I clenched my jaw. Great. Now my mother’s home was being packaged as the next culinary mecca.
“No. The house is packed with furniture.” It wasn’t Karen’s business that Bernie was coming by this afternoon to help me move things. “And I don’t have a timeline for when I’ll be ready to sell.”
“All good, no problem,” she said, breezing right past everything I’d just said. “But how about this? I bring him by tomorrow. Just a walk-through. No pressure, no decisions. Fifteen minutes, tops. That way, I can give you a ballpark estimate, and he can see it for himself. If it’s not the right fit, he moves on. But if it is? He’s ready to make an offer. Cash. What do you say?”
“I’m still not selling right away,” I said, my tone flat. “Cash or no cash.”
“We can make arrangements. Happens all the time,” she chirped. “He buys, you stay for thirty days, ninety if you prefer. Flexible closings, stress-free transitions. Trust me. I’ve got your best interest in mind. Buyers like him? They don’t come around twice.”
My head was pounding. I kept hoping that every decision I made would lighten the load, just a little. That if I could check one more thing off the list, maybe I could breathe.
“Fine. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
We set the time. I ended the call and stepped inside, only to find Ocean standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed, her expression one of betrayed disbelief.
“You heard?” I asked quietly.
“Mom, we just got here. How could you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and ran upstairs, and seconds later, the sharp slam of her door vibrated through the house.
I stood there, the weight still pressing down. And Ocean wasn’t the only one I had to answer to. Somehow, I had to explain to Jo that tomorrow’s visit didn’t mean anything. That I was just trying to survive this moment. That I hadn’t decided. Not yet.
Chapter Twenty
Ocean
* * *
After storming upstairs, Ocean didn’t hear a single sound from downstairs for what felt like hours. So much for her epic temper tantrum. It clearly hadn’t made the impact she was going for.
Her mom usually wasn’t the type to just let things go. She liked to talk it out, explain her side, make sure Ocean explained hers. She wasn’t into punishments or groundings for dramatic effect. Not like Ivy’s parents. That just wasn’t her style.
Ocean knew she was stressed. She knew there was a lot on her mom’s plate. Still…the real estate agent was coming tomorrow. Her mom didn’t sound thrilled about it, but she wasn’t stopping it from happening, either. And they hadn’t even been here a full week. Her grandma wasn’t even buried yet. They hadn’t done any of the things Ocean thought they’d do. Not one.
Ocean had called out to Jo a couple of times after she went back to her room. Nothing. Not even a creaking floorboard. Jo had to know what was going on. How sad would it be, just floating around, watching a hundred years of family memories get packed up and disappear?
Jo didn’t really know her. Not like she’d known Skye. And now everything was changing so fast. If the house sold, new people would move in. Total strangers. What was Jo supposed to do, pop out of a wall and give them the full haunted house tour?
It must be weird, trying to explain your whole…afterlife to people who didn’t even know your name. She showed herself to Ocean, sure, but only because she was Skye’s kid.
Would she even bother with the next family?
While she was still stewing, Ivy called. They talked about nothing and everything. Ocean didn’t mention Jo. Not even once. She wasn’t ready to tell her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she ever would be.
At some point, her mom called upstairs to ask what she wanted for lunch. Ocean didn’t answer. Obviously. Then, like an hour later, the doorbell rang. She ran to her mom’s bedroom at the front of the house to peek. A delivery guy stood at the door with boxes of pizza. Plural. Like her mom had ordered the entire menu or something.
That almost made up for it.
Almost.
A few minutes later, the reason for all the extra food showed up. The same older guy Ocean had met downstairs walked in, followed by two others. Her age. Total bro-types. Handsome in that too-confident way. Boots, t-shirts, and baseball caps on backwards. They had that whole I lift heavy stuff for fun vibe. Definitely the kind of dudes her friend Ivy would be hot for.
Ocean bolted downstairs, grabbed a couple slices of pizza, and escaped before her mom could rope her into anything awkward. She was already in the living room, deep in conversation with the movers about hauling stuff out to the barn and keeping only Grandma’s things inside.
She spotted her, but Ocean made it back upstairs before a conversation could start. She still had to play mad.
The afternoon turned into a full-on frenzy. Ocean kept sneaking peeks through the windows, watching the movers carry boxes and furniture to the barn. She was glad her mom seemed to be holding onto things for now. She wasn’t done going through the boxes. Henry’s letters had been in one of them. Who knew what else she might find for Jo.
