don’t put it past my father to park halfway down the road just to protect his precious vehicle.
“Grant? No, he’s not with us. I don’t know where he is, actually. At the office, I’d guess. I brought some food over. Would you boys mind helping me carry it in?”
Ty and Knox follow her out, as I look to Fallon for clarification. “What’s going on?” I sign. But before my sister can answer, my mom walks back in and wraps me in a hug. “I took some very good advice,” she tells me. “And we left. We’re renting a place near campus. A friend of mine owns it, and it’s perfect for the three of us for now. You’re always welcome, of course, but you won’t need to bunk with us since you have this place.”
I’m thrilled she’s moved out, though I have about a million questions. But first, I need to set the record straight. “This place isn’t mine, Mom. Didn’t you hear what he said last week. It’s family property. But if you found a place near campus, maybe we can too. Granted, there are, like, fifty of us, so it might be trickier.”
My mother reaches for her purse. “Honey, do you have a dollar?”
“A dollar?” I ask because what is even happening right now?
“Yes. Just one.”
I pat down my sweats, but the only thing in my pocket is my airpods, so I stride over to the little table where we keep our keys and wallets. “Here, Mom,” I offer it over. “Are you going to do a magic trick or something, because if so, who are you and what have you done with my mother? Also, I don’t have time for magic tricks.”
“No magic, I promise. Just some long overdue changes.” She pulls a stack of papers out of her giant mom-bag and hands them to me. “This house is yours, Booker. I’ve deeded it over to you. My lawyer said you should pay me a dollar for it, and you just did, so it’s all legal. Now, of course, I’ll want you to let the girls stay here if they decide to go to college at Bainbridge, but the house and property are all yours.”
I’m too stunned to speak, so I just listen as my mom explains. “This house was always in my family. And it needs to stay that way. Your education through next year is paid for by the trust my father set up. I should have called you as soon as everything happened, but I had to be sure. I had to talk to the lawyer and get all my ducks in a row. And…”
“But what does Dad have to say about this?”
She takes a deep breath. “He doesn’t get to have an opinion on this. I’ve left Grant and filed for divorce.”
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief rushes through my veins. They’re free. And they’re going to be ok, I can feel it.
“This calls for celebratory food,” Whit announces, heading into the kitchen. Everyone follows to help out and to unpack everything my mom brought, but I hang back. I have a feeling there’s more to the story.
