Page 76 of Hello Forever
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The next dayI couldn’t stop thinking about the house. Even as I stood in our old kitchen stirring pasta sauce at the stove, I took yet another mental tour of the otherplace.
In its current condition, the vacant house wasn’t beautiful. But it hadsomuch potential. The backyard was especially large, with space for a patio.“And look! There’s already a basketball hoop over the garage,”Axel hadpointedout.
For some reason, that detail made it seem real, because it made me picture a future there. Axel could teach Scotty how to dribble crossovers while I grilled the burgers. Mark could finish his homework at the kitchen counter (currently made of laminate, but we could eventuallyupgrade.)
I wanted that future sodamnbad.
“The bank called again today looking for Dad,” Jared said behind me. “But I think there’s progress, because when I told the loan officer that Dad was in prison, he said, ‘Oh, I see a note about that inthefile.’”
I snorted. “That’s progress? I guess you’re right. At least it’s made it into some corner ofthefile.”
Jared stole a carrot stick from the heap I’d made on the serving platter. “What’ll happen to this house if we don’t pay themortgage?”
“Either Dad will sell it, or the bank will take it,” I said. “But we’ll be okay. We’ll go livesomewhereelse.”
“Can’t we just pay the mortgage?” Mark asked. I hadn’t heard him come into the room. So far, Jared was the only one I’d spoken to about our current housing difficulties. He was old enough to figure out the problemhimself.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “I can’t pay the mortgage alone. I don’t make enough money. And the court will probably make Dad pay it. But they won’t get around to that for a while. Until after histrial.”
“What are we going to do?” Mark asked, sounding about five years younger than he was. Sounding like a frightenedchild.
I turned to look him in the eye. “There are a few possibilities. I’m going to choose thebestone.”
“Like what?” He wasn’t going to letitgo.
“Grandma and Grandpa in Canada might end up helping us.” Our mom’s parents were deceased, but my father’s were about a hundred years old and living in a nursing home. I hadn’t spoken to them yet about what was going on, and I didn’t know if my father had. But if we became truly destitute, I was going to petition themforhelp.
“I don’t want to move to Canada,” Mark said quickly, his browfurrowing.
“We’re not,” I said gently. “Moving is a last-place option. But it’s possible I’ll need to find a full-time job, and the Henning job market isn’t allthatbig.”
Markcringed.
“There’s one other idea.” I turned off the pasta sauce to buy myself a moment. Mark and I had been circling each other these past two weeks. I’d made myself available to him, hoping he’d ask me questions about Axel or Amy or both. But he hadn’t. Meanwhile, we’d seen Axel twice—once for a pizza dinner and once when Axel came over for lunch on the weekend. Both times, Mark hadignoredhim.
But now I was going for it. I was going to bring it up, and he was going to have to deal. “Axel wants to buy a house. We might all livethere.”
Mark dropped his eyes. “Where?” heasked.
“NewburyStreet.”
He rubbed a rough corner of the tiled floor with his toe. “Is that the best option?” heasked.
“Probably,” I said quietly. “Unless Dad does something generous and signs over this house to us. And even then we couldn’taffordit.”
Mark chewed his lip. “But we can afford it if we livewithAxel?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We’d pay him back when we could. But he’s not going to kick us to the curb. And you could stay in school with yourfriends.”
“Can we eat now?” Jared asked. “I’m starved, and I havehomework.”
The moment broken, I turned back to the stove and relit the fire under thesauce.
“Pasta again?” Mark complained. It’s not like my father had made the boys terrific meals. But he used to buy lots of frozen crap that I couldn’t afford. They were used to nuking whichever pizza or burrito struck theirfancy.
I tore the top off a box of pasta and poured it into the boiling water. “There’s something you should know about Axel,” I said. “He’s a fabulous cook.” I wondered what he’d think of me talking up his cooking to win over Mark. I pictured him in his apartment kitchen, checking the chicken in the oven. He’d probably be okay with it, actually. After all, it washisidea to live with the entire Williamsbrood.
