Page 130 of Slumming It
As far as my two current visitors, I wasn't quite sure what I'd been expecting, but none of this jived with their billionaire personas.
Plus, their language was a lot saltier than I ever would've guessed. They sounded a lot like my own brothers as opposed to a couple of wealthy moguls who controlled billions in assets.
Across from me, Slade said, "Maybe you should help her – you know, toss a few things into the bag."
Reese said, "Maybeyoushould drop it."
Slade laughed. "What, the bag? I'm not even holding it."
Again, I spoke up. "Actually, she doesn't want any help."
Slade looked unconvinced. "And you know this, how?"
"Because I offered." In truth, I'd offered multiple times, and Ihadhelped her for a few hours earlier today. But maybe an hour ago, she'd asked for some privacy to finish up on her own.
So here I was, acting as a gatekeeper while hosting two men who looked ready to kill each other. Okay, technically only Reese looked murderous, but Slade was definitely goading him.
What they needed was a distraction. I heard myself say, "Do you want to see the pumpkin patch?"
They both looked at me.
I pointed toward the door. "We should have a great crop for Halloween."
Slade only scoffed. "Too bad you don't grow lemons."
I felt my irritation rise to the surface. "You can't grow lemons in Michigan."Dumb-ass.I didn't say it, because I didn't want to be rude.
But then, to my surprise and delight, Reese said it for me. "Dumb-ass."
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
To my further surprise, Slade laughed, too. "Hey, I've got a lemon tree in my condo that says otherwise."
"But that's not in Michigan," I said. "And besides, indoors doesn't count."
"Alright, forget the lemons," Slade said. "Let's talk about your trailer."
Well, that was unexpected."Technically, it's not ours," I explained. "It belonged to Grandpa Joe."
Slade gave me a questioning look. "Belonged?"
I nodded. "Yeah, he died about five years ago."
Slade's eyebrows furrowed. "You mean here in the trailer?"
"No," I bristled. "While on vacation in Arizona."
He sank deeper into the sofa. "Well, that's a relief."
I couldn't disagree even if hewasbeing a clod about it.
After Grandpa Joe had died, my parents had kept his mobile home on-site for guests and gatherings – and for the occasional bounce-back when any of their five kids ran into challenges on the housing front.
Between job losses and other minor calamities, the trailer had seen its share of action, including now with me and Vivian.
When I made no reply, Slade pointed in the general direction of my parents' place. "So why aren't you living in the house?"
"Because that's where my parents live."
