“Could you please not mention it until I have a chance to?”
Miss Betty waved her hand impatiently. “As if I’d tell her something like that. We have far bigger fish to fry. Devon, so good to see you!”
I turned to see that Devon had joined us. “Miss Betty! To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you at my niece and nephew’s birthday party?”
“I’ve known those two since before they were born,” Miss Betty said. “I’m an honorary grandmother. I’ve been meaning to tell you what I learned about the Town Council, but I haven’t seen you in a few days.”
Devon stilled. “What did you learn?”
Miss Betty looked at her steadily. “They passed a residency requirement.”
“Residency requirement?” Devon blinked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“That old biddy Withers is behind it, I’m sure of it.”
“But what is it?” Devon pressed.
“Houses that are on the official historical registry, like yours—”
“Like Gigi’s—” Devon corrected.
My throat grew tight while Miss Betty gave an assenting nod. “Like your Gigi’s must be continuously occupied by their owners or it’ll be donated to the historical society.”
I drew closer to Devon as she went quiet. “So you’re saying…”
“The only way Devon keeps the house is if she lives in it,” Miss Betty finished.
“Permanently?” Devon asked. “Forever?”
The flare of hope I’d had just moments ago vanished as I watched Devon shrink in on herself. I wrapped an arm around her and led her a few steps to a folding chair in the shade of the house. Miss Betty followed.
“What about family? Can it be family?” Devon asked. She was clutching at straws, and my stomach turned in on itself.
“I don’t know yet. But it went into effect on the fifteenth, so it’s done,” Miss Betty said.
“What?” I said, my tone a little sharper than I intended. “Shouldn’t they have been a bit more proactive about letting the public know and allowing a comment period? Isn’t that normal?”
“Not with Mrs. Withers at the helm,” Devon said bitterly.
“Get up,” Miss Betty said. “Let’s walk. You’ll feel better.”
Devon stood and let herself be guided away, and I watched gloomily.
I don’t know what I expected, honestly. She’d come here expecting to stay the six months her grandmother’s will required, and walked straight into a disaster of a house where one thing after another was breaking down. And now the Town Council had cooked this up. Part of me wanted to ask why the residency requirement was such a bad thing in the first place: if she didn’t want to stay, then why was the Council taking it over a bad thing? But the other part was blindly cheering for Team Devon, so whatever needed to happen, is what needed to happen.
I drank the rest of my beer and felt a buzz in my back pocket. I pulled my phone out to read the text.
Unknown:
Sorry to do this, boys, but I can’t come next week. Something’s come up, you know how it is.
I stared at the words. I wanted Will or Price to ask her for a reason, but she wouldn’t give one. She never did. I’d been a teenager the one and only time I’d pushed her for a reason. She’d looked at me, her eyes dulled, and said, “I don’t owe you anything.”
Cured me from asking that again.
I looked back at the screen. God, what an idiot I’d been. To think that for a second this past week, the absolute tiniest of seconds as I’d lain in bed with Devon in my arms, I’d actually allowed myself to wonder what it might be like to have dinner with her and my brothers. The four of us around a dinner table, sharing stories. Telling her about Devon. Feeling what it might be like to have my mother smile at me.
Making the bet with my brothers that she wouldn’t show up was never something I wanted to be right about, but here we were. Again. Was it terrible to feel good that she was breaking her promise in a group text? So at least I knew it wasn’t just me she was avoiding.
Another text came in, this time on the Brothers Only group chat.
Will
I don’t want to hear it from you, Aaron.
I looked at his message, considering my words. Finally, I answered.
There’s nothing to say.
Because honestly? There wasn’t. It was my mother, proving once again that whatever else was going on in her life was more important than her sons. I didn’t even know what she did or where she lived, only that it mattered more than me.
Another text. I sighed. It was from Price to me.
Price
Give him some time.
Are you kidding me?
