Page 6 of Summer in Kentbury
“Trespassing is illegal, and we’ll press charges,” the other man chimes in, his designer clothes looking out of place in the rustic setting.
My blood boils in anger and embarrassment. How dare they come here and claim this place astheir own? My chin lifts defiantly as I take a step forward. “I am not lost, and I am certainly not your sweetheart. This is my family’s property, and I have every right to be here. Now, I suggest you leave before I call the authorities.”
The designer clothes guy pauses, scanning the surrounding area before slowly licking his lips in a sensual manner. “That’s a good idea,” he says with a sly smirk, “you call them so they can take you in for trespassing.”
I feel my anger rising, but I try to remain calm as I explain myself. “Listen, I’ve had a pretty shitty couple of months and thought it’d be nice to spend some time at my family’s lake house,” I pause, my voice cracking slightly. “That was until I realized this place is falling apart, and three intruders are pretending to own the place.”
The mattress guy finally drops the cumbersome object in the middle of the living room, causing the sheets to lift and flutter in the air.
“We can show you the deed to the house,” Mattress guy says confidently, gesturing toward the two who stand behind him.
“How about I call my parents and tell them you three are trying to take possession of their house?” I bluff, reaching for my phone which is shaking slightly in my hands from a mixture of anger and confusion.
They’re probably sleeping or just off the grid, enjoying some paella and forgetting that their children might need their help because some guys are trying to steal their property.
“Joanna and Tim Wilde?” Mattress guy asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
I frown, my heart skipping a beat. “You know them?”
He nods sympathetically, “Well, technically, I met them during a video conference while purchasing this place and the few acres they owned.”
“They sold the house?” My voice barely above a whisper as I sink onto the mattress, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly. “When? How?”
“I’m Paul McFolley. These are my siblings, Sinclair and Louanne,” he introduces himself, gesturing to them. “And we bought this place last May as part of our summer camp project.”
“They sold the house,” I repeat, staring off into space as my mind tries to process this new information.
Lou, still gripping her broom like a medieval weapon, steps forward with a mix of confusion and defiance.
A lump forms in my throat, constricting my breath as unshed tears prick at the corners of my eyes. How could my parents sell the house without telling me? This place holds a lifetime of memories, a piece of my childhood that I can never get back. Wrapping my arms around myself, I feel suddenly lost and alone.
My world spins off its axis. Sold? The lake house, sold? A hysterical laugh bubbles up from within me. “No, that can’t be right. My parents would have told us if they were selling our family home.” I shake myhead, trying to make sense of the impossible information.
Sinclair exchanges a knowing look with Paul.
“Here,” Paul says, handing me his phone with a document pulled up. “This is the deed transfer. See? Sold to McFolley Ventures.”
I frantically scan the screen, hoping it’s some kind of mistake. But my heart sinks as I realize it’s true. Those are my parents signatures. But why?
The next thing I do is pull out my phone and call them. Mom sends me to voicemail and texts me reminding me that calls in Spain are expensive. That I can only contact her if I have an emergency.
Umm, this is an emergency. I ask if they sold the house in Kentbury. Her answer astonishes me. She says yes and that we’ll talk later.
“They sold our house.” Those are the only words that I seem to be able to say out loud.
“They did,” Sinclair confirms.
“Why? Why would they sell this place? It’s not just a summer place, it’s our home.” My voice breaks, the weight of this newfound knowledge crushing me.
“No one has used this house in years,” Paul explains, his tone almost defensive. “It seemed like a good idea to buy it and start the summer camp. When I reached out to them, they were more than happy to let us have it—after asking plenty of questions about our motives.”
Lou adds in, her tone apologetic, “It’s in good hands. I promise.”
The stuffy guy who definitely doesn’t belong in this house—or even this town—snaps at me, his eyesnarrowing in annoyance. “Listen, this place isn’t yours anymore and we need to clean it up so I can stop living with my brother.”
“Don’t bring your Boston attitude to this town, Sin,” Lou warns her brother, then turns to me with a sympathetic look. “Please excuse him. He’s still adjusting to life outside the city.”
I stand there, my mind reeling with shock and confusion as I try to come to terms with the fact that my childhood home is no longer mine.
