Page 25 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

“All that—” Xander waved his own hand. “—is a damned mess. I just want you to know that you don’t stand alone here.”

Whatever she would’ve said to that got cut off by Ari bursting out of the house. Time to vacate before he mucked this up any worse. “Have a good day at school, kiddo. Kennedy, I’ll see you around.”

Xander gave them both a wave and headed for his cruiser.

Chapter Seven

KENNEDY GOT BACK TO the house braced for a fight. She’d meant what she said. With everything on their plates, letting herself be provoked was a waste of precious energy and detrimental to Ari. But she didn’t actually expect any of them to let it drop. Why would they? It had been open season on her since she got back Stateside, and Athena in particular seemed determined to get in every verbal jab she could—maybe because Maggie was far too controlled for something like that.

Her sisters were still in the kitchen, in the process of doing the dishes and clearing away the leftovers.

From her position at the sink Athena smirked. “Back a week and already starting things back up with the ex you left high and dry. Ballsy.”

“I’m not starting anything back up with Xander. He gave me a ride. That’s all.”

“Clearly not the good kind. You don’t look anywher

e near relaxed enough for that.”

Okay, that was it. Kennedy was about to drag her sister into the kind of rip-roaring, hair-pulling fight she hadn’t had since she was thirteen.

“Athena, that’s enough.” Maggie’s voice was sharp. “You’ve taken your potshots and now you’re done. Kennedy’s right. We have more important things to worry about. The status of her relationship with Xander is not one of them.”

It didn’t exactly qualify as support, but Kennedy would take it.

Athena scowled and plunged her hands into the soapy water.

Apparently in go mode, Maggie continued. “Now, since Athena and I only have a few days left, we need to make the most of them. There’s no reason to think there’s any problem keeping the house, but we should go through the whole thing, top to bottom. We’re not finished with that list of items Mom bequeathed to folks, and we need to give the whole thing a good cleaning and general going over, inspecting for any problems or necessary repairs. It’s a big house and it’s old, so we need to be thorough and head off any issues before they turn into actual problems.”

She’d made a list for each of them. Of course she had. Maggie was used to running the world, so organizing and delegating was par for the course. As soon as she’d finished giving orders, Kennedy pushed back from the table. She wanted some time alone to think and clearing out the third floor bedrooms was just the place to get it.

The third floor had originally been an attic, loosely divided into servants’ quarters for the brief period when the lumber baron who’d built the place could afford them. Later generations had used it for storage, but Joan had turned them back into bedrooms when she’d exceeded the capacity of the six bedrooms on the second floor. Because there were always more children who needed a safe place to stay.

Kennedy flipped on the light in the first room. Judging by the layer of dust up here, nobody had been in residence for quite some time. Moving from room to room, she turned on lights and opened windows to let in the chilly morning air. After stripping all the beds and starting a load of linens in the washer, she hauled cleaning supplies from downstairs and began the process of dusting, scrubbing, and polishing.

The work was mindless and methodical and reminded her of her various stints working in housekeeping for various hotel chains, a couple resorts, even a B and B or two. It hadn’t been her favorite job, but it had been honest work. There was something satisfying about putting things to rights and leaving a space ready for its next guest. Not that these rooms were likely to see more guests. Even if Pru opted to adopt Ari, Kennedy highly doubted she was interested in taking on Mom’s mantle and rescuing all the lost children. Joan’s death meant the end of an era. The thought made Kennedy ache all over again.

“I don’t think anybody’s been up here in a while.”

At the sound of Pru’s voice, Kennedy scrubbed a hand over her wet cheeks. “It seems to have escaped Mom’s last deep clean.”

Pru came into the room, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking how sad it is. I mean, apart from all the obvious reasons, but this is the end of the Misfit Inn.”

A bittersweet smile curved Pru’s lips. “I’d forgotten about that.” She looked around the room. “Joan’s Misfit Inn, home for the wayward.”

“And sometimes wicked,” Kennedy finished, mustering a smile of her own.

“She wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“Can you imagine if she had? One person rattling around in this monstrous house? Who on Earth needs eleven bedrooms?”

“No sane person,” Pru agreed.

“It’s a good house, though. You can feel all the love that soaked into the walls.” Kennedy ran a hand over the chair rail she’d just polished. “All the rooms could use more than a good cleaning. A fresh coat of paint would go a long way toward perking everything up.”

“No sense in that if no one’s going to be using the rooms. We should probably shut off this floor of the house to save a bit on the utility bills.”

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