“I think it might be time, Jordan.”
“Why?” I asked. “I love our house.Youlove our house. Why would we leave it?”
He looked pained. “I know, honey. But if we sell, we could get a nice apartment in the city—”
I could feel my blood pressure spike. “You don’t only want to sell, you want to move toBoston? Dad, it’s where we lived with Mom.”
“I know, honey,” he said again, softer.
Wait. “Is this a money thing? Can we not afford it?”
“It’s only partially a money thing. It’s mostly a timing thing, Jordan. I think it’s time.”
“Well, I don’t.” I sat back and folded my arms. “So it’s one against one.”
“But I’m the dad, so I get two votes.”
“That’s not fair.”
He grimaced. “I know. Sorry.”
“If it’s a money thing, if I can figure out some solution, could we stay?”
“Honey. I know this is hard. I promise it’ll work out okay.”
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. You don’t have to make me promises, especially when you don’t know if you can keep them.”
His lips pressed together. “Right. No, I know. You’re not a little kid.”
In stilted silence, we packed up our leftovers. Dad didn’t have a car today, so he called me a ride, even though I insisted I could take the bus partway and walk the rest. “It’d be easier if I was staying with you,” I said grumpily.
“Jordan, the Barbanels are being incredibly generous by letting you stay.”
“Them being generous doesn’t make me like it any more.” Dad was selling our home and dumping me on strangers; could he want any less to do with me?
“Can’t you try, with them?” Dad sounded tired. He pressed his hand to his forehead as the car he’d ordered rolled up beside us. “Can you please, at least, try?”
I felt like the most horrible daughter in the world: whiny and bitter and troublesome. If I wanted Dad to focus on himself, I had to give him less cause to worry about me. “Okay, Dad. Yes. I’ll try.”
Five
So I decided to try.
Back at Golden Doors, the windows were glowing—golden, even. A blast of music and laughter greeted me as I stepped inside. Someone was having a party, probably in the large room I’d had breakfast in earlier. I hesitated. It was only eight, which felt too early for hiding in my room, especially when normally I’d be headed out to a party or to hang with my friends. But I didn’t feel comfortable walking into something I knew nothing about.
“Jordan! How are you? How was your day?”
I looked up to see Ethan’s mom, Stephanie, coming down the stairs into the entryway. “Oh, hi. It was good. How are you? Are you guys having a party?”
“Just a few friends who came to the island for the week. The kids are probably hiding upstairs in the cousins’ room, if you’d like to join them.”
“Oh, um, okay…Where’s that?”
“This way.” She led me through a string of rooms off the foyer: a music room with a mini grand, a sitting room with ornatemirrors. We entered a hallway with a narrow staircase. “It’s up there, at the end of the hall, on the right. You’ll hear them.”
“Thanks.” I climbed the stairs, feeling somewhat fazed about crashing a roomful of cousins who’d known each other their whole lives. I might have tried to escape, but Stephanie watched, beaming, as I went up the stairs. And I wanted to try.
I took a deep breath and entered the room.
