Page 7 of Yes No Maybe

“Well, books are her business, being an English teacher,” Vernon laughs. “Right, Jack?”

He groans while I say, “Mom used to read it to me. It’s what I call this place, too.The Little House.Growing up, I wanted a house I could take with me. We moved so often that home felt like a shapeshifter. As soon as we settled into one, we traded it for another. Gosh, I’m sorry. I just love that book.”

Tom steps forward with hippie-like authority. “Well, if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

Now, I stare, a little baffled. Identifying with this house the same way its previous owners did strengthens my connection to it, especially when Rose fumbles around the built-in bookshelf and pulls a worn copy ofThe Little Housefrom the cabinet.

“See, love? Margot left it behind for the new owner.”

She hands it to me, and in a room full of strangers, I hug the book that made me want this house in the first place.

A bit breathless, I manage, “But I don’t believe in signs.” Lightning and then thunder join my declaration, making my shoulders tense.

“Everyoneknows that book,” Jack says sharply. “It’s not a sign. It’s a damn coincidence. Can we go home now?”

“Don’t mind him. He’s always like this when he’s not writing, and this house is special,” Rose whispers, though he still hears her. He cuts her a narrow-eyed look of warning. “So, how soon can you move in? …Youaremoving in, right?”

“I love this house. It’s totally me. And you’re lovely people.Mostly.But it’s been one of those surprising, exhausting, exhilarating, and confusing days that changes everything.”

“Oh, do tell, pet,” Rose implores sweetly. Jack’s face twists again like he’s about to scold her.

To cut him off, I say, “I botched my boyfriend’s surprising public proposal by blurtingyes, no, maybe, before saying a definiteyes, and now he’s asking for space.Space?Like I’m a helicopter girlfriend or a child hanging onto his leg—an irony because I’m not needy.”

Jack huffs. “All women are needy.”

I square my shoulders. “Ha, with that narrow-minded attitude, I bet you’re single.”

Rose, Vernon, and Tom laugh.

“He’s as single as the day is long,” Vernon confirms.

“Do go on, Rowan. This is stimulating,” Rose says.

“Aneedywoman wouldn’t buy a house without telling her boyfriend, which Ialmostdid. He doesn’t even know I was house hunting. I didn’t want him to feel trapped or obligated to share the responsibility. But leave it to me to get engaged and nearly broken up with on the same night, not that anyone would ever predict the former, least of all me.” I motion casually to my face.

“Why not, hon?” Rose asks, looking straight at me.

I smile like she could be my new best friend, though I wonder about her eyesight. “I don’t get many dates. Not that I’m complaining.”

She looks confused while the others stay silent.

“Anyway, he’s leaving for three months to pursue his acting dreams—he’s an actor, well, and a teacher. Hopefully, when he returns, we’ll pick up where we left off, as if my verbal hiccup didn’t happen. Buying a house without him would hurt my chances of convincing him that I meanyes. So, this won’t work for me anymore.”

“Eh, if you love something enough, you find a way to make it work.” She pats my hand as she says it—a trick I pull with distracted students when I see them daydreaming—and it works on me, too. I love Dean enough to make us work, and I love this house enough to wonder if it might fit into that equation.Could it?

Vernon steps closer, locking eyes with sternness. “Think of your children, Rowan, and the school district.”

A laugh surfaces at his strong conviction—though he’s right about the district,mydistrict. It’s the best in the area. “You’ll have other buyers, ones who have children. Maybe even a shrink or a nice… podiatrist or something.” I don’t know why I said podiatrist, but they graciously overlook it—except Jack, who looks almost amused.

“Oh, people with children don’t want the place,” Rose says. “Too small, they say.”

“Too much work,” moans Vernon.

“No garage,” Tom adds.

“If it doesn’t sell soon, Margot’ll resort to renters.” Rose whispersrenterslike it’s a bad word.

“Werentersaren’t all bad,” I say.

---