I sit there, still, taking in every word before I nod automatically.
Because that’s what I always do when she makes my work sound smaller than it is.
“I might not get to keep the show anyway. I need to provide my own fixer-upper.” I face the ceiling again, fighting back the emotions threatening to spill out. “Like, hello, I don’t just have a fixer-upper home lying around like some people.”
“Actually,” my dad’s voice says, forcing me to snap my head toward the doorway again. “Maybe you do.”
This time, I smile when I see my dad.
“Billy,” my mother warns. “We talked about this.”
He nods, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know we have, Laura. But this is a big opportunity for her. I want to see her take it.”
I sit up in my bed, staring at them, confused.
“Do you remember your grandmother? My mom? I know it’s been a while, but you used to call her Mimi Millie,” he says through a soft smile at the memory.
My gaze falls to the floor, searching for a memory. I try to piece together a face, a voice, or a laugh. But for the most part, it’s all a blur to me. It’s been so long since anyone’s even mentioned her.
“I don’t remember, why?” I ask, looking back up at my dad.
“Well, when she passed away years ago, she left you her house. You were only thirteen and obviously had no means to have your own home. But it’s in Bluestone Lakes and only about an hour from here.”
My eyes widen with shock.
I try to think deeper into my memories of her. But still, I barely remember Mimi Millie or her house. I know my grandfatherpassed away before I was even born and she lived alone, but I had no idea Mimi had died.
But a memory hits me the longer I stare at my dad, shock still all over my face and unable to speak yet. I was young the last time we went there. Then one year we just…stopped going. There was no explanation or dramatic fight that I know of. I never received birthday cards from her, and even my parents stopped saying her name.
So why did she leave her house to me?
Better yet, why am I just finding out about it now?
“I know you have a lot of questions,” he says, reading my mind.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
He laughs. “This is long overdue. Your mother and I wanted to find the right time to give this to you.”
What is even happening right now?
My mom leans into him. “Are you sure this is the right time?” she whispers, thinking I can’t hear. “She still barely has a stable income to survive on her own.”
“I’m in the room,” I announce.
“Yes, Laura. It’s been forever since any of us has seen the place and it’s been abandoned since she passed. Which means it’ll need awhole lotof work.”
“There’s a big difference between renovatingthishome,” my mom says with her arms out showcasing the room. “And renovating an abandoned one. I don’t think she’s ready for that kind of work.”
“Stillright here,” I try again, forcing a small, tight smile. My jaw tightens in aggravation, because even though I haven’t seen this house or remember it, IknowI have what it takes.
“She’s ready,” my dad answers for me. “The house is yours. Use it for the show. Make it yours and do whatever you want with it. You can even stay there when you’re done, or sell it to buy something here.” He steps fully into the room for the first time placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’re ready. Yourgrandmother always wanted that house to shine again after Grandpa died, but she didn’t have it in her. I know you’ll make her proud.”
My mom exhales slowly. “I just hope you don’t end up in over your head with this, Scottlyn.”
“She won’t,” my dad says with confidence before my mom turns to leave.
A tear escapes and I wipe it quickly. I rush for my dad, wrapping my arms around his neck for a hug. “Thank you.”
