Part 1
Chapter 1 — The House With My Name on It.
“Those boxes need to come downstairs, Eleanor.”
Brooke blocked the upstairs doorway with one hand pressed against the frame.
Eleanor stopped with a cardboard box against her chest.
“I thought I could leave these here until tomorrow.”
“We need the space.”
Brooke glanced past her toward the walk-in closet.
Three of Eleanor’s boxes sat inside beside Brooke’s new shoe racks.
“They’re David’s things,” Eleanor said.
“I know whose things they are.”
Brooke’s voice softened, but only slightly.
“That’s why I’m trying to be careful.”
Eleanor tightened her grip on the box.
Behind Brooke, the bedroom stretched wider than Eleanor’s entire downstairs space.
Brandon crossed the hallway carrying two garment bags.
“Mom, I can take that.”
“I have it.”
“You shouldn’t be lifting everything yourself.”
Brooke turned toward him.
“The movers are gone, Brandon.”
“I noticed.”
“Then help with the rest.”
He set the garment bags down and reached for Eleanor’s box.
Eleanor didn’t release it.
“For the record, I still think this room would have made more sense for me.”
Brooke’s expression sharpened.
“Because it’s larger?”
“Because I helped pay for it.”
Silence landed between them.
Brandon looked toward the staircase.
Brooke gave a short laugh.
“Nobody said you didn’t.”
“I didn’t say anyone did.”
“Then what are we discussing?”
Eleanor finally let Brandon take the box.
His eyes met hers for barely a second.
Then they dropped.
Brooke stepped into the bedroom and opened another closet door.
“I need both of these,” she said. “My things won’t fit downstairs.”
Eleanor looked at Brandon.
He adjusted his hands beneath the box.
“The downstairs room is nice, Mom.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He swallowed.
Brooke turned around.
“What question?”
Eleanor held Brandon’s gaze.
He looked away again.
“No question,” Eleanor said.
Brooke smiled.
“Good.”
She reached for the bedroom door.
Eleanor noticed Brandon watching Brooke’s hand instead of her face.
When Brooke closed the door, he stood motionless with David’s box in his arms.
“Brandon?”
“Yeah?”
“You have something you want to say?”
His fingers tightened against the cardboard.
“No.”
Eleanor waited.
He still wouldn’t look at her.
“You moved my photographs.”
Eleanor stood in front of the living room console, staring at three pale rectangles in the dust.
Brooke kept arranging white ceramic vases.
“I relocated them.”
“To where?”
“The hall closet.”
Eleanor turned.
“All of them?”
“They didn’t work in here.”
“They’re family photographs.”
“I know what they are.”
Brooke shifted a vase two inches to the left.
A framed photograph of Brooke and Brandon remained centered on the mantel.
Eleanor pointed toward it.
“That one works?”
Brooke followed her finger.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Brooke exhaled through her nose.
“Eleanor, please don’t make decorating personal.”
“You removed my husband from the room.”
“I removed photographs.”
“David was in every one.”
Brandon entered carrying his laptop.
He slowed when he saw them facing each other.
Brooke spoke first.
“Tell your mother I’m not erasing anybody.”
Brandon looked at Eleanor.
Then he saw the empty spaces on the console.
“Where are Dad’s pictures?”
“The closet,” Eleanor said.
Brooke folded her arms.
“Temporarily.”
Brandon’s jaw moved once.
He said nothing.
Eleanor watched him.
“Would you like one in your office?”
His face changed.
Only for a moment.
“Sure.”
Brooke looked at him.
He immediately added, “If there’s room.”
Eleanor stared at her son.
“There’s room for one photograph.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Brooke picked up another vase.
“This house needs some consistency.”
Eleanor’s eyes shifted toward the leather chair near the window.
A strip of blue painter’s tape had been stuck across one arm.
She walked toward it.
“What’s this?”
Brooke didn’t answer immediately.
Eleanor touched the tape.
MARK FOR STORAGE had been written across it.
“Brooke.”
“It’s too heavy for the room.”
“It was David’s chair.”
“I know.”
“He sat there every night.”
Brooke lowered her voice.
“And now he doesn’t.”
Brandon closed his laptop.
“Brooke.”
“What?”
“That was unnecessary.”
She looked at him for several seconds.
Then her attention moved back to Eleanor.
“I’m trying to make this place function.”
Eleanor peeled the tape from the leather.
Brooke watched her fold it into her palm.
Neither woman looked away.
“Janice is coming at eleven.”
Eleanor placed two coffee cups on the kitchen counter.
Brooke looked up from her phone.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“She’s already coming?”
Eleanor stopped.
“She’s my friend, Brooke. She’s coming for coffee.”
Brooke lowered her phone.
“My mother may stop by.”
“At eleven?”
“I don’t know exactly when.”
“Then perhaps they’ll meet.”
Brooke stared at her.
“That isn’t really the point.”
Eleanor waited.
“What is the point?”
Brandon opened the refrigerator and stared inside longer than necessary.
Brooke glanced at him.
He kept his back turned.
“I just need advance notice when people come over.”
Eleanor’s hand stayed on the coffee pot.
“People?”
“Guests.”
“Janice isn’t a contractor.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then say what you meant.”
Brooke locked her phone and placed it facedown.
“This is our home too.”
Eleanor’s expression didn’t change.
“I’m aware.”
Brandon quietly closed the refrigerator.
Brooke continued.
“I shouldn’t walk downstairs and find strangers sitting in my living room.”
“Janice has known Brandon since he was thirteen.”
“That doesn’t mean I know her.”
Eleanor looked toward Brandon.
“You know her.”
“Of course.”
“Would you consider her a stranger?”
His shoulders stiffened.
“No.”
Brooke turned toward him.
Again, his eyes dropped.
Eleanor noticed.
Brooke picked up her phone.
“I’m asking for courtesy.”
Eleanor removed one coffee cup from the counter.
“Fine.”
Brooke relaxed slightly.
“I’ll ask Janice to come another day.”
“I appreciate that.”
Eleanor put the second cup away.
Brooke returned to her screen.
Then she wrinkled her nose.
“What are you making?”
“Chicken soup.”
“With garlic?”
“Yes.”
“The smell stays forever.”
Eleanor slowly set down the wooden spoon.
“David loved garlic.”
Brooke’s thumb stopped moving across her phone.
Brandon looked at Eleanor.
Something passed over his face.
Guilt, maybe.
Then Brooke spoke.
“Could you open a window?”
Eleanor stared at the simmering pot.
“No.”
Brooke looked up.
Eleanor picked up the spoon again.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Brandon’s phone vibrated.
He read the screen, glanced toward Brooke, and turned it facedown without answering.
“I need a favor.”
Brandon stood in Eleanor’s doorway with an envelope in one hand.
Eleanor looked up from the checkbook on her desk.
“How much?”
He gave an embarrassed smile.
“That obvious?”
“Lately?”
He entered and closed the door halfway behind him.
“The electric bill jumped.”
Eleanor removed her glasses.
“I paid the water bill last week.”
“I know.”
“And the plumber.”
“I know.”
“And half the groceries.”
Brandon sat on the edge of the chair.
“I’ll pay you back.”
Eleanor watched him.
“You always say that.”
His smile disappeared.
“I’m trying, Mom.”
She reached for her checkbook.
“How much?”
“Four eighty.”
Eleanor’s pen stopped.
“That’s an electric bill?”
“Brooke likes the house warmer.”
“In July?”
“I’m not looking for a fight.”
“I didn’t start one.”
Brandon rubbed both hands over his face.
“I know.”
Eleanor wrote the check.
Before tearing it free, she looked at him.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah.”
“That answer came quickly.”
He forced a laugh.
“You taught me confidence.”
“No. Your father taught you that.”
Brandon’s face tightened.
Eleanor handed him the check.
He folded it once.
Then twice.
“Brooke also wants to talk to you about the SUV.”
“What about it?”
“Her financing.”
Eleanor leaned back.
“No.”
“She needs a co-signer.”
“Brandon.”
“She says the old car won’t be safe once we have a baby.”
“You’re not expecting a baby.”
“Not yet.”
Eleanor stared at him.
He looked toward the desk.
A folder sat open beside her checkbook.
Closing documents filled the top section.
His gaze lingered there.
Then he looked away.
Eleanor noticed.
“Why are you looking at that?”
“What?”
“The house file.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He stood too quickly.
“Forget the SUV.”
“Brandon.”
He reached the doorway.
Brooke appeared behind him.
She looked from Eleanor to the open folder.
Her expression changed for half a second.
Then she smiled.
“Everything okay?”
Eleanor closed the folder.
“I was about to ask him the same thing.”
Brooke’s hand settled on Brandon’s arm.
He didn’t move.
Neither of them answered.
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