Rae kept talking about how Cassie would be alone, how hard it would be for her. I was about to be orphaned all over again, but Rae didn’t see it that way. In the end, she only thought of Cassie. No one cared what would happen to me.
***
I’ve just sat on a bench opposite my darling sister’s hotel when my phone rings.
“Miss Quinn! I’m sorry I couldn’t get back to you until now. Is this a good time?”
“Yes, of course. Thanks for calling me back.”
A week after Rae’s funeral, a local Realtor named Martin Beckmann came by the house and asked to talk to the owner. I said that was me. One of us anyway.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking a tour the other day,” he says now, sounding as slimy as he did back then. “Your sister told me you’d be okay with that. In fact, I’ll need to come by again. Would now work by any chance? I just wrapped up an appointment nearby.”
I guess I should feel glad he’s asking me now, since he wasn’t so considerate last time.
Just then, Cassie and Olivier come out of the hotel. I get up too fast, and blood rushes to my head.
“Miss Quinn?”
“Yes,” I say, starting to walk a little behind the happy couple.
At the time, Martin Beckmann had seen the obituary in the paper and wanted to ask if we might be interested in selling the house, now that our mother had passed.Truly sorry for your loss, he’d said.So you own the place with your sister, is that right?
“I called earlier to ask you something, if that’s okay?” I say, ignoring his previous question.
“Um, yes, sure.”
“My sister is traveling at the moment. I don’t want to bother her with this.”
Definitely not when she’s walking ahead of me. She and Olivier both look tense, going fast, staring straight ahead. Not talking. After our phone call, I followed Cassie right back to the hotel. Then I wandered the streets for a while, unsure what to do. I grabbed a sandwich, called the Realtor, and waited.
“Anything I can do to help.”
Hereallywants that commission.
“It’s a bit delicate. The truth is, my sister and I don’t always see eye to eye.” I force a smile, hoping he can hear it. “And as you know, we own the house together since our mother passed away…” I pause, letting him jump in. He doesn’t. “The thing is, we’re not blood sisters, Cassie and I. Her mother adopted me. But it’s all the same now.”
“And your question is?” he says, sounding colder now.
“Well, I guess, I was wondering…since you’ve been in touch with Cassie lately… I mean, I wanted to check that we’re all on the same page here.”
“Hmm” is all he says for a while. But this time I’m not going to fill the silence, so I wait until he continues. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. Family dynamics can be tricky.” Again I bite my lip. “I think you should speak to your sister.”
“Right, maybe we should all hit pause for a while. You don’t really need to come back to the house until she returns from her trip, do you? I’d rather not have any visitors this week.”
“Well, hmm, I have some interested buyers, and I was hoping to show them the place sooner rather than later. But I’d like to come by before then to make sure it’s in tip-top shape.”
He pauses then, and it hits me, the state we left the house in. The wedding had just wrapped up; I’m not even sure I put all the leftovers in the fridge. I picture the empty beer bottles strewn about, the torn wrapping paper from the gifts the happy couple received. I was supposed to drive back home and clean it all up. I definitelywouldhave cleaned it up, if I hadn’t jumped on that plane. The flowers must be starting to wilt now. Did he say anything to Cassie? Could she know I haven’t been home since?
“Look, like I said,” he continues, “it’s not for me to discuss, but the fact is, I saw the deed. I’m sorry you’ve been led to believe otherwise, but your sister inherited the house from her father. It’s all in her name.”
I can’t breathe. I heard what Cassie said earlier, but she says lots of things and most of them are complete bullshit. She’ll talk about how she created a candle business when in fact it was me who designed the labels to stick on the jars and paid to get them printed. Me who continued to buy the ingredients because Cassie insisted it was such a great idea, and that all her friends were already placing orders. She’d sold one-tenth of our stock before she decided she was bored with that and wanted to do something else.
And it wasmewho first thought selling the house would be a good idea. I’d originally suggested we spruce up the inn and reopen it, but Cassie had scoffed.I can’t see myself running a business with you, she’d said. Martin Beckmann had left me his business card after giving his pitch—the town might be a little run-down but there was so much opportunity in the region and developers called him all the time. That night I brought it up with Cassie, fear pooling at the bottom of my stomach. I offered her what I thought she’d wanted this whole time: to be rid of me.
We’d sell the house, split the money, and go our own ways. I had no idea what I’d do, but I knew I didn’t need much. Half the money from the house would be a huge leg up to start over elsewhere. That would be my way of taking care of Cassie, as her mother wanted, and relieving her of me. Of course, as soon as I finished speaking, Cassie threw a fit, called me a gold digger, and stormed out of the room. I’d left the business card on the console in the entrance and noticed it was gone the next day. Cassie must have thrown it out. Case closed. Or so I’d assumed.
“You’re certain about that?” I say, trying to keep my voice light. I’m homeless, but it’s okay!
