Page 19 of Casita Casanova
My sweet, conniving,mastermindof a daughter at least has the decency toattemptto look sheepish, even though I know her well enough to catch each little twitch of her lips she tries to hide from me. She’s gloating. She’sproudof herself.
“Arabella.” I sigh, sitting down across from her at the kitchen table, now free of boxes. She was busy while Danielle and I were gone. “You shouldn’t have done this.”
“Why not?” She raises her gaze, eyes bright with indignance. “You can’t afford this place, and I don’t want you to lose it.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t even supposed to know that, baby.”
“I’m not an idiot. You’re a stay-at-home mom; you can’t afford a beach house in California. Plus, I overheard you and Danielle talking about it a few weeks ago.”
Groaning, I place my head in my hands. “I was trying to protect you.”
“I’m nineteen. I don’t need you to protect me anymore, okay?”
I don’t know if I should be pissed or proud that she took the initiative and placed the casita up for rent. I’m a solid mix of both right now, honestly.
I lean forward with my elbows on the table, dropping my head into my hands.
“So…” Ari asks hesitantly. “Did you get a renter?”
“Yes,” I groan.
Danielle enters the kitchen and places a couple bags on the counter. “You guys get everything all sorted out?”
“No,” I say at the same time as my daughter answers, “Yes.”
Danielle laughs. “Sounds like you two.” She places a beer in front of me on the table. “We’re celebrating.”
“What are we celebrating?” Ari reaches for my beer but I slap her hand away.
“Your mom has some hot, young, single guy coming to live in the casita, and he’s paying way more than it’s worth—no offense—so he’s obviously wealthy.”
Ari’s eyes widen. “How much?”
“Five grand a month.” Danielle takes a swig of her beer.
Ari looks at me for confirmation, so I nod, a little thrill of excitement replacing the anger I have over what my daughter did behind my back.
“Oh my God! Fivegrand? Amonth?” Ari leaps from her chair and starts jumping up and down. “That’s amazing, Mom! We’re going to be rich!”
I snort. “Hardly. But at least I won’t have to run out and get seven jobs right away—”
“Wait…” Ari looks at Danielle. “How do you know he’s hot and single?”
“We don’t.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head at Danielle. “We don’t know anything about him.” I pause, thinking back to the phone call. “We don’t even know it’s ahim.”
Danielle sets her beer down on the counter and splays her hands out in front of her in presentation, then connects the middle finger and thumb on each hand in a meditation pose. “It’s called manifestation, ladies; Google that shit.”
Ari laughs, then pauses again, her brows furrowing. “Are we manifesting a hot guy for me, or for Mom?”
“We’re not manifesting anything foranyone, young lady.Youneed to focus on school.”
“It’s summertime,” she whines.
“Regardless, no manifesting hot guys.”
“Well,” Danielle says, “we’ve concluded that there will be no hot guys for Arabella, and we can’t manifest a hottie for me because I’m so head over heels for Uncle Brett, so…”
“Let’s just manifest a good, quiet tenant who keeps to themselves and pays me enough rent to cover the property taxes until the market turns around and I can sell this place.”
