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“This is a mistake,” Dad says through gritted teeth.

“It’s not.” Mr. Marx shakes his head, his serious persona in full force.

Dad jumps to his feet, tipping his chair over in the process. Then, leaning over the table, he plants both his fists on the wooden top. “It must be. My mother hardly knew Olivia.” He snatches the form from Mr. Marx—the same pages that sit in front of him—and scans over Marx’s copy. “This is ridiculous.”

“Would you like to contest?”

Dad’s teeth grind together, and he growls out a mutter that sounds a lot like “It’s not worth the trouble.”

I stare at the page until my eyes begin to water, my own name coming in and out of focus. “Why would she leave me so much?” I can’t imagine I meant anything to her. Yet, she has left me almost all her possessions.

Seven

“The insanity. Could this day get any more ludicrous?” Dad mumbles to himself all the way through the Irma and out to the car. “Why on earth my mother would leave you—ahh! Ridiculous!”

I shuffle after him, pinching my lips closed to keep silent.

Still ranting, he climbs into the driver’s seat of our rental car.

I stand outside the vehicle, filling my lungs with fresh air, trying to make sense of it all. Amelia wanted me to have her home. Why? And my father hates the idea—another thing I don’t understand.

Dad leans over my seat and opens the passenger’s side door. “Olivia,” he growls. “Get in.”

Afraid to test his mood, I file into the car. Dad’s cheeks are beet red. Every wrinkle that ever thought of assaulting his face is present. With both of his hands wringing the wheel, he stares out the front windshield, his eyes crazed. “Why didn’t she give the old shack to Earl’s kids? Why my daughter? Why!” he yells, slamming his hands against the steering wheel.

I turn in my seat to stare at him. “What is wrong with you?” My words come out breathy. I’ve been quiet long enough though.

He’s behaving like a child, and I can’t watch anymore. He’s throwing a fit over Amelia giving me a gift. Sure, I am just as confused by it as he is, but I’m also deeply touched. Why does it make him so angry?

“What’s wrong with me?” My very-together father suddenly looks as if he has lost it. All of his sanity is out the window. “I had to rearrange my schedule to come here—for two days. If you are the rightful owner of that hovel, then we’re in charge of what’s inside. Not to mention, power bills, gas bills, water bills… understand now?”

My throat tightens, and I can’t form any words. He is ruining this moment for me.

“We’ll have to hire someone to clear out the place, get rid of all the junk inside, find a realtor, not to mention someone crazy enough to buy it.” His knuckles go white around the steering wheel. “She gave Earl all her money. This gift is going to cost me a plethora. A plethora!”

My face goes hot. Not only has he ruined the moment, but he is destroying the whole sweet sentiment. “The hovel is mine.” I clench my fists until my nails cut into my palms. “It will cost you nothing.”

“Right,” he scoffs. Dad speeds down the highway, not seeming to notice how serious I am. “You’re acting like a child. You, Olivia. You didn’t act like a child even when you were one. You read books beyond your years and understood things you shouldn’t as a youth. So, why can’t you see that this is not a gift?”

I say nothing. I cross my arms and swallow down everything I want to say. If I speak now, I’ll be jumbled, flustered, and easy to dispute.

The ride goes by fast, quicker than it did on the way over. My mind races, forming a plan. I can’t let this go—this is a crossroads, and I need to choose the right path. I wait until we’ve entered Rendezvous, then, with my voice calm and my hands in my lap, I say, “Take me to Amelia’s house, please.”

“Excuse me?” His brows lower and I see in my peripheral that he looks my way.

Without deviating from my focal point, I chant in my mind, I am an adult. “I’ll be staying there tonight,” I say confidently, then add a little more force to my tone. “Alone.”

His lips curl into a snarl. “Impossible.”

I face him now, holding up the key Mr. Marx gave to me. “Very possible. Please take me to Amelia’s.” I clear my throat and continue with the demand. “I am an adult. And very much the legal owner of 32 Meeteetse Road.”

“Fine.” Like a chameleon, Dad’s face changes from red to purple with one single word. I have officially broken my father.

He stops the car in front of Amelia’s little brown house, staring ahead, refusing to look at me. I open my door and step out, peering up at the big elm tree separating Amelia’s house from her neighbors. It seems to wave hello and welcome me home. I open the back passenger door and snatch up my bag. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, shutting the car door behind me. In this moment, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care what my father thinks of me. He can think I’m crazy. Amelia’s house is calling me home.

Heart racing, I step up to the front door, ready to be alone with Amelia’s floorboards. With Amelia’s secrets. I’m ready to learn what she hid all those years ago.

Eight