Chapter 19: Confessions

Dana

“This is more than just us,” I told Mike, a grin spreading across my face. We’d been framing the problem wrong, thinking of it as two separate problems. “We have two families, each with a couple teens, both of them needing wheelchair-accessible housing in our town, preferably as close as possible.”

He shook his head in confusion. “Why—? I mean, why are the Florezes...?”

I went on, “You mentioned you pass a couple new housing developments on your way to work. Are any of them aimed at retirees?”

He blinked, then comprehension seeped in. “As in, designed for senior residents with limited mobility?”

I nodded back. Clever boy. He smiled.

Four websites and three phone calls later, we were on our way to Teri’s house.

It was time to push. I smiled wryly to myself as I buckled up. Just like with my girlfriend before Teri, I’d taught myself bad habits. I needed to stop doing that. I needed to be true to me.

Mike and I found Manuel Florez seated near the corner of their house on a folding chair, resting his booted foot on a wet-dry vac. Bangs and bonks came from an open basement window, followed by mutual complaints from Ricky and Sam.

“Good morning,” Manuel said. “You’re about fifteen minutes too late to catch her.”

“We know,” I said. I handed him a slip of paper.

He looked at it for a couple seconds longer than it took to read it. “What is this?”

“The address of a house being built off Cortaro Road, intended to be a show model for the development but available for purchase. According to the developer, it’s designed for residents with limited mobility and can easily be adapted to wheelchairs.”

He studied me with brown eyes so light they were almost golden. There was strength in them, kept hidden for the moment. Every time I talked with him, I glimpsed why Teri respected her father—though for her it was almost to the point of fear. “I appreciate the information but I have to wonder, why are you bringing this to my attention?”

Mike’s turn. “Two plots, one nextdoor and one directly behind it, have not yet been sold or developed.”

He blinked. Our parents all became friends after we three got together—he knew what was up and could connect the dots. “You are suggesting we have a mutual interest here.”

I nodded. “It would, what’s the word, mitigate certain stresses, if our families were closer.”

“I see.” After a moment, he made a small sound of bitter amusement. “I have to admit, moving would ease some concerns here—our efforts to make this old pile habitable in the medium term have not been very successful.”

As if to emphasize the point, a loud crash in the basement was followed by a howl of pain and cussing from Ricky.

Manuel visibly chose to ignore his son’s language, and instead asked, “Have you taken a look yet?”

I shook my head, but it was Mike who answered. “That’s the next step. Want to go now?”

A small smile. “Sure. I believe we all could use a break.”

Manual and Ricky rode with us. (Sam stayed home—she was leaving for UNLV’s training camp in a month, so had less stake in a new house.) After a half-hour and a walkthrough of the construction site with the developer and an architect, we had a proposal for our parents. Mike and I typed it up on his tablet and emailed it using my phone as a hotspot, to both their personal and work accounts.

Mom & Dad,

Know this: we both love you no matter what, and do not want to stand in the way of your love.

As you know, we have significant concerns about our families moving in together. These concerns could be largely addressed if we were to purchase, as a family, the land at the address below. We recommend that you consult with Manuel and Consuela on this, as they are contemplating purchasing the house next door. Either of the two floor plans attached, both available from the developer, would work well for Mike, especially the second when modified to combine the two end bedrooms into one.

We can meet here at 11:30 with the developer and then go out to lunch together.

Dana & Mike

It felt good to get something done.

Between meetings and consultations and visiting Consuela and, oh yeah Mike had work all afternoon and I had a walk-through of the Escorts matching app with Celia from San Diego, and then dinner as a joint family (Mike and I cooked, to give Mom more time to grade), we didn’t push Teri as hard as we might have. We texted as events unfolded and tried calling a couple times, but everything went unanswered.

Running away indeed. It was time to corner her.

Yes, we could have pushed harder—bad habits and all that. Maybe should have. But her family was busy too, I knew, and we needed more background from Cal and Zoe. By the time things were square away on our end, it was too late to effectively corner Teri in person—Mike was even more bleary than me. It would have to be tomorrow morning.

I hoped that wouldn’t be too late.

Teri

As a rest from touristing, Zoe and I spent Thursday in my room, blazing through Cal’s edits for our sixth Downstar Runner book, Weightless Angels. This was a fix-up, using three already published novellas, previously ebook only, plus a new fourth one that wove together all three threads. Cal had correctly pointed out it wasn’t working as is—that we really needed a real frame story to anchor the weaving. She had made a valiant stab at drafting the framing bits, but structural plotting isn’t really her strength as a writer.

I, on the other pseudopod, am an excellent plotter, if I do say myself—and Zoe is even better at thematic layering. Together we expanded Cal’s initial frame-scene to give more context, rewrote the first interstitial frame, replaced the other two with new ones, and added a final, very short ending frame, plus started revisions to the new novella, in a couple places, to match it up with the frame.

All in all, a solid day’s work together, even if everything still needed polish. I felt better than I had for a week. Until, that is, I was reminded of why I felt so bad.

Sam stomped up to my attic bedroom a little after 3 in the afternoon with a summons. “Family meeting at the hospital.”

I looked up from the double-size writing desk we’d rigged using a spare panel of plywood and my workout bench. “Do we have to—?” I started to say, but Sam interrupted, “Mandatory.”

That did not sound good. A meeting with Mother and her doctors? And why would I be needed?

“Go on, luv,” Zoe said. “I’ll keep working. Give your Mum a gentle hug for me.”

I got up stiffly, stretched, and silently followed Sam downstairs. I ended up driving—thanks to the custom-job for Mike (ouch), Baby was the best vehicle for Father’s booted ankle.

Mother was looking better, now that her infection was under control. It hadn’t been a bad one, but in her condition any hit to the system still hurt. I hugged her even more carefully than usual.

Father unrolled some architectural plans on her lap. “Here’s what we’re looking at.” As he pointed out features, I slowly grasped that they were for a ranch-style house, with wide doorways and open rooms, perfect for—I glanced at Mother. For what she’d need for the months of recovery and physical therapy. What on earth had been going on?

“This looks good,” Mother finally said. “How’s the yard?”

“Front is a little larger than our current place—we could landscape that into something interesting. The back, I’m thinking a large deck, extended halfway to the wash, here, with an inset hot-tub.”

“I’d like that,” Ricky said with a smile. Sam nodded.

I licked my lips. “One question. Where is this?”

Father nodded. “A new development off Cortaro, less than a kilometer past the high school. It’s being built now, and if we take it without structural alterations, it’ll be ready to move into by the time your mother is ready to come home.”

Sam nodded more vigorously. “There’s no way we’ll get our old place ready for a wheelchair by then, not without hella help.” She glanced at Ricky. “Like a real contractor.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Ricky agreed.

“Indeed,” Father said.

Okay, that explained some things, but— “Why here?”

“Aside from the timing of it being available?” Father looked—oh crap, disappointed in me? What the heck? “Helen and Matt are considering the house next door.”