The Magnolia Sisters (Magnolia Sisters #1) - Michelle Major Page 0,14
was a bit of a slob.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is hoarder.”
“That happened more recently,” Carrie said quietly. “I moved out five years ago and basically stopped coming to the house. I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”
“The neighbors didn’t complain?”
“I’m sure they talked about him and his collections, as he liked to call them. No one would say anything to his face. Dad still wielded a lot of power around here, and he wasn’t opposed to making life difficult for someone who got on his bad side.”
“Such an utterly charming man.”
“Yes, when he wanted to be,” Carrie said, purposely ignoring Avery’s sarcasm. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d check out the house.”
“What happened to it being weird?” Judgment laced Carrie’s soft tone.
“I’m not moving in,” Avery said, not bothering to hide her defensiveness. “But I figure we need to take stock of all the assets before the meeting at the bank. It will help if I know what kind of work needs to be done on each property.”
“The house doesn’t belong to you,” Carrie countered, brushing at the front of her T-shirt.
“I get that.” Avery tried to imbue her tone with an equal mix of patience and empathy. “I thought I could spearhead the effort to sell.”
“What if Meredith doesn’t want to sell the house?”
“Why wouldn’t she? She doesn’t seem to want anything to do with our new sisterly connection.”
“She wants the ranch, which belongs to me now. Maybe I’ll ask her to trade the house for the land out by the beach.”
“So it’s a ranch, or is it beach property?” Avery asked.
“Both.” Carrie placed the gloves on one of the rungs of the ladder. “There are photos of Last Acre in the house. You might as well come in since you’re here, but I’ll warn you it’s not pretty.”
“Based on the backyard, I don’t expect it to be.”
Carrie arched a delicate brow. “It’s worse than you think.”
Before Avery could answer, her sister moved past her toward a set of French doors at the far end of the patio, under an awning attached to the house that, like most everything else belonging to Niall Reed, had seen better days.
She noticed that heavy curtains covered every window on the ground floor, blocking the view into the house.
“Was Niall a vampire, as well?” She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head as she entered the back door.
“Of course not. Don’t move forward until I get a light turned on.”
“Then why is it so dark?” She squinted as her eyes tried to adjust to the difference between the glaring sun outside and the gloomy interior.
“Less overwhelming that way. Ready?”
A chandelier flicked on overhead, and Avery gasped. “What happened here?” she whispered.
“I told you I hadn’t been to the house in years. Dad and I argued, and it was easier for both of us to see each other at the gallery or my place.” Carrie’s voice was apologetic, as if the mess that surrounded them was her fault. “He’d always been a pack rat. Things got out of hand.”
“You think?” Avery shook her head. It was like she’d walked into an episode of a hoarding show on cable television. Newspapers and old magazines were piled in four-foot-high stacks all around the room, which looked like it had functioned as a den at one time. In addition to the piles of paper, there were art supplies, old easels and a variety of antiques jumbled on every available surface.
A slightly hysterical laugh burst from Carrie, and she clasped a hand over her mouth. “I know it’s silly, but that’s why I’m working on the gutters. The rest of this is too overwhelming. I tried to start in the dining room the morning after he died, but hours later it was still so full of stuff.”
“You need to call the junk people.” Avery walked forward carefully. A narrow path had been carved out amid the hoard. It felt like walking through a cave,