Page 100 of Lemon Crush

“Probably. I can’t think how else he could have found out.”

My stepmother may have divorced him, but she was very into spirituality and all about forgiveness. She believed everyone deserved an endless supply of second chances. That it was never too late to change. That the waste of space who’d sired me might suddenly transform into a loving family man and actually stickaround. It was bullshit, and we all knew it. I decided to punch out a quick reply.

Me: Lose this number, jackass.

I wanted to say more. That he’d never been a father or a grandfather to any of us, and we were fine without him. But it was healthier for me not to waste my time.

I loved my family, and he’d never been a part of it. Simple as that. I’d have to block this number and talk to Yvonne about doing the same.

I sighed. “He’s not worth the air it would take to talk about him. I’m over it. You said you had something to show me?”

Morgan shook off her anger on my behalf and clapped her hands together. “Yes. And thankfully, this is much better news. Good enough to make you forget all about that jerk. Don’t move.”

She rushed to the kitchen island and picked up a thick file, which she laid in front of me with a flourish. Then she sat down in the chair next to mine and reached for her coffee again. “Go on. Open it.”

The way my day was going, odds were low I’d be as excited as she was, but I opened the folder anyway. Right on top of the pile was a printout of a two-story house I vaguely recognized. “This is right around the corner from here, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” She slid it over to reveal more pictures of the house’s interior. “They let me come in and take these myself. It has athree-car garage, Wade. Did you know I was practically neighbors with a retired football player? Because I didn’t. He and his wife built this house with big-guy comfort in mind. The kitchen is huge. The doors are all extra wide. The upstairs is a man-cave-style game room and the bathtub is basically a swimming pool. Oh…” She shuffled more papers. “The backyard has pool too. A lap pool and a built-in outdoor kitchen with a grill. It’s got everything you wanted and then some.”

It was a nice house—really nice—and I’d been sort of interested when I thought she and Gene might be thinking of upgrading to move there themselves. Then the “everythingyouwanted” caught up with me.

“Why am I looking at pictures of someone else’s house, Morgan?”

“Because it’s going to be yours.”

Damn it, she was beaming like Anna showing Kristoff his new sleigh (I’d lost a bet and had to watchFrozenwith Phoebe. It wasn’t that bad).

“How do you figure that?” I asked carefully.

“Since your real estate agent wasn’t helping and the rental site wasn’t offering you anything you liked, I started asking around. It was no trouble. It turns out they only decided to move out of state after the hurricane. They were planning to put it up for sale next week, but I caught them before they could, and now they’re holding it so you can make an offer. Don’t worry, I made sure it was in your price range. Gene says he can’t wait to barbecue over at your place and lounge in the pool.”

She’d already shown this to Gene?

They wereholdingit? Forme?

It really is a great house.

I pushed the papers away. “I appreciate all the effort you went to, but you should tell them to go ahead and put it on the market.”

She stared at me for a moment, looking genuinely confused. “I don’t understand.”

“The apartment is fine for me. With the race and work and the baby coming, I don’t have the time or energy to do a big move, buy furniture, and shop for lawnmowers at the moment. I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on right now?”

Shit. “I just told you.”

“And I just put your dream home right in front of you, after you’ve spent the last four months describing to me in detail what you wanted. That apartment is too small for you to turn around in comfortably, and you already know Bernie and I can help you with the furniture shopping. So, I repeat: What is going on right now?”

“I’m happy where I am,” I told her impatiently. “If it’s still available when I’m ready to move, I’ll think about it again. But right now, I’m saying no. Don’t push this.”

“Sure. Fine. That makes total sense.” She got up and gathered the papers back into the file, her temper making the simple task more violent than it should have been. “I only wasted a week and invaded these people’s home while getting their hopes up for nothing.”

“You should have talked to me first.”

“Ihavetalked to you. For months. What’s changed since the last time you said this was what you wanted? Phoebe was still pregnant then. You were still working then. A race was still going to be happening then, because a race isalwayshappening. If you’re staying at the apartment as some favor to me and Mom because you’re worried August won’t be able to cover her bills next?—”

“That’s enough, Morgan.” I stayed in my chair, aware of my size and my anger, my fists clenched on the table. “I’m doing this for me. I’m not ready to leave her yet. I’m sorry that doesn’t fit in with your plans and schedules, but I am capable of making my own decisions for my own damn life.”

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