to college, everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything you think is important.”
“Melanie, wow.” She actually started feeling hopeful, a huge change from how she usually felt about Melanie’s boyfriends, which generally ranked somewhere around despair. “How long have you known him?”
“Long time. A month. Maybe more.”
“Really.” Hey, Melanie even waited to tell Alana about this one, instead of jumping into I-met-someone-and-love-him after the first date. “This is terrific. I’m happy for you. What’s his name?”
“Sawyer Kern.”
Even that was normal. Not Spike or Screech, or that one guy who simply went by Dude. “Good name.”
“You’ll love him.” Melanie blew out a breath, which sounded like a storm blast through the phone. “Um, so, I just … Uh, how are things there?”
Alana’s eyes narrowed. Um, so, she just…what? “Fine. Nearly packed. Was there something else you were going to say?”
“Oh. Well. It’s just a little thing.” She laughed nervously. No, it was going to be a big thing. “Ye-e-es?”
“I wanted to tell you. We’re…moving in together.”
Uh-oh. Yellow alert. “In Gran and Grandad’s house?”
“It’s our house now, Alana.”
“I know, but it …” She gave up. Even though her grandparents sold the house to her and Melanie when they moved to Florida, the place would always be theirs in her heart. “Okay, into our house?”
“Yes. I mean, of course you’ll have to say it’s okay.”
“When is he moving in?”
“Um.tomorrow.”
Orange alert. Waiting until the last second to tell Alana? Or did this Sawyer guy wait until the last second to ask Melanie? “You’ve known him a month? Is that…maybe…rushing things?”
“I know, it seems fast. But it’s also really practical.”
“Shared bedroom saves gas money?” Another nervous laugh. “No. He, um, needed a place to live. So I thought this was an obvious solution. To help him out.”
“Ah.” Homeless guy. Super. Alana let her head bonk back against a cabinet so she was staring up at the smooth, white ceiling. Very uncomfortable position, but it fit the conversation. “Did he get evicted?”
“No, nothing like that. Just…between places, I guess.”
She guessed. “He’s paying half the expenses, utilities, property tax, etc.?”
“Ye-es, Alana.” She sounded like an exasperated teenager. “He promised to share all expenses.”
“Did he promise in writing?”
Her sister scoffed. Alana bit her lip. Don’t push too hard. “What does he do?”
“Oh. Well…”
Red alert. Alana closed her eyes wearily. Male stripper? Female impersonator? Drug dealer?
“He was some kind of lawyer, I guess, but it was too much pressure, so he’s between jobs at the moment.”
Even better. “How long has he been unemploy—”
“Geez, Alana. I knew you’d do this. I’m a grown-up, remember? Twenty-six? And you’re not my mother.”
Oh, no. The last of Alana’s hope evaporated. Melanie went on the attack like that when she was feeling defensive. She had something to hide about this guy. Something Alana wouldn’t like. “Yes, it’s your life. But it’s also half my house.”
“I told you, Alana, he’s a great guy, not like the others.”
“Really.” Alana pulled her head up from the cabinet. “The last ones were ‘not like the others,’ too, except for one thing—they were just like the others.”
“Alana…”
She took a deep breath. She’d moved away from her beloved house and her beloved city partly because of the way she and Melanie got along. Or didn’t. That and a job opportunity managing luxury condos for a man who’d known her Grandad. “Okay, I’m sorry. You know I’m just being—”
“Smothering.”
“No, cautious. Can you blame me?” She kept her voice gentle. “Seriously? For all I know he’s planning to marry you and weasel you out of your half of the house, or take it over for…I don’t know, something bad. Invite creepy friends in at all hours who’ll trash the place or—”
“He’s not like that.”
“You said that about the last one. The ex-con who tried to steal the family silver.” She shoved herself away from the cabinet, stalked into the living room. Her sister didn’t just push her buttons; she hurled grenades and exploded them. In spite of Gran and Grandad’s best efforts, Melanie had grown up wild like Alana and Melanie’s mother.
Every time Melanie used poor judgment—or, more accurately, no judgment—Alana was catapulted back to the fear and bewilderment of her rocky first decade with Mom, before Gran and Grandad took her and her sister in and introduced them to foreign ideas like good nutrition and routine and stability.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. I promise. This guy could run for office.”
“Which means he has affairs, hires prostitutes and/or propositions guys in bathrooms?”
“Ha, ha, ha. You know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do.” Calm, Alana, calm. Who knew? Maybe Sawyer was okay. Melanie was a grown-up; her life was her own.
But that beautiful house was half Alana’s and, legal issues aside, she hated the idea of some guy living there who didn’t belong, didn’t understand how precious a place it was.
Or was Alana being selfish? Unreasonable? She could be both, she knew. If only Melanie didn’t have such a dismal record. “Can you just date him a little longer, get to know him better before he moves in?”
“I’ve known him a month, what more do you want?”
“Two months? Four? Eight? A year?”
“He needs a place now. I’ve got one.”
“We’ve got one.” Alana sank down onto the one space on her couch not heaped with boxes and tried to calculate. She could put off traveling to Florida by a day or two. She’d wanted to get to Orlando a couple of weeks early before starting her new job, but she didn’t absolutely have to be there yet. Her furniture was going into storage regardless, while she stayed with Gran and
