He shrugged and grunted.
She sighed again. “Maybe you should look for a place, find a job, get a ticket back to the mainland, disappear from my life never to be seen again?” She spoke beneath her breath, and he didn’t respond. Likely he couldn’t hear her over the drone of dance music repeating the same phrase over and over again. It was enough to drive any sane person mad.
“Please turn it down,” she said, louder this time.
He reached for the remote and bumped the volume button a couple of times. It made little difference, but it didn’t matter anyway. She’d be late for work if she didn’t leave soon. That was when she noticed the crumbs on the couch.
She strode to the piece of furniture and glared at it, as if it would provide some kind of answers for the state it was in.
“Did you eat on the couch again?”
“Huh?” Sean didn’t break eye contact with the television screen.
“I asked you not to eat on the couch unless you’re going to use a plate or tray. There are crumbs.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled with a grin. “I didn’t realise you were such a fuddy-duddy.”
“Fuddy-duddy?” She pressed her hands to her hips. “I don’t want to encourage cockroaches and mice. That’s all.”
“Yes, Mum.” He chuckled.
She fumed, her nostrils flaring. She wasn’t being motherly. She was simply sick of him living in her unit, eating her food, and playing games on her television set. As nice as it was to have family around again, and she did enjoy his company, there was a line for how long a sister should support her older brother, and he’d most definitely crossed it. She was barely able to pay her bills on a good week, let alone with another hungry mouth to feed.
His brown hair flopped over his eyes, curls obscuring his vision. A dimple played in one cheek. He could be charming when he chose to be. Most of the time, it was hard for her to be angry at him — he was cute and fun, and he knew it. But today was not one of those times. Today, she was ready for him to get up off his lazy behind and find himself a job and a place to live.
But she couldn’t say that because he was family. And not only that, but he was the last of her family. The only person in the world she was related to, other than the father she hadn’t seen since she was tiny, so if he wanted to sleep on her couch forever, she would most likely let him. She couldn’t bear the idea of breaking contact with him over something as trivial as personal space and couch crumbs. Still … surely he would want to dosomethingwith his life before much more time passed. He’d never been one to sit still for long.
As she gathered dirty dishes and cups from the various places around the flat he’d deposited them, she drew in deep, calming breaths and reminded herself that this wouldn’t last forever. He’d move on, the way he always did, and leave her wondering where he was and whether she’d ever see him again. It was Sean all over — no sense of boundaries, followed by no semblance of intimacy. Rinse and repeat.
“Remember when you told me about the solicitor and gave me that letter about Mum’s will?” She’d been meaning to bring up their conversation so many times over the weeks, but hadn’t been able to find an opportunity.
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“Could you turn that off just for a minute, please?”
With an eye roll, Sean switched off the television and spun to face her. “You have my full and undivided attention, sis. What is it?”
She drew another deep breath. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Mum’s estate. When I left town, they hadn’t resolved her estate yet. You said you’ve spoken with the solicitor?”
Sean nodded, then strode to the kitchen to pour himself a coffee. “Yep. I wouldn’t bother calling him, if I were you. You know about the house and the bank accounts. That’s it, really.”
Their mother hadn’t been rich by any stretch of the imagination—Charmaine was well aware of that. But she had owned a small house, and in this market, even a small house was worth a decent amount of money. Especially when it was fully paid for, which she definitely recalled her mother doing, which was why she was confused.
They’d had a party that night — just the three of them. Mum had bought a mud cake from Coles, and they’d lit a candle and danced around, singing to the radio. Then she’d blown out the candle and shouted, “The house is finally mine, after all this time. I’ve scrimped, saved and paid off every single dollar. No more worrying about being thrown out by the bank. We might starve, but we’ll always have a place to lay our heads.”
There’d been tears in her eyes when she spoke. Even though Charmaine had been an adult at the time of the celebration, she hadn’t fully understood until recently how much the achievement would’ve meant to her mother. Now that she was older and living at the mercy of a landlord, working minimum wage, she could comprehend the joy her mother must’ve felt after so many years of striving to provide for her children.
“I have questions about the house. Why was there so little equity left in it? I know Mum paid it off. Where did the money go?”
Sean shrugged. “She spent a lot of it before she died. She took out another mortgage. I’m sure you know more about it than I do. Didn’t you rent it out?”
“One of Mum’s friends rented it from me. I wasn’t sure what to do since you skipped town and I couldn’t sell it without your approval.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry—I should’ve been there.”
“I don’t get it.” Charmaine shook her head. “Mum was so proud of herself for paying off that mortgage. Why would she get another one? And why not tell me about it?”
“She had a lot of bills. Especially after she got sick.”
