Page 131 of The Fed Sex Man

I swallowed hard once again, and then looked at Tyson. “What about. What about the radon gas?”

My father chuckled. “You might be overly cautious on some things, but you were gullible as hell on that one, Kidd-o.”

My eyes shot to my father. “What are you—”

He smiled. “There was no radon gas.”

“But Tyson got sick,” I said. “You drove to the hospital and picked him up.”

“Tyson got sick of listening to you whine.” He chuckled. “That’s the only sickness he had. I picked him up from meeting the contractors, not at the damned hospital.”

I looked at my mother. “Did you know?”

“Sweetheart, I’m afraid I did.”

“Mother!”

“Well,” Jarod said. “I feel like the odd man out. I didn’t know anything.”

“How come there’s a For Sale sign in the yard?” I asked.

Tyson raised his hand to his chin. “Can’t decide whether to sell the thing or keep it.”

I reached into my purse, pulled out my keys, and marched up the drive. After reaching the front door, I poked my key into a very familiar tarnished brass lock. After turning it, I let out a sigh and pushed open the door.

Nothing about the home was the same.

Nothing.

The beiges and browns were gone.

Grays and whites had replaced them. The kitchen’s oak cabinets had been replaced by a long line of tall white ones.

Formica countertops had been replaced by white quartz.

Carpet had been replaced by wide planks of gray hardwood.

The home looked like something out of the magazines I spent hours studying before I remodeled my own home. The only thing I could see that I didn’t like was that the kitchen had no stove.

Tyson stepped to my side. “Well?”

“Why doesn’t the kitchen have a stove?”

“I thought if you decided you liked this place, we’d bring yours over. It makes the best breakfast in the entire state of Texas.”

I pointed over my shoulder. “Go get that sign out of my yard, kind Sir.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Your yard?”

“My apologies.” She smiled and gave me a kiss. “Our yard.”