Page 13 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Dominique frowned. “Yeah, but what now? Are you really going to try and fix this place up yourself? Now that all the stuff is out, it shows the total picture.”

I sighed, staring at the house. The peeling paint, the sagging gutters—it all screamed overwhelming. “I don’t know where to start,” I admitted. “Dad didn’t have much in savings, but what he did have is in my name already. At least I don’t have to deal with probate. That’s one blessing.”

“Lucky break,” Lucia said. “But even with that, can you afford to fix it up? This house needs a lot of work.”

“I don’t want to sell it,” I said firmly. “I’d rather fix it up and rent it out. It could be a nice home for a family. One day, I might want to come back here.”

Lucia and Dominique exchanged a look. “You know it’s a lot of work to manage a property, especially when you live in Miami, right?” Lucia asked carefully. “Rentals are a pain in the ass.”

“I know,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “But selling it would crush me. This house is all I have left of him.”

They didn’t argue, though I could see the doubt in their eyes. “When does your boss expect you back?”

“Valentine’s Day,” I replied. “He gave me a month off. No questions asked. I got lucky.”

Dominique sighed. “I wish I could stay longer, but I have to fly out tomorrow. Work is calling.”

“Same here,” Lucia added. “I’ve got a couple more days, but then I’m out. I’ll come back next weekend if you need me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said quickly. “I can’t disrupt your lives. I am so grateful you came at all. I don’t think I could have gotten through the funeral without you. I thought I was ready. I thought I was done crying. Thank you so much for being there for me.”

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “Who are you going to depend on if not us?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “I’ll be fine. I have people here. My dad has friends. I’m sure they’ll want to help.”

“Like who?” Dominique pressed, her tone teasing but laced with curiosity.

“Just… people,” I said vaguely, trying to sound convincing. Their skepticism was obvious, but they let me off the hook. “If I need you, I’ll call. Deal?”

“Deal,” they said reluctantly, though Dominique still looked like she wanted to argue.

Later, we ordered takeout and sat on the living room floor—with no furniture left in the house—eating and chatting like we used to in college. The house felt eerily empty, the walls bare, but their company made it bearable.

“Where are you staying?” Lucia asked between bites of her burger. “Are you going to keep staying in the hotel? That’s going to get expensive.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Tomorrow, I’m going to buy a blowup mattress and a few essentials. I’ll stay here while I work on the house.”

Dominique shuddered visibly. “Alone?”

“It’s not that bad,” Lucia said pointedly.

“I didn’t say anything!” Dominique protested.

“You might as well have,” Lucia shot back.

Dominique rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you’d stay here alone for a month?”

Lucia scrunched her nose. “I didn’t say that.”

They made me laugh. “Guys, I’m trying not to be insulted. I grew up in the house you two are horrified by.”

They grinned at me. For a moment, everything felt normal again. But the moment passed too quickly, and reality crept back in as the evening wound down.

We all headed back to the hotel. It would be my last night in a clean, comfy bed. I couldn’t justify spending two hundred dollars a night on a room when I was going to be putting every penny I had toward fixing the house up. Tomorrow, I would give it a good scrubbing and it wouldn’t be so bad. It would be weird sleeping in the place, but maybe it was time I faced the ghosts of my past.

7

KANNON