Page 125 of Love & Other Disasters

“I’m not selling the house. And if I did, I’m not giving you half.”

“You can’t do that, legally.”

“I’ve used my money to begin cleanup here. Under your watch, it became a nightmare of disrepair and clutter. And what about Mom’s hospital bills and care? The specialized care she needs isn’t cheap; her social security and retirement fund doesn’t cover it all in a month. You want to guess who makes up that difference? Go on, guess.”

Ethan was silent.

“And you’ve been conveniently absent from every decision made regarding her healthcare. So you can kiss my ass, little brother, if you think for one second you’re getting a dime from this house. You’ve already taken everything that was worth anything.”

“That’s not true,” Ethan sputtered.

“Are you gambling or just out of work?”

“You’re a bastard. I will get a lawyer and take the house from you. Then, I’ll sell it and not split it with you.”

A car door slammed and the engine roared to life and revved. Violet moved away from the door, but J.P. didn’t come inside. She waited for a minute, but he didn’t open the door. Where was he? She went to the French doors that led to the back porch and found J.P. pacing the small lawn below. It was probably best to leave him to his moment alone.

J.P. marched around the yard until the white fiery ball of rage sitting in his gut dissipated. He wouldn’t ruin his time with Violet by giving Ethan more energy than he deserved. And since this weekend was about Violet, he pushed the fight with his brother to the recesses. Their issues would all still exist after she returned to Nashville. Hopefully he didn’t catch hell for putting her in the house.

Violet stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter still wearing the pretty dress with the white puffy skirts underneath, her feet bare. The bottle of scotch sat on the counter next to her and she held a glass.

“Are you drinking scotch?”

“It’s nasty and it burns, but my buzz from earlier is back… Are you okay?” She took a sip and grimaced.

He smiled and crossed to her, taking the glass, he shot the rest of it in one gulp.

“I’ll get you something you like. I’m sorry I shut you in the house earlier.”

“I get it. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t want you to witness Ethan’s crap. I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s not like I haven’t had my fair share of family drama,” she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. J.P. grabbed Violet and buried his face in her neck, the light flowery fragrance of her perfume lingered, and the tension drained from his shoulders.

“What do you want to do tonight?” he asked, against her neck. “We can take the train into Chicago if you want.”

“I want to stay in.”

“You sure?” he looked at Violet.

“It’s been a long day. I’d rather order in and curl up with you on the couch.”

“Sounds good. I’ll swing by the store and get a bottle of wine and pick up dinner. You get comfortable.” J.P. turned, but Violet had his hand.

“Can Ethan take the house from you?” she asked.

“No. He’ll never get a lawyer.”

“But what if he does. What if he contests this?”

“When Mom bought this place, she used the money from selling her salons to buy it outright. What she didn’t think about was the property taxes. A few years later, she could not afford them. So she transferred the deed to me, and I’ve paid the property taxes the last four years.”

Violet gaped up at him. “You own this house?”

“According to the state of Illinois.”

“So if Ethan pursues this, he will be in for a rude awakening.”

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