Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
AVERY
Bert Harmon has accompanied Percy to Playgroup for the past two weeks. Two days after we returned from the conference, he showed up, mumbling something about Frieda needing to stay off her ankle and Josh being swamped at work, but the real reason is obvious to me. Neither of them wants to see me again. Which hurts, especially because I felt such a close bond with Mabel, and I fall further in love with Percy every time I see him.
It makes the end of Playgroup both easier and harder to face.
For better or worse, I’m truly swamped at work. The mayor and the school superintendent are both so excited about the aftercare idea that they want to push it through for the spring semester. Leia used the opportunity to get the funding approved for another program admin which has freed up some of my time, but I’m still spending every free moment setting up systems so families can sign up, interviewing part-time hires to supervise the teen workers and lead enrichment activities, working with the school transpo people to reroute buses and drivers, marketing the program, and fielding a bazillion questions.
It’s not easy, but it’s fulfilling.
As well as a good funnel for the anger-fueled energy buzzing through me. I’m not letting the shirt-for-brains doctor or that son of a biscuit Peter make me feel like shiitake mushrooms anymore. Instead, at Daisy’s suggestion, I’ve started a gratitude journal.
This morning, for instance, I’m grateful for the chance to live on my own for the first time in my life. My brother has secured a spot for my parents at a retirement community with on-site medical services as well as lots of social opportunities and a bus that drives them to both. A realtor friend of my sister’s is eager to put the house on the market and my siblings have deposited a chunk of money in my savings account that just might be enough for a deposit on a small house in Climax.
The realtor also got me preapproved for a loan, so I’ve been trolling the real estate websites, ready to pounce on anything that seems doable, and secretly hoping my grandparents’ old place will go up for sale.
Pressing send on the email that ticks off the final item of the morning’s to-do list, I click over to check on listings before I take my lunch break.
And my stomach drops. “What in the halibut?”
“You okay?” Carl Conrad asks from the doorway to my office. “You look like someone died.”
I just stare at the screen, trying to understand what I’m seeing.
He steps farther into the room. “Seriously, Avery. Should I call someone?” When I look up, he blanches. “Oh, no. Don’t cry.”
I swipe a hand across my face. “I’m not crying.”
“Okay, well. Just in case.” A blindingly white, pressed handkerchief appears in front of my face. “Take this.”
I take it but return my attention to the screen. “How…?”
“Are you sure you don’t, like, need anything?” Conrad asks, sounding like he really hopes I don’t.
“What I need is for this forking house to not be sold after being on the market for, like, ten minutes.” I’m so angry, the words feel like daggers coming out of my mouth, but it doesn’t stop me from shooting laser eyes at Conrad. Just because he’s standing there, not because I think our facilities manager can fix this problem. “Can you do something about that?”
“Um. Well, maybe.”
Shocked at his answer, I just blink at him. “Really?”
“Lemme see the listing.”
I turn my laptop around and he stoops to look at it, his large hands looking too big for the mousepad as he scrolls. “Hmm. Old house. That’s good.”
“Why?”
“How much you want this place?”
“More than anything.”
He nods. “Gimme ten minutes.”
I’m not sure if he really takes ten minutes, but when I look up from the computer again, he hands me a sealed envelope, saying, “It’s in escrow, so the buyer can still back out. The inspector is at the house this afternoon, so hightail it over there and give this to him. He’ll know what to do.”
“What will he do?”
“Find a reason why the buyer should back out. Roots eating away the sewer main or mold in the walls.” Conrad points at me, his expression serious. “We don’t like to use this option unless it’s an emergency but… gotta keep the sharks away from our homes somehow.”
My curiosity is piqued, but I want my house more than I want intel, so I jump to my feet, grab my purse, and throw my arms around him. Or most of the way around, since I can’t quite reach. “Thank you, Connie!”
He pats me awkwardly on the back. “All right, then. Go get your house.”