Page 21 of I Can't Even

I read the paper. Sure enough, the mean girl was right. For the months of June, July, and August, the Blumer sisters were to live together in this house unless we opted out and then everything went to Paisley.

I glanced at my sisters. Soph was reading over the document, clearly trying to parse out what Babs had been thinking. I knew what she’d been thinking. She’d come up with the perfect way for me to alienate both of my sisters when I refused to fall in with her deranged scheme.

I tapped the sheet and faced Mr. Loren. “This isn’t going to work for me. I have a business in New York. I will lose my customer base if I’m gone for three months.”

“I told her that,” the attorney said with a sympathetic smile.

“And I have children,” Soph argued. “I can’t just move out of my house and leave my husband and two teenagers to fend for themselves.”

“Actually, your mother took it upon herself to arrange for the twins to attend an exclusive camp in Switzerland for most of the summer.” Mr. Loren cleared his throat. “She thought it would give them polish.”

Soph slapped a hand over her forehead. “Hang on, I think I’m having a stroke.”

Em looked between us. I could tell by the wobble in her lower lip that she was losing the battle to keep it together. “So, you’re both out?”

“No,” Soph and I answered together. Soph continued, “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure there is a loophole or a way around this.”

“Exactly.” I scowled at the attorney. “There has to be some wiggle room.”

Em’s shoulders sank. “Right, because staying here with me in Gull Harbor is so horrible.”

“Em, it’s not that,” I protested.

“Sure, it is,” my youngest sister said. “Just leave then—after all that’s what you do best.”

With that, Em stormed out of the dining room, her feet pounding on the stairs as she dashed up to her bedroom. The slam of her door echoed through the house, and we all sat there as if waiting for someone else to erupt from the table.

“I think Em has had a very long day,” Soph said.

“Understandable,” Mr. Loren acknowledged. “I did try to persuade your mother not to do this or at the very least to talk to you all about it first but, well, you know your mother.”

“And how,” I said. Babs and her endless machinations had struck again.

“I’ll go talk to Em,” Soph said.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll hammer out the deets with Mr. Loren.”

I ignored Paisley and Mr. Loren gave me a wary look while Soph left the room. I wondered if he thought I was going to pick a fight with my cousin. I would never, okay, that’s another lie. I might one day but not today.

Mr. Loren stood and lifted the lid off the box on the table. Judging by his grunt it took some muscle to heft Babs’s urn out of the box. He put it on the table with a solid thunk. I recognized it as the one the crematorium had listed in their paperwork. It was gold plated with mother of pearl and Swarovski crystals all over it. Very delicate and stylish as a final resting place.

“What is that?” Paisley asked. “Did Aunt Barbara leave her most prized possession to her favorite niece?”

“Not quite,” Mr. Loren said. “This is Barbara.”

“Oh.” Paisley made a moue of distaste.

I reached out and ran one finger over the Swarovski crystals that encrusted the top of the urn.

I turned to Mr. Loren and asked, “Did she tell you what she wanted done with her urn? Are we to inter her in a cemetery or did she expect us to keep her with us for the next three months?”

“Yes, the latter,” he said.

I blinked. “I was joking.”

“She wasn’t,” the attorney replied.

“So, we’ll keep the urn on the mantel or something?” Knowing Babs, she had a very specific placement in mind for her urn.

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