Page 2 of When Cardinals Appear

“I’m the boss, so I can take off whenever I need to.” He arched an eyebrow. “Dad was home, though, and he’s retired. You could’ve asked him.”

I nodded. My father and I had argued a lot recently, and the last thing I needed was a never-ending drive alone with him on which he could interrogate me about my life choices.

“Was the ceremony nice?” Steven asked.

The tension in my shoulders relaxed at the subject change. “It was okay. I didn’t know any of the other graduates. But some of my friends came, and James.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. Setting up the office has taken all of my time and money.”

“No worries.” I turned away to hide my face. I understood why he and Dad hadn’t come, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It might have helped alleviate some of the pain from Mom’s absence to have the rest of my family there. But I didn’t say that. Graduation was over a month ago, and I didn’t want to argue. Besides, I hadn’t come home for Christmas, so I supposed we were even.

I stepped over to the refrigerator and peered inside. It had recently been stocked with the bare necessities: milk, eggs, cheese, and coffee creamer. I smiled. While Steven hadn’t bothered with the upkeep of the house, at least he’d had the forethought to buy some supplies.

After closing the refrigerator door, I turned back to him. “Have you opened yet?”

“Oh yeah. We took on a few small clients in November and had a grand opening right after New Year’s.” His face broke into a broad grin. “It was the biggest party Cedar Haven has seen in years.”

“I’ll bet.” I struggled to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. My hometown wasn’t exactly known for being party central. I checked the cabinets next. Mom’s everyday plates were neatly stacked, and glasses shimmered in the kitchen light. From the looks of things, he hadn’t started packing. I stifled a groan. Looked like I would have my work cut out for me in preparing the house for sale. Perhaps not starting my new job until May was a good thing. I was really out of my element and had no idea how long it would take to finalize the sale of the house and the rest of Mom’s estate.

“I suppose congratulations are in order. How does it feel to have a master’s degree?”

“Not much different, to be honest. I’m sure that’ll change once I start teaching.” I closed the cabinet door and faced him, leaning against the granite counter.

“Speaking of.” Steven cleared his throat, and my stomach clenched. “Are you sure you want to live all the way out in California? Can’t you find something here?”

I glared at him. “Been talking to Dad?”

Steven widened his eyes in faux innocence. “Why would you assume that?”

“Because he’s been hounding me about moving home since I left.” I rubbed my temples with my forefingers, hoping to stop the headache that was forming behind my eyes. “And as I’m sure he told you, I’m not coming back. James helped me find the perfect job. It’s an entire school dedicated to children with special needs. We’re going to find a place together.”

“Okay, but your family is here.” Steven crossed his arms over his chest. He resembled Dad when he did that. His forbidding posture and furrowed brow was totally a Max McAllister stance.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Or ever. “I just got here.” If I was being honest, I struggled with my own reasoning sometimes, which meant I would have an even harder time trying to articulate it to my family, who loved everything about Cedar Haven. My main aversion to moving home revolved around Mom’s dreams for me to have a better life and the promise I’d made to her. But the house and the town also held too many memories. They were painful reminders of all I’d lost and people I would rather forget. If I stayed, the ghosts of my past would haunt me, and I wasn’t sure I could live with that.

Steven’s face softened. “I’m sorry. It’s just... You know, Dad and I would love to have you home.” He picked up his briefcase then opened it on the kitchen table. “Anyway, I wanted to drop off the paperwork for the house and Mom’s will. You should be familiar with it, as it’s the same stuff I emailed you a few months ago.”

Oh no. My mouth went dry.

“There’s also a docket sheet that includes court dates for probate,” Steven continued, oblivious to my growing discomfort. “You’ll need to attend those.” He set out a separate stack. “I’ve already spoken to John over at Peak Realty, and he gave me the documentation for the house. We’ll need to have it assessed, both for value and any necessary repairs.”

Keeping my eyes on the documents, I tucked my hair behind my ears, my stomach squeezing. While I’d received his emails, I hadn’t actually looked at anything he sent.

“I wish I understood why Mom made me executor,” I said, trying to quell the growing panic. “You’re the lawyer, after all. It makes more sense for you to handle her estate.”

“I’m sure she had her reasons.” Though his expression remained impassive, I detected a slight bitterness in his tone. He put a hand on my shoulder and gave me an awkward pat. “Like I said, this should all be familiar to you. All you need to do is sign.” When I shifted my weight to my other foot, he finally seemed to notice my change in demeanor. “You did read the emails I sent, right?”

“Well...” I hedged.

His head fell back as he stared at the ceiling. “Seriously, Lanie? I sent everything to you back in August.”

“I was busy with school.”

“Your semester ended before Christmas.” He shot me a pointed look. “Which means you’ve had almost a month without classes.”

“I-I was packing.” Even I could hear how flimsy the excuses sounded. I stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. The truth was, every time I’d tried to open the attachments and review the information he’d sent, I’d become overwhelmed with grief, and I’d shut down my computer. I couldn’t deal. Avoidance had become my new modus operandi.

With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have known something was up when you didn’t ask any follow-up questions after confirming receipt of my emails. It’s bad enough we postponed this while you were finishing grad school, but now you’ve given us a deadline of May.” He shook his head. “Or really April to give you time to get back to the West Coast to settle in before your new job starts.”

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