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Of course it was.
Chapter 8
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Charlotte asked Bree for about the nineteenth time in the last two days. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm absolutely one hundred percent sure." Bree held a potted plant in her hand in the hallway of Granny's house. She was almost done moving all of her stuff to the house on Evergreen.
Abby pushed her hair out of her eyes and sat on the chair she had been carrying. "Not everyone needs to know someone for eight hundred years like you and Will did. Most people figure it out a little sooner."
Charlotte stuck her tongue out at Abby. "It was more like eight years, not eight hundred."
"Bad enough. Bree can't wait eight years. She'll be old by then."
Bree smacked Abby's arm. "Thanks. But no, I'm not waiting. Ian and I are starting our life together now."
"I just want you to be happy."
Bree smiled. "I am."
"I can't believe someone else owns this house now," Abby said, her expression sad as she glanced around the empty front rooms.
Bree reached out and squeezed Abby's shoulder. "I know. Me either." It was the only sad spot in a bright future. She was going to miss the house, miss the memories that could be found around every corner. But somehow she knew this was her grandmother's way of telling her that it was time for a new phase in her life.
"Hey, look, Akasha left that mistletoe bunch on the floor." Charlotte pointed to the corner of the living room, by the fireplace. "We should probably grab that."
Bree stared at the mistletoe and smiled. "Nah. I think we should leave that for Darius Damiano. It sounds like he could use a little love in his life."
Abby scoffed. "Or someone smacking him upside the head."
"You're not talking about me, are you?" Ian appeared in the doorway, Will behind him.
Bree smiled. "No, we're just insulting Darius Damiano."
"Fair enough," Ian said.
"What else needs to go out?" Will asked, ever the efficient and brawny cop.
"This chair," Abby said, still sitting on it.
"Well, I guess you need to get out of it then, Squirt."
Bree would have expected Abby to make a smart-ass remark back to Will, but instead she just stared into the parlor. Then she said, "I'm going to live in this house, Bree. I just saw it. I'm older, and I live here. With a dude."
Bree wanted to dismiss it as Abby's melancholy over losing the house, but she remembered Abby's prediction about Ian, and she had to trust it. Or at least that it was a possibi
lity. "I can see that, Abby."
Ian came over and whispered in her ear, "I love you. And I can't wait to debauch you in our new, freshly painted, remodeled house."
Bree turned slightly and kissed his cheek. "I love you, too. And I love the debauching in case you hadn't noticed."
"Oh, I've noticed."
Bree was wondering if they could get rid of everyone else for one last romp in the house, when her brother-in-law called over to them.
"Hey, Ian, give me a hand. Let's get the show on the road." Will was bent over, hands under the seat of the chair Abby was sitting in.
Ian went over and together they lifted the chair and carried a squealing Abby toward the front door. Charlotte hooked her arm through Bree's. "You okay?"
"I'm great." She had her sisters, her brother-in-law, a man she loved, a new house.
