Just One Day Part 12

Chapter One.

There is a distinct moment when you know that your day has gone down the toilet. Mine was before lunch, and after my fourth cup of coffee, when an unexpected knock on my front door brought me face-to-face with my ex-husband.

Not that he was a horrible troll, or lying in wait to machete me in a weak moment, but he just wasn't one to drop by and say h.e.l.lo. Which was good with me. Child support and visitations came to a legal end three years prior, so daddy-pickups were off the table. I stood in the doorway, wondering who died as I ran a hand through my unbrushed hair and then crossed my arms over my chest to disguise the no-bra action I had going on.

He gave me a once-over and frowned. "Are you sick?"

I started to protest that not having to get dressed was a perk of working from home, that until someone wanted to look at a house, talking to potential clients on the phone didn't require me to brush my hair or put on shoes. But I didn't feel like having that long a conversation with him. So I fake-coughed into my hand.

"Little bit. What's up?"

He shrugged. "I was wondering how much she's selling it for."

I blinked a few times, thinking I'd missed something. "Um-she, who?"

He tilted his head with widened eyes like he was humoring me. "Your mother?"

I opened my mouth but then just air came out. Maybe it was the coffee. Maybe I needed to eat something, or go for a walk. Use the treadmill that was collecting dust in a corner of my office.

I shook my head. "I-I give up, Kevin. What about my mother?"

"Her house, Emily," he said, impatience lacing his tone. "How much is she selling the house for?"

I laughed then, which I knew would p.i.s.s him off. "Selling her house? What kind of crack are you smoking?"

My mother would sooner sell one of us than sell that house. She and my dad lived in it their whole married life. Raised two kids there, multiple dogs, a couple of birds, and I think there was even a brief stint with a ferret. She didn't leave after my dad died in the living room, and if anything could have shoved her out, it would be that.

Kevin's dark blue eyes glazed over at my comment. He held his hands up in front of him and shook his head as he turned. "Never mind. I forgot how crazy y'all are."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," I said, still laughing. "What are you babbling about?"

He took the steps two at a time, and waved a hand behind him. "Never mind, Em, I'll just call Dedra. Although why it's listed with her beats the s.h.i.t out of me."

I felt my smile start to fade, and stick at the confusion point. Something was off. Something didn't make sense. Starting with him saying that sentence.

"Dedra?" I said. "What are you talking about?" My tone combined with her name was enough to tweak his attention because it turned him around. His expression changed to wary and unsure.

"Your mom's house? Her name's on the sign." He looked uncomfortable and pointed randomly at the air behind him as if to prove it. "I had nothing to do with it. I pa.s.sed it this morning on my way out."

Another leftover piece of a laugh kind of popped out, but with much less confidence. I shook my head as I turned and walked away, knowing he'd follow me in.

"That's crazy," I said. "Has to be a joke or something. I just had lunch with my mom last week, I mean, come on. Don't you think she'd have mentioned that? She talked about her garden."

I landed back on the squeaky swivel chair in my office, as Kevin found a spot on the couch among scattered manila folders. He moved a few aside, turning one over to read the name.

"829 Montgomery-why does that sound familiar?" he asked.

"It's one street over from my mom's," I said, clicking through the links that would bring me to the multiple listing database. "And quit snooping, it's not listed yet."

"Oh yeah. The Landry place," he said, and I ignored the snide change of tone.

"Yep."

"Bobby's finally unloading it, huh?"

I blinked and sighed and continued to ignore the shiny object he was dangling to get a rise out of me. "Guess so."

"About time," Kevin continued. "It's been one strong breeze away from blowing over for years."

"Oh, it's not that bad," I said, scoffing. "Just needs a little attention. Vacant houses get that way."

"Well, I don't blame him," he said. "Ben left him high and dry with that place when their mom died. Never even came back for the funeral."

The old dig that used to stab me, barely felt like a pin p.r.i.c.k. "You don't know that."

"And you do?"

I cut my eyes at him. "This town can make a lot of noise when it wants to. You believe everything you hear?"

Kevin tossed the file over with the others, and I was grateful for the change. I watched him take in the overflowing bookshelf, the three different-colored jackets hanging on the treadmill, the row of file boxes stacked against one wall.

"I a.s.sume there's a method, as usual?" he asked.

"Ha ha, very cute."

In our thirteen years of marriage, he never learned to appreciate my version of decor or organization. Kevin preferred empty s.p.a.ce. Like moving into a house with no stuff, kind of empty. No pictures, no decorations, no curtains, no coasters or vases or magazines. Give him a chair and a rug and a TV and he's good. In fact, the rug would probably be pushing it.

"So, dating anybody?" he asked.

I hit a b.u.t.ton and gave him a look. "Really?"

His face went all innocent. "What?"

Kevin was a very good-looking man, as long as you never had to have a real conversation with him, or a life. The pretty wore thin with the constant perfection and micro-managing.

"You really want to know about my love life?"

He looked away with a smile. "I want you to be happy, Em."

I coughed again, this time for real. "So, what's the deal?" I asked, changing the subject as I waited for the zip code filter to update. "You looking to move again? Sherry want to simplify and rub elbows with the common folk?"

He gave me a look and leaned back, his brown leather jacket making noise against the wanna-be leather of my couch. "I'm thinking about buying some rental property."

"Ah, you want to be a land baron, now."

"It's easy money," he said with a shrug.

"Not with old houses like-"

My words died on my tongue as the page populated, and there it was. Three listings down. A familiar address and equally familiar picture of my mother's house. Listed by Dedra Powers.

"You've gotta be s.h.i.tting me," I said under my breath, and I heard Kevin and his jacket sit forward.

"So, how much is it listed for?"

I tore my eyes from the screen to glare at him. "Seriously?"

He lifted a hand. "What?"

I swiveled around in my chair to find my phone, and leapt up to grab it off the top of my treadmill, hitting speed dial number two. Three rings led to voice mail, and my mother's voice telling me how sorry she was that she couldn't answer my call.

"Mom!" I yelled, then bit my lip and let my mouth work for a second. "Mom?" I tried again. "Please call me."

I hung up and stared at the listing again as I hit speed dial numbers one and three, both of which went to voice mail as well. "Jesus, where is everybody today?" I muttered as I tossed the phone to the couch next to Kevin and smiled not-so-patiently at him.

"I've gotta go change clothes and-interrogate my mother," I said. "So-" I did a little hand flourish that I felt encouraged his exit.

"You didn't know."

"That's pretty clear," I said, not enjoying his smirk.

He stood up and leaned over to view the page on my laptop, which I then flipped closed.

"Ninety thousand," he said, narrowing his eyes in that financial thinker's expression of his, and I shook my head before another second could pa.s.s.

"No."

He blinked and met my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, no," I said. "I don't know what's going on with this, but regardless, you aren't buying it."

"Why not?"

My head was spinning. I wanted answers and I wanted Kevin to be gone so I could go find them.

"Because." He tilted his head again, and I made a sound of disgust. "G.o.d, you look like such a girl when you do that. Stop it."

"You aren't answering my question."

"And I'm not going to right now," I said, taking him by the arm and walking. "Come on. I have to leave. I have to get naked first. And unless Sherry-bom-berry is okay with that, you probably shouldn't be here when I do."

We made it to the door and I pushed him gently out. Just as he turned back around, "Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know if Ca.s.sidy sent in any of those business school applications yet?"

I sighed as I slowly guided the door closed. "She's twenty-one, Kevin. She's across town and doesn't run her day by me anymore. Call her."

"I have, and she doesn't call me back."

Shocking. "Gotta go."

I felt a dull headache forming behind my eyes as I rounded the block to a house I could find blindfolded and drunk-not that I knew that-and saw my sister's car snuggled right up behind my mom's. My gaze went from there to the FOR SALE sign looming gaudily on one side of the sidewalk, and instantly went hot over the prospect that my sister, Holly, was in on it. Of course she would be. First to arrive, last to leave, always doing the right thing, always there for my mom, always the suck-up.

FOR SALE. By realtor, Dedra Powers.

I pulled up alongside the ditch, and took a series of cleansing breaths on my way up the uneven sidewalk and concrete porch. I will not raise my voice . . . I will not raise my voice . . .

I'd called my daughter for backup, but I wasn't sure how fast she would get there. She kind of laughed when I told her that Nana had lost her mind. I don't think she truly got the urgency of the situation.

When I opened the heavy wooden door with the fifteen-pound metal door knocker, the knocker bounced loudly like it always did with the momentum, announcing door movement to the entire neighborhood. It announced it to Tandy, as well. Her ancient Dachshund with a smoker's bark and a long-lost sense of smell came in a blaze of glory ready to take out my shins until she saw it was me and backtracked to her beanbag chair, uninterested.

I steeled myself for the confrontation when I saw my mom and sister sitting at the elongated bar that served as the dining room table, but faltered a little when they looked my way and I saw the anxiety in my sister's eyes.

My volatile words kind of died on my lips and came out instead as, "So, this is new."

My mom sighed, and my sister just shook her head. Suddenly, I had the impression maybe they hadn't been in on it together. Holly had that fired-up look going that her red hair just amplified.

"You didn't know, either, I take it?" Holly asked.

I smiled. "No, I just found out from my ex."

"Oh s.h.i.t," Holly said under her breath.

I zeroed in on Mom. "Yeah. Care to know how wrong that conversation was?"

"Sorry, girls, it was just easier to make this decision without the two of you breathing down my neck," my mother said.

My mouth dropped open. I had no words.

"Mom, this isn't like deciding to sell baskets instead of candles," Holly said, holding back her hair like she always did when she was upset. "This is your home."

"Exactly," my mother said, rising from her stool. "My home. My decision."

"Why?" I asked, watching her go through the motions of rinsing out her coffee cup and setting it back next to what was probably the first Mr. Coffee coffeemaker ever made. I remembered when my dad bought it for her and she balked and made a fuss, claiming that coffee percolated on the stove was a hundred times better.

"Why not?" she said, her back to us. "Maybe I'm tired of dealing with this old house, ever think of that?"

"This old house raised your family," I said, suddenly feeling weirdly defensive of buckled paneling and ancient s.h.a.g carpet.

"All your memories, your life-" Holly began.

"The plumbing, the settling, the cracks, the piers that are crumbling under my room, the wiring that's held together with duct tape," she countered. "Who's here to deal with all that? You?" she said to me and then looked at Holly. "You?"