Page 11 of What are the Chances

I roll my eyes and groan at the same time Sam does. “Not like we haven’t heard that one before,” I mutter sarcastically.

“You never told me you had a brother, Sam,” Charlotte says, ignoring me. “This is quite entertaining.”

Leaning forward, I smack Sam’s shoulder. I fall back in my seat with a huff and relax against the passenger door.

“Sam never told you about me? Shows how much of a dick he really is.” From behind his headrest, I can see Sam shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. My brother seems to be in an unusually extra shitty mood today.”

“I don’t mind your bickering,” Charlotte says, turning away from me and Sam, focusing on the landscape out her window. Her voice is small and quiet, a stark contrast to the way she spoke earlier. “I’m an only child so I’ve never really known what it was like to have siblings.”

Silence fills the small space of Sam’s four-door sedan. I’m tempted to speak up, come up with some clever retort, teasing Sam or Charlotte on the wishful thinking of being an only child. But when her shoulders fall, and she doesn’t offer a further explanation, I decide against it. I keep my mouth shut.

A few minutes later, Sam turns into our parents’ neighborhood. Tight stone houses line the streets, some clustered together. Luckily, my parents’ house is set near the edge of town, separated from the busier side of the village. A few moments later, Sam turns onto their street. Reaching the end, he pulls up along the curb and turns off the car.

Resting my hand on top of Noodge’s urn, I shift in my seat to get a better view of the house.

“Are we still in Ennis?” Charlotte asks.

I don’t give Sam the opportunity to answer. “Technically, yes.”

“Technically?” Her eyes move from her passenger window to the windshield, then across to Sam’s window. A small smile spreads across her face as she takes in our surroundings.

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Technically, we’re on the eastern side of Ennis, but my parents live in Roslevan. This part of town is mostly residential.”

“It’s a beautiful house.” Her voice is near a whisper, and I find myself smiling.

Sam eyes me once again in the rearview mirror, catching me staring at Charlotte. He shakes his head in disapproval before stepping out of the car.

I step out of the door and walk around to the trunk. Sam grabs Charlotte’s larger suitcase while I grab the small, silver one she had when I first met her. Slinging my large duffle bag over my shoulder, I wrap my arm around Noodge’s urn and extend the handle on Charlotte’s carryon, dragging it behind me.

The small stone house is quiet, and I breathe in the cool air, smelling the rain coming off the freshly cut grass. Long, tangled green vines cover the wall to the right of the large wooden front door. The leaves are overgrown, snaking their way to the edge of the roof, and I mentally remind myself to trim them later.

Sam unlocks the door, and once we're in the entryway, I stand Charlotte’s suitcase against the wall and drop my duffle bag to the tile floor. The living room is bright and airy, the natural light of the midday sun pouring through the large glass windows lining the house.

Sam heads into the kitchen, returning with three water bottles, handing one to me and Charlotte.

Charlotte stands in the middle of the entryway, her face a mixture of curiosity and amazement. My parents’ house hasn’t changed much since Sam and I moved out more than ten years ago—the same knick-knacks line the walls, the same lace curtains frame the small window above the kitchen sink.

“Where are your mom and dad?”

“They went on one of those Viking River cruises. They won’t be back for another two weeks,” Sam explains.

“Sucks I won’t see them when I’m out here. Maybe next time,” I say to Sam.

Charlotte’s eyes fall to the opposite side of the house. She slowly walks down the hallway, stopping in front of the large white double doors leading to the back patio.

Carefully placing Noodge’s urn on the dining room table, I follow her, making sure to keep a considerable distance. Mimicking her, I stare out into the garden that makes up the backyard.

Nearly every square inch of the yard is covered with every kind of flower, plant, and vegetable known to man. Each plant is divided by short wooden planks, creating a methodical maze of sorts. The garden stretches all the way to the back fence, and the sun shines against the section of roses to the right side of the backyard.

“This is seriously the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

I take a step forward, moving beside her.

“My mom has always loved her gardening.” I point to the back left corner of the backyard. “Do you see that tree back there? I used to sit beneath it for hours when I was a kid, working on my homework while my mom planted her roses or picked her vegetables.”

Charlotte nods. She hasn’t spoken a word but when I turn and face her, her eyes are glassy, shining against the sunlight pouring in. Her eyelids are hooded over, and she releases a long, heavy yawn.

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