Page 4 of Home Sweet Home

“Foreclose?” She’d seen signs on houses around town and read stories in the news, but she didn’t know what it meant.

“Bank takes your house and sells it. You’d get back some equity, but they’ll want to sell the house quick. That means they’ll sell it for cheap.” Gloria reached over, marble-sized turquoise beads around her neck banging together as she patted the back of Evie’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey. Your mom was one of my favorite customers. I know how hard you both worked to buy and keep this house. I’m here to help, whatever way I can.”

Evie closed her eyes for a second, picturing her mom, a wide smile on her face. It was the first time she’d brought them over to see the house, and even though the day had otherwise been uneventful, ordinary in every way, the memory had stuck with Evie.

“How long do I have?”

“Sixty days.”

Evie knew how much money she made. With every penny accounted for, she had to. It varied based on tips, but even if she put everything she would earn toward what she owed on the mortgage and ignored the Visa bill, the car payment, gas, insurance, and the fact that they were humans who needed to eat, it still wasn’t close to enough.

A clock ticked, a carved wooden owl with big cartoon eyes and talons, as if to remind Evie of her failure. The clock was her mom’s favorite thing in the house. It hoo-ed on the hour. They used to gather around it as the little hand turned, counting down the seconds.

“It may not be my place,” Gloria started, “but you might want to consider asking—”

“No.” She shook her head, feeling dizzy because while she’d baked cupcakes, lectured Josh, and scrubbed the bathtub until it was spotless, she still hadn’t eaten.

“Just think it over.” Gloria tapped her hands on the table. “I’m here if you need me.”

CHAPTERTWO

Evie hadn’t saton her thinking swing in a while, but then again, she normally didn’t have much time for thinking. After Gloria left, Evie sank down onto the rusted seat. They’d gotten the garden swing secondhand from someone in town. It had been shiny and basically new, but years of rain had rusted it over. When Evie kicked to get it moving, the swing remained stubbornly in place, the rusted joints refusing to budge.

“Hi there,” a voice called.

Evie glanced over to see Della Hawthorne in her own backyard, gardening gloves on, a warm smile on her face as she waved at Evie.

At one time, Della had been a constant fixture in Evie’s life. She and Evie’s mom hadn’t exactly been friends, but they’d been friendly since their front doors were less than twenty feet apart. Della had asked them over for dinner often, and Evie had always looked forward to it. Della’s delicious ribs were famous throughout Jade County. Della had kept Evie and Josh fed for months after their mom died, dropping off more casserole variations than Evie had known existed. Evie was pretty sure she still had one of Della’s dishes tucked away in a cabinet, though Della had never asked for it back. But as the years had gone on, and with West gone, their connection had faded. Della still invited them over from time to time, but Evie always declined, not wanting to be a burden.

Evie was hardly in the mood to make small talk, especially with West’s scandal looming over them both—Della surely had to know by now—but she couldn’t fight her breeding. In Creek Water, not waving to someone who waved at you was the worst kind of offense.

“Hey, Della.” Evie’s smile was as thin as her voice.

Della’s eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners as she smiled, and Evie wondered if Della didn’tknow about West yet. The smile was familiar. She’d seen West put it on a thousand times, the kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes, and this sent new pangs of discomfort through her.

“Have some leftover ribs and mashed potatoes,” Della said, holding a gloved hand over her eyes to block out the sun. “Why don’t I box them up for you and Josh? I’m still not quite used to cooking just for one.”

Della’s husband, Rex, had died from lung cancer less than a year before. No one had ever told Evie for sure it was lung cancer, but she’d seen Rex at the diner on Sundays, coughing so loudly, it reverberated throughout the dining room. Sometimes she could hear him coughing in his house through her own walls. That might have been the last time she’d talked to Della too—when Rex died.

Evie opened her mouth to protest, to say they were just fine, but then her stomach rumbled. Cooking a meal after the news she’d just received seemed to require as much effort as summiting Mount Everest.

“Sure,” Evie said, and Della’s smile widened.

“Be back in a jiffy!” Della peeled off her gloves and dropped them on the lawn before she disappeared through her back door. A few seconds later, she reemerged, Tupperware in hand.

Evie got up off the garden swing to go grab the container, but Della waved her away, already walking across the lawn toward Evie. Once she arrived, she placed the Tupperware in Evie’s hand. The plastic was no match for the salty, fatty aroma of the ribs, which made Evie’s mouth fill up with saliva.

Evie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Della said.

For a moment, Evie wondered if she should say something about West—what she would say, she had no idea—but before she could make up her mind, Della was already walking back toward her own backyard, giving Evie a small wave as she retreated.

Later that evening, as the sun was just starting to set, while Evie’s stomach was blissfully full with food she hadn’t had to cook herself, Kayla showed up, scissors in one hand, a bottle of merlot in the other.

“So Kenny comes to pick Ryleigh up,” Kayla said, slicing through Josh’s hair. “And his new girlfriend walks right up to the door with him. This huge smile on her face like she’s a”—Kayla pressed her hands over Josh’s ears—“fucking Barbie doll and it’s permanently inked there.”

“I’m seventeen,” Josh said. “I’ve heard the wordfuckingbefore.”

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