She didn’t look surprised when I showed up at the door, my arms crossed. The Trio ran over, squealing, covering me with fluttery kisses, their mingled perfume so much like home I had to blink the burn away.
My mother watched me for a moment from her spot by the sink in the kitchen while the Trio backed away, waiting to see what would happen. “You tried?” she said finally. “And?”
“It didn’t take.”
“No?”
“No.”
She pursed her lips. “I suppose you’ll be wanting Little House, then?” No. I don’t know if I could handle that.
Little House had been built by my father. He had thought it would be a place for
a workshop, a garage where he could have his own space to do with what he wished. But the moment he started building, he knew it was going to be bigger than that. Set further down the road than Big House, it had become my father’s life work. And since life doesn’t stop because he had something that he loved doing, it took us six years to finish. The hardwood was placed and varnished, the white paint with blue trim completed. Electricity and plumbing done. When finished, it was two bedrooms, one bathroom. An office. It was small. But then it too became mine. After.
“It’s like a littler version of our house,” I’d said once he’d finished. “Oh, is it?” he’d said, grinning at me. He reached over and grabbed me, putting me into a headlock while he rubbed my head with his knuckles. “A little house, huh?”
“Size doesn’t matter,” I managed to choke out in laughter.
He’d lost it then, and by the time he was able to wipe the tears from his eyes, Little House it had been named.
I gestured toward the Trio, unsure of what they’d want. Unsure of what to say. Mary and Christie had been staying there since they arrived. I couldn’t find the words to say no, no I don’t want Little House. I can’t stay there. I can’t live there. I don’t want to live there.
She shook her head. “They can stay here with me.”
I balked. “There’s not room here for all of you. It’d make more sense to just let me go back to my old room. They can keep using Little House.”
“Benji, it’s okay to—” Christie started, but she stopped when Mom raised her hand toward her, causing her to fall silent.
“It’s yours,” my mother said, her voice hard. “Big Eddie built it for you. You’re obviously grown up enough to gamble with your future, so you will take the house and you will live in it. You will clean it, you will handle the upkeep. You will pay for the utilities. You want to grow up so fast, fine. You’ll act like an adult. That’s what you want? Fine. Have at it. Do what you want.”
The Trio tried to leave the room quietly, but Nina, ever the klutz, ran into the door, causing it to fly open, smashing into a kitchen chair that fell over and skittered across the tile. My eyes never left my mother’s and hers stayed on mine. “Sorry,” Nina said hastily.
“Good God, Nina!” Mary huffed. “So much for a smooth exit. We’re trying to not make this any more awkward than it already is!”
“Really,” Christina said. “Do you have to run into everything?”
“I didn’t see it!”
“You never do,” Mary said, their voices fading as they left the kitchen.
I waited.
Lola Green broke eye contact first and moved to the center island and pulled open her knickknack drawer. She dug through it for a moment, her brow furrowed. She sighed when she found what she was looking for and placed it on the counter in front of her and stepped back again.
She waited.
The silver key reflected a beam of sunlight pouring in from a window and flashed over my vision, and it was like my father was standing next to me. I could hear him chuckling on his way to breaking into full laughter. Everything about him reflected back at me from that key, that tiny key that was meant to be mine.
A little house, huh?
Yes.
I sighed and closed the distance to slide it into my hand. For a moment, I felt as if there was a warmth there, a flash of heat. I shook my head. Just from sitting in the sun, I told myself.
I didn’t know what else to say, if there was anything left that would make things right again. I had turned and started to walk away when