Page 5 of His One True Wish

I had zero interest in listening to Mom gush about Abby and her real estate genius. Mom needed this house cleared out for staging, and there was no way all our things would fit into our tiny garage. We could get a storage unit, but why get stuck in a contract when Mom needed storage for just a short while.

I bolted down the stairs two at a time. Why had it taken me so long to come up with this plan? Going to the cabin was exactly what I needed to help Mom and avoid Abby.

I walked into the kitchen. Mom stood at the sink. “Mom, where are the keys to the truck?”

“Oh, honey.” Mom turned around. She wiped her hands with a towel and nodded to the back door. “Abby just arrived.”

I looked outside to see Abby Brix standing at the back door, her hand poised to rap on the glass.

CHAPTER 2

BILLIE

“Come on in, Abby,” Mom called, waving.

“Oh, Billie!” Abby said, smiling as she stepped inside. She had the same shiny, blonde, bob haircut I remembered from high school. She was tall, toned, and wearing a stylish, red wool coat with black fur trim. “It is SO good to see you. It’s been, what, ten years?”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, swallowing, arms crossed. I hated how awkward I felt and how much I wanted to leave my own kitchen. “It’s good to see you,” I lied. “Thanks for helping Mom.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you are still so sweet. Your mom has been a total doll. I am loving working with her.”

“That’s great,” I said, nodding like a bobblehead. “The keys, Mom? Do you have them?”

“They are right here, Billie,” Mom said. Opening a junk drawer, she pulled out the gold, shooting-star keychain I gave to both Gran and Mom for Mother’s Day years ago. Cubic zirconia diamonds covered the broken tail. At age ten, I thought it was the most beautiful gift in the world.

“Why do you need the keys?” Mom said, handing them to me.

“I figured out how to solve our storage problem,” I said. “I’m going to drive to Smoke River.”

“Wait. Where?” Abby asked, eyes dancing between Mom and me.

“Honey, I don’t get why,” Mom said.

“The house is empty. The barn is empty. We have a ton of boxes and furniture to store. The truck is ready to go. I can get up there tonight and be back by morning. It’s brilliant.”

“I don’t know,” Mom said. “I don’t like it.”

“Are you sure you need to do this?” Abby asked, her perfectly manicured hands resting on her hips. She probably did yoga like stupid Hot Yoga Brenda. “It’s Friday night — ”

“Road are clear,” I said. “It will be fine.” I opened the back door and stepped out into the cold. Mom and Abby followed me onto the porch.

“— and you know that area is notorious for black ice,” Abby continued.

“Oh, gosh. Black ice,” Mom repeated, her fingers at her throat as if clutching invisible pearls.

“I’m not worried,” I said, feigning a smile. I picked up two small boxes and added them to the back of the pick-up. There wasn’t room for anything else.

“Also, there is construction by Golden,” Abby said, giving my mom a knowing look.

“Oh, gosh. Construction by Golden,” Mom repeated like a cockatoo.

“All good.” I held my phone up. “I’ll be sure to use my app.” I walked around the truck, pulling up the blue tarp and checking the tie-downs. I hoped my non-responsiveness would signal to them both that I was no longer seeking advice.

“That is so helpful, Abby,” I heard my mother murmur.

I tugged on the ratchet straps crisscrossing the blue tarp one-by-one. Abby chattered on about how growth in Golden was really pushing up home prices, and how much this would benefit Mom with her central location and level lot.

My stomach tightened. A level lot. Of course. That was the angle. I glanced up at Mom, eyebrows raised. Iknewthere was an angle. Abby wasn’t interested in pushing Mom to remodel the kitchen because our beautiful bungalow was being represented as a tear-down.

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