9. Jake #4
“But it’s all in Empire. It probably nets out at less than he paid for it, especially since a lot of it hasn’t been maintained.
He might be in line for worst landlord of the year, except he had no tenants.
It’s all sitting empty. Slowly rotting away.
” The very idea gives me pain. To let assets lose their value for no reason is the most asinine practice I can imagine and the stupidest way possible to manage a portfolio.
“Why did he even buy so many properties?”
In a way, that is the million dollar question. My father is proving to be a lot less predictable than I’d ever imagined. “No clue. I think he just liked having everything himself.”
Madison frowns at the road ahead. The windshield wipers are at top speed and it’s making little difference. Really, it’s raining hard enough that we should consider the merit of building an ark. “There are people who think he destroyed the town.”
“I’d be inclined to agree with them. And hey, the jokes on him, as his real estate collection is worth less money than when he bought it, partly thanks to the regional economy, which he worsened.” I shake my head. “But Luke offered to buy one house. Maybe there will be other interest, too.”
“Daphne and Luke are moving?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” I had forgotten how quickly news travels in a small town. I was just talking, but I could be giving away secrets.
“Then why would he buy another house? I thought they were getting married.”
Oh boy. “It is so not my business.”
She stops at a traffic light, a sign that we’re on the cusp of civilization, and takes advantage of that to give me a hard look. “Daphne is my friend. You can’t tell me half of the story.”
I lift a finger. “If I tell you, it goes no further.”
“If it’s about Daphne and Luke, you can bet it will go further.”
“It’s not.”
She eyes me. “Can I hear it before I decide?”
“No. You have to promise first.”
“You mean I have to trust you, or at least trust that your assessment will be the same as mine.” She shakes her head and puts the car into gear again. The light is green and hers is the only vehicle at the intersection. “All right.”
“It’s for Abbie,” I say and her relief is tangible. “Luke wants Abbie to have her grandmother’s house, but Patrick wouldn’t sell it to him when Luke asked. He thinks Abbie might come back to town if she had a place of her own.”
“Especially that place. She loves Margaret’s house.”
How did I not remember that? It’s just another one of those details about our childhood in Empire that have been lost in my desire to forget.
In fact, I don’t remember Margaret’s house that well, beyond the fact that it was my grandmother’s place and different from ours. Pretty. A little old-fashioned.
I look out the window and remember Abbie helping in the garden there.
That memory comes out of nowhere, along with the recollection that our grandmother had the most beautiful flower gardens around her house.
I caught my first frog there, I think. Abbie loved to help out, even when she was really little.
It’s a sweet memory, so sweet that I’m astonished there’s a single moment in my life suitable for a greeting card.
I think of the greenhouses and my agreement to be Mike’s money guy, then the estate and its lack of money, as well as my siblings’ expectations, and for a moment, I feel overwhelmed by the sudden influx of responsibilities that have landed on my To Do list in the past few days.
“A friend of mine from high school is a real estate agent here in Havelock,” Mackenzie says. “She sells most of the houses in Empire that do sell. Oh, wait, do you remember Paula duBois?”
I blink because I do. “Volleyball team. Dark hair.”
Mackenzie laughs. “You do remember things about Empire after all.” I look at her in shock. “I’ll give you her number. She could value the house for you.”
“That would be very helpful. Thanks, Mackenzie.”
“And here we are.” She pulls into a parking lot, then backs into a spot with ease. There’s a warm glow coming from the windows of the restaurant, and I can almost smell the garlic. My stomach grumbles a little, right on time.
It is still pouring.
“This is an official topic transition,” I say and she laughs.
“Agreed.”
“Do you have an umbrella?”
“Just there.” She reaches into the back seat, but I beat her to it, claiming the umbrella with one hand.
“Wait right there,” I say, then get out. I come around to her side, the umbrella open overhead, and am treated to a smile bright enough to light up all of Empire.
“All this and a gentleman, too,” she teases, swinging her legs out of the car.
She’s wearing a black floral dress that swirls around her legs, and they’re just as great as I remember.
She slides out of the car and takes my arm, standing so close beside me that I can almost feel her curves.
I get a sweet waft of her perfume, delicate and feminine, which sends a jolt to my toes.
I slam the driver’s door and she locks it up.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers mischievously as we head to the front door. “That secret’s safe with me.”