Page 112 of Spindrift

Katherineinspected her father’s room, first. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Shewanted to push the woman out of the way and slam the door before she could sayanything. This had been a mistake. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready.

“Sometimesit is good to leave the master suite untouched,” Katherine said, and Emiliarealized she was being watched. “It gives prospective buyers a place for apersonal touch, and you’ve done a wonderful job with the rest of the house.Have you had an appraisal yet?”

“Notyet.” She could barely breathe.

“Thatwould be the next step if you decide to list. An inspection, too—that way thereare no surprises.”

“Surprises?”She’d had enough of those already.

“Likea failing septic.”

Thingsare already shitty enough.

“I—”

“Thisis a lot of information, I know. Why don’t I meet you back downstairs?”

Emiliafled.

Backin the kitchen, alone with her dog, she rested her forehead against the fridgeand held on to the sides of the appliance. Nausea wracked her body. She wantedto call Morgan, craving her stability, but that wasn’t possible with Katherinein the house. The idea of other people poking around her father’s life wasintolerable.

Awarm hand touched her arm. She blinked into Katherine’s hazel eyes andflinched.

“CanI pour you a glass of wine? A cup of tea?”

Tearssprang to her eyes and overflowed in a hot torrent at the simple kindness. Shegestured wordlessly at the fridge she’d been clinging to and accepted the smallglass of white wine Katherine poured her. The cool liquid trickled down herthroat, and she mopped at her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing hermascara.

“Thisis incredibly difficult,” said Katherine. “Would you like me to come back atanother time?”

Emiliashook her head. She did not want Katherine coming back. Only after she’dfinished the gesture did she realize she had inadvertently let an opportunityfor escape slip past her.

“Whydon’t I lay out the steps for you? That way you have all the information infront of you.” She guided Emilia to a seat at the kitchen table and took thechair opposite as she laid out a folder.

Shelistened as Katherine explained about inspections and appraisals and thevarious rental opportunities available in the current market, as well as thelikelihood of a quick sale. She had a low, melodic voice that gradually pushedback the sparkling darkness at the edges of Emilia’s vision. Her desire to hateher abated. It didn’t matter anymore that she was Morgan’s ex. The reality ofdealing with her father’s house was so much larger than that. When Katherine atlast stood to leave, she thanked her with sincerity, shut the door, and sank tothe foyer floor to weep until her head ached and her throat was raw.

Anotherglass of wine and an icepack to her forehead later, she Facetimed Anna Maria.

“What’sup, chicken butt?”

“Seriously?”

“Toddlers,Emmy, toddlers. It’s all butts all the time.”

“Canyou spare a minute for my butt?”

AnnaMaria squinted at her through the phone and frowned as she no doubt registeredthe bloodshot eyes and puffy face of someone who had very recently beensobbing.

“Ofcourse. Do not bite your sister. Babe, kids are yours.”

AnnaMaria walked briskly to a different room and settled into a chair. “What’swrong?”

“Everything.”

“Canwe start a little smaller than that and work our way up?”

Emiliasniffled. “Maybe.”

“Didsomething happen today?”

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