24 McKenna #2
“Tell me.” I’m relieved to hear his enthusiasm. I don’t have room in my brain for any more negativity.
“The buyers I told you about, the young family? They just put in an offer at almost ninety thousand dollars over asking!”
I stop in my tracks, blocking the entrance to the store. “What? Why?!” Ninety thousand dollars is almost twenty percent more
profit than I was expecting. With that kind of money, I’d have enough for Glory’s extra care and even some left over.
“They loved the house, and they don’t want to risk losing it to someone else.”
My chest fills with warmth thinking about a young family moving into the house. It softens the blow of having to leave, and
I actually feel excited. That house isn’t just the place where my grandparents raised my mother. It’s also where Glory brought
me back to life after we lost Mom, where she taught me to be resilient and to hold on to hope. The idea of another family
creating happy memories in the place that sheltered my own family so well makes it feel bearable, even kind of right.
“That’s amazing. Tell them I accept the offer. Tell them yes!”
“There’s just one catch. One change they conditioned the deal on,” Bobby hedges.
“It’s fine,” I say, laughing with relief. “Whatever they’re asking for, they can have it.”
“They want to take possession in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” I balk. That’s no time at all. “But it’ll still be summer in two weeks.” I have very specifically told Bobby
that I need to stay in the house until the school year starts again, when I can move back to the dorms.
“Right, I know, but it’s just a few weeks’ difference. Surely you can figure something out. Use some of the profit to rent
an apartment for the month if you have to. You’ll certainly be collecting enough to do that.”
He’s right that it’s a huge profit, enough to cover so many different possibilities, and I’d be crazy to pass it up. I could
probably stay with Lark and Rae for those few weeks, splitting the time between them so I don’t drive either of them too crazy.
There’s no reason to waste the proceeds on renting a place when it’ll be such a short time. The situation is not ideal, but
I really can’t argue with an extra ninety thousand dollars.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I say. “Let’s close this deal!”
Twelve days later, I’m standing in the middle of Glory’s front yard with the last remaining items from the house scattered all around me.
Small items like lamps and vases sit on plastic tables, while a couple of larger pieces remain in the driveway.
There are the bookshelves from the den, where Glory kept her collection of gardening books, and a paisley loveseat, which probably wasn’t even cool when Glory and Grandpa bought it a million years ago.
The yellow paper tickets we affixed to each item wave in the afternoon’s light breeze, as if each piece is calling out to be chosen, carried away to another home to be loved.
It makes me think of that line from Grey’s Anatomy: “Pick me, choose me, love me!”
Lark and Amber are sitting at the folding table we’ve set up as a makeshift checkout counter. Rae and Anya are helping a heavyset
man as he ties Glory’s chestnut dining table to the roof of his car.
I feel like a tennis ball is lodged inside my throat as I watch them finish up, one more piece of my childhood on its way
to disappearing. When Rae suggested I sell off Glory’s belongings, I was initially reluctant, but it didn’t take long for
me to realize how wasteful and expensive it would be to store all her things when nobody would be using them. Who knows how
long it’ll be before I have a home of my own, not to mention whether I’ll even want her things by then. Rae recruited Amber
to organize the sale, and before I knew it, more than half of my teammates were rallying around me, demanding to get involved.
With so many girls willing to help, the idea of a last-minute yard sale suddenly seemed manageable, maybe even a no-brainer.
Even so, as I watch the man and his little girl drive away with Glory’s table on their roof, it’s hard not to weep.
“Okay, ladies,” Rae says, bounding back toward me. “Let’s see if we can off-load these ceramic dishes on the next folks who
show. Even if you sell them at ten cents apiece.”
Everything I’ve grown up with has somehow become almost worthless, and it’s nothing short of heartbreaking. Rae notices the expression on my face and says, “Oh, sweetie, I know it’s rough. Why don’t you go sit with Lark and count the money? Money makes everyone feel better.”
I laugh lightly at her words as another car approaches the house. When the vehicle comes to a stop along the curb, I realize
it’s Leo and his mom. I feel a little burst of joy at the sight of Leo’s face through the window. I suppose I’ve been missing
his frank questions and deadpan responses more than I realized.
His mom climbs out from the driver’s side and searches the scene in front of her. She’s dressed in denim shorts and a pale
blue tank top, with a bunch of dangly necklaces hanging to the middle of her chest. She’s pretty in a relaxed way, like she
doesn’t have to try at all, and I’m suddenly a little embarrassed. I imagine what the yard must look like through her eyes.
Enough buyers have come through today that what’s left on display is meager and disjointed. Dishes and nightstands are strewn
about the lawn, throw pillows and a few framed watercolors, everything now in disarray. My friends and I have been out in
the hot sun for the last three hours, and we’re all disheveled, ponytails crooked and sweat marks on our t-shirts. It’s an
awkward way to meet Leo and Beck’s mom for the first time.
She must already think I’m a screwup for the way I let the swim lessons deteriorate. I can’t remember feeling this self-conscious
in a long time, and I wish I could hide before his mom lays eyes on me.
But then I notice the expression on Berry’s face—how she looks a little out of sorts too.
Leo has just emerged from the passenger side of the car and is saying something to her, but her eyes are vacant as if she doesn’t even know where she is.
I remember something my mom used to tell me when she was sick, that we had to keep in mind we weren’t the only people struggling, and so we had better always be kind.
Whatever Leo’s mom is struggling with, it’s not my business. But I wonder.
I make my way over to the car and wave a hand at Leo. He doesn’t wave back as the two of them come forward to greet me at
the edge of the yard.
His mom speaks first.
“Forgive us for showing up unannounced,” she says. “Harrison mentioned you were having a garage sale, and Leo, well, I suppose
he wanted to come see his friend in action.” She glances at the slim pickings behind me. “Looks like you’ve been making out
like a bandit, huh?”
“I’m so glad you guys came. It’s great to finally meet you in person, Mrs. Becker.”
“Please, call me Berry or I’ll feel a million years old.”
“I’ve never been to a garage sale,” Leo says, looking toward the house behind me. “But this house doesn’t have a garage.”
I smile. “Well, you don’t really need a garage. It’s just what people call it when they sell their personal belongings and
housewares from right outside their homes. You could call it a yard sale or a tag sale too. The phrases and expressions people
use don’t always make perfect sense, but we just try to get used to them anyway.”
“Yes, exactly,” Berry says as she appraises me.
Leo nods and starts looking around at the items on display.
“But why would people buy any of this?” he asks. “I wouldn’t want any of these things. It looks like a bunch of old junk.”
“Leo!” Berry admonishes him. “It’s not nice to say negative things about other people’s belongings.”
“No, Berry, it’s fine.” I smile, and since Leo might not understand the facial cue, I clarify.
“I kind of agree with you, Leo. All the nicest things sold pretty quickly. I don’t think anyone’s going to want what’s left.
These items are probably only special to me now, but I don’t have any use for them anymore.
” We all survey the yard for a moment longer, and the vibe feels so somber I can hardly bear it.
Forcing cheer into my voice, I say, “But come, meet my friends.”
I reach out for Leo’s arm to bring him over to where Lark and Amber are sitting, but he jerks away before I make contact.
“Sorry, Leo. I forgot myself.”
Before he can respond, Rae comes bounding over.
“Is this the all-time famous and epic Leo?” she asks, and I’m reminded of how Beck called me famous when we met too.
“I’m not famous,” Leo says in his monotone cadence.
Rae doesn’t skip a beat. “But you are Leo, aren’t you?”
“Epic Leo,” he says with a little lift of his lip. “I like that.”
Berry has stepped a few feet away from us, and I can tell she’s trying to give Leo space to interact without her hovering.
Something about her feigned disinterest makes me miss my mom so fiercely in that moment. I glance over at my friends, who
are all calling out to Leo to come introduce himself, and I remind myself again that family can come in many different forms.
With these girls in my corner, I still have something special.
“Come on, epic Leo,” I say. “Let me introduce you to the others.”