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Chapter twenty-eight

Chris

A ll I wanted was to borrow a tool from Dad’s garage this morning and now I’m playing mediator, a role that I feel woefully under qualified to perform. Mom has been needling Caro about her plans. If she’s looking for jobs or if she wants to go back to college. If she’s going to stay with them “forever” or if she’ll disappear again. Based on my sister’s thinning patience, it’s not the first time they’ve had the conversation.

“Would you two stop?” I say around a bite of warm chocolate chip cookie that Caro probably stress baked.

The kitchen goes so quiet that I can hear Dad using a ratchet in the garage. I use the moment of peace to suck in breath and formulate the thought I’ve been trying to get out for the last fifteen minutes while my mom and sister have one of their epic bicker battles. It’s like old times, and not in a good way.

“How long are we going to do this? Caro is back, which is the only thing you’ve talked about wanting for years, and you’re still not happy? Give her five seconds to figure out her next steps.”

They give identical haughty snorts.

“I’m not going to make you guys hug and make up but, like, figure it out.”

Mom’s body language softens, and she cleans a smudge off her glasses with the hem of her sweater. “That’s what I used to make you two do.”

“We remember,” Caro and I answer at the same time.

I keep my voice as light as possible as I look at my sister. “Do you have any plans?”

Her lips are pressed firmly together. “I…I’m just not sure yet.”

I push the dwindling plate of cookies towards her and then Mom until we’re all happily eating our feelings.

Dad’s voice floats down the hall. “It’s quiet. Did they finally kill each other?”

“No,” the three of us chorus.

“Day isn’t over yet,” Caro says under her breath .

Here we go.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend the whole day moping around, we wouldn’t be on each other’s nerves as much.”

I drain the last of my coffee and clench my hands around the mug.

“I’m jet lagged!”

“You don’t have jet lag for a month, Carolina.”

Throwing my hands up, I back out of the room, leaving them to their own devices. Until Caro gets off the couch and moves forward, their string of bickering will be endless. She’s had too much independence to go back to being in our parent’s house so suddenly. She should have lined up a place to stay before coming back. I don’t know what Carolina has in mind for the next few weeks let alone years, but I wish I could help her. If I had more space in my suite, I’d have her stay with me. Briefly, I imagine moving in with Anna. We spend so many nights together anyway. But her place is even smaller than mine and I’d never expect her to accommodate me like that for the sake of my sister. Caro is going to have to figure this one out on her own.

** *

I remove my work gloves and rub my eyes, leaving the workbench to see what Isaac is scowling at on his laptop screen in his makeshift corner office.

“What are you looking at?”

I peek over Isaac’s shoulder at the screen displaying a real estate listing.

“Ah, there’s this shitty house for sale and it’s going to get snapped up in about three seconds.”

“By a developer.”

“By a developer,” he confirms. “A buddy that works in city planning tipped me off.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s on Pebble Beach.”

One of Isaac’s favourite spots. It’s not really part of the main area that tourists tend to visit. It’s rockier, more rugged, and less accessible. I love to run along there.

“How much longer are you going to live in a basement suite?” he asks, scooting his chair across the rough wood flooring and heading to the mini fridge in the corner.

I shrug, catching a cold beer he tosses my way. “I don’t know. I guess I’m outgrowing it. Why?”

“Buy the beach house with me.”

He has that wild look in his eye that he gets when the wheels are turning. I can practically see the blueprints drawing themselves behind his eyes. There’s a frenzy of ideas beginning to fire in my own brain. A whole house? What am I gonna do with an entire house? Working on it with Isaac and the other guys will be blast. And a lot of work.

“I admit it’s in rough shape. But someone was already trying to get it back in order so part of the house is decent. You and Anna could live there together.”

Fuck. It’s like he knew the exact right thing to say.

I’m quiet as I take a few sips of beer I almost forgot I was holding. Anna and I keep slipping into each other’s beds, even when we don’t plan to. And if I move out of Berg’s suite then maybe Caro can…

The whole idea is too good to be true. It can’t be that easy.

“What makes you think I can afford that?”

He points the neck of his beer in my direction. “I like how you didn’t correct me about moving in with Anna.”

I shrug. “Honestly, that’s the less nerve-wracking part of this idea. Being with Anna is so simple. What if she’s not into it?”

“Wow. I thought I heard a string quartet playing for a second there.”

“Shut up.” I punch him in the arm.

I am outgrowing the suite and privacy would be nice. After so long living in a one-bedroom place I wouldn’t even know what to do with a whole damn house. Anna doesn’t even have walls around her bedroom. Even if she isn’t ready to move in together, I still want to do this with Isaac. It’s about time to start climbing the very steep West Isle property ladder.

“Shove over.” I take Isaac’s spot at the computer and begin scrolling through the pictures.

He’s not wrong, the place needs work. But an oceanfront property for this price is a steal and as I click through the images on the listing ideas roll in. Something bright and beachy with comfortable finishings. A bedroom overlooking the ocean.

I pull a notebook from my pocket and a pencil from behind my ear.

“Let’s talk numbers.”