Page 9

“Are we going to my parents’ house?”
“No,” he said. “Not at all.”
I frowned as we passed the welcome sign to their neighborhood. As we went by manicured lawns I knew my mom was responsible for as the head of the HOA, even my fake good mood vanished.
Their tan and white home came up, and I crossed my arms.
Then we pulled into the driveway of the house next door.
“What?” I asked.
“Surprise. This is the house we’re seeing.”
I slowly turned toward it. This was a tan brick home with two stories. It wasn’t a new build, but it was also ten different shades of beige, just like my parents’.
Mom and Dad’s neighborhood was nice, but it was so regulated that there was no freedom to do anything different. She lurked as if catching prey when hunting down anyone out of compliance.
“R-really?” I asked. “But homes here are way too expensive.”
“Don’t worry about that. Let’s just see the inside.”
“But it’s?—”
“You’ll love it. It’s just like the house you grew up in.”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again. When I thought of my childhood home, I saw Mom and Dad’s house, but I also saw Papa Bennie’s old farmhouse. It had blue and white wallpaper, an old woodburning stove that kept everything warm in the winter, and massive windows that let all the light in.
But there was no way to use the wordfarmwith Trevor.
Slowly, I got out of the car, hoping I would like it more on the inside.
But all I could see was gray. The owners had tried to remodel it, but they had done the same thing the modern-day builders did: They’d painted everything one tone to make it appeal to the masses.
It was the same layout as Mom and Dad’s house. An office, a dining room, and a cookie-cutter kitchen.
Papa Bennie’s kitchen had tiled countertops with leaves painted on them. It was gorgeous.
I wished I could see it again.
“There you two are!” Mom said as she walked through the door. “This is soperfect,isn’t it?”
“Hi, Maribelle.” Trevor turned with a smile. “She’s taking it all in.”
“I can’t wait for us to be neighbors. We can see each other everyday!”She clapped her hands together, but then leaned toward Trevor and said in a lower voice, “And I can make sure you mow your lawn correctly.”
“I-it’s nice, but it’s way out of the budget,” I said, shaking my head. “We’ll have to find something in a different part of town.”
Mom smiled conspiratorially with Trevor. “Should we tell her?”
“We should.”
“Come on.” She waved for us to follow her. “We have something to show you.”
We walked from the empty house for sale and into theirs. Dimly, I realized I would never have any privacy. Mom would be ineverything.
My nerves only grew as we walked into Dad’s office at the back of the house.
“You have a lot more than you know,” Mom said. “And with this”—she pulled out an envelope— “you can afford the house next door.”