Page 58 of Love Songs

Then the old house came into view, and I stopped breathing until my body took over and forced my lungs to expand.

She looked worse than the last time I’d seen her, when we’d been called out because some kids had gotten inside and one of them had gotten his foot stuck in a broken tread on the staircase. The once cheery yellow wood siding looked grayer and more brittle—like a stack of cards that one strong breeze could send tumbling down. Some of the window casings were hanging by single nails or were completely gone, and then there was the ever-present graffiti on the boarded-up windows. She was in a sad state and in dire need of some major TLC. I wanted to be the one to give that to her. I wanted to be the one who brought her back to her former glory.

I wanted to be the one to call her home.

Dallas parked the car in the gravel area near the front of the house, overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, and cut the engine.

“Surprise,” he whooped, his voice full of energy and face radiant with uncontainable joy. “I bought a house.”

I amended my previously stated love of surprises. This was one I could do without.

I stared at him, unable to comprehend what he’d said for a moment. I didn’t know what kind of expression my face revealed, but his smile slipped, and his eyebrows knitted together.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the shining light of his excitement dimming from his eyes.

A noise escaped my mouth, and I wasn’t sure if it was a gasp or a sob. Whatever it was, it hurt my throat on the way out.

“Conor,” Dallas said, his voice low and laced with concern. He placed a hand on my biceps, gentle but firm in a way that let me know he wasn’t pushing, but that he was there for me. “You’re scaring me.”

I opened my mouth a couple of times, feeling like a fish gasping for air because my windpipe was so tight that I couldn’t push enough breath through it to speak. My lungs had frozen along with the rest of my body.

“You bought my house,” I finally mumbled in disbelief.

I hoped he hadn’t heard that, but Dallas stared at me for a minute and tilted his head. Confusion slashed across his face.

“What do you mean?” He eyed me cautiously. “Was this your house?”

I still couldn’t find my words, but Dallas had been so excited to share this with me, and Jaylin was bouncing in the backseat as though she couldn’t stand waiting any longer to go inside. That last thing I wanted to do was put a damper on this for them. No matter how much it hurt to learn that this house would never be mine. But if I couldn’t have it, then at least knowing Dallas had been the one to buy it took the sharp edges off my shock.

I pulled myself together, plastered the biggest smile I could muster on my face, and had to clear my throat a few times before I could sound words again.

“Congratulations,” I said, wincing internally at the less than enthusiastic cheer. “But you do know this house needs a lot of work, right?”

“Ye-es,” Dallas drew out, studying me for a few seconds, as though unsure of what to think of my reaction. Then the light came back on in his eyes. He nodded and spoke a mile a minute when he said, “Nolan Kaslo, the realtor, told me all about its history. It’s amazingly rich and added to the charm that drew me in. But I’d know from the second I saw it that it was home.”

The same way I’d felt when I’d first seen it, too.

“I know the feeling,” I agreed softly. It was supposed to be my home.

“Come on.” Dallas opened his door. “Let’s check it out.”

I took a second to pull a few deep breaths into my lungs, telling myself to be happy that it was Dallas who’d bought my dream house and not some developer who’d tear it down and build condos or something unsightly in its place.

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked as I exited the car and walked with Dallas and Jaylin to the front steps. “Are you going to tear it down and build a new house?”

He stopped so fast that I bumped into him.

“No way,” he said with equal parts conviction and horror that I’d dared to ask such a thing. “I’m going to restore it back to its original grandeur, with a few new modern touches in the kitchen and bathrooms, mostly. But it’s too gorgeous of a home with too deep a history to tear it down.”

“Good,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Wow, Dad,” Jaylin said, awe lacing her voice as he she looked up, taking the house in. “This place is sick. It’s likesomething out of a horror movie.” She turned to me. “Is it haunted?”

“No,” I sniped, my tone sharper than I’d meant. Jaylin and Dallas both looked at me with matching expressions of surprise. “No,” I repeated softer. “It’s not haunted. Just old and neglected.”

She hummed thoughtfully, then, with all the conviction of a teenager, said, “We’ll take care of it from now on.”

My body relaxed a little at knowing they were going to do right by the old girl, but now that the initial shock had worn off, I didn’t quite know what to make of this shift in reality.

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