This time we bring boxes, bags, and a couple of people to help us move what we’re donating. Zeke doesn't understand why his mother didn’t get rid of his father’s belongings.
I do.
She never got past the denial stage. She didn’t grieve.
I’m not sure what kind of person she was, but I believe that she didn’t handle negative emotions well enough.
It’s like the house remained untouched, waiting for his parents to come back. The first time we visited, I didn’t see the creepiness underneath the house. It’s a ghost house filled with painful memories. It makes sense why Zeke doesn’t want to stay here.
I hired a P.I. to find out what happened to the lady that was supposed to take care of him. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the woman was married to a sex offender. The state denied her custody of Zeke. My poor guy has terrible luck.
At this point, Zeke has all the closure he needs from his childhood. If only he would decide what to do with all the properties he owns. I’m fine managing all of them, along with the companies he owns.
“We can start remodeling the house,” he says as we pack his mother’s art room.
We’re saving the artwork in a storage unit. The furniture and most of his parents’ clothes are going to The Coop. Tristan is going to use some of it and sell the rest.
“All of it?” I ask, wondering if he’s going to do something with this room.
He nods. “If I sell it, I don’t think the new owners will appreciate the asphalt-like flooring.”
“We can market it as a workshop.”
He looks at me and shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking, ‘This could be your house, Zeke.’ It’s not. I want to build my family home—if I ever have a family.”
“This place has a good foundation,” I say, afraid that he might shut me down, but seriously, where is he going to find a lot as big as this one? “We could demolish it and then build a new place to your liking.”
He shakes his head.
“It’s a suggestion. This could be your workshop. The office is big enough to—"
“Eth, if you want the house, I’ll sell it to you. You can fix it in any way you want. Just don’t ask me to be a part of the renovations.”
Or to live here with you, he doesn’t finish.
“I’ll get someone to work on the kitchen and the outdated bathrooms. We’ll refloor this, and when you’re ready, we will put it on the market.”
“You’re thinking I’m wasting a great space, but I’d rather live somewhere else.”
“Even when Hannah lives a house away?”
He nods. “Tucker lives in another state, and he’s still part of the group. It’s okay to be apart.”
I brought up Hannah to see if I can convince him. Like him, I don’t need to live next door to her. It’s just that this location is perfect. I can see the appeal of living in a house that’s secluded and yet not far from the city.
“How about the other houses?”
“You said we could lease them, right?”
I nod.
“Let’s do that and donate the profits to The Coop.”
He’s ready to make some decisions, and I’m here to make everything happen. So, I ask, “How about the companies?”
“You’re pushing it,” he warns me.
“No, I’m helping you close this chapter,” I argue.
I could spend the next fifty years managing everything, but one day we’ll be gone, and someone will have to take charge of them. I need him to see the big picture. He’s talking about the future of all his employees.
“If you and Tucker are okay running them, let’s keep them. As you said, they might be something that my children can have. If not, we’ll sell them later.”
The way he speaks of them as if money doesn’t matter is fascinating. Even when we were teenagers, his only pet peeve was that he was treated poorly. None of his foster parents fed him well, dressed him appropriately, or treated him well. It wasn’t about living in a house as big as this one or having the latest toy, but the love he never received.
“It’s funny how detached you are from material shit. You choose to drive a Jeep, live in a studio instead of a mansion, and—"
“Balance,” he says. “I only hold onto those I love and use what I need. I can live with the rest, but I don’t feel like it’s necessary.”
“Are you holding onto me?”
The way he looks at me sets my skin on fire. He nods. “Loosely. At least until the storm passes.”
“You still think there’s a storm coming?”
“Yep. There’s that scent in the air. It’s hard to explain, but I need us to be like we are right now when it comes. Can you live with that?”
“I can live with anything as long as you’re close.”
Thank you, he mouths.
I want to know what it is that he senses, but I don’t push it. I’ll just be here beside him, anchoring him.
Chapter Thirty
From: ZJH <[email protected]>
To: EDK <[email protected]>
Subject: Invitation to ‘the wedding’
I received my invitation today. I don’t plan on going, but I guess we should send them a present. I noticed they aren’t registered. What are we supposed to give them?
Are you going?
I wasn’t ready to be a preschool or kindergarten teacher. Those kids are too advanced for my poor brain. My decision to get a master’s degree in education and become a college professor seems more sensible than anyone thinks.
This cute five-year-old asked me, “What’s a vegetarian?”
I gave her a straightforward answer—people who only eat vegetables. I didn’t want to go into more detail or give her the difference between vegan and…well, you get the idea.
Then this smartass, sassy girl says, “So humanitarians only eat humans?”
Things went downhill. I’m not prepared to deal with these children.
Are we still on for dinner at Hannah’s place?
Z
P. S. Why did I say yes to this summer camp?
From: EDK <[email protected]>
To: ZJH <[email protected]>
Subject: Wedding
Do you want to go to the wedding?
Humanitarian vs. vegetarian is better than when a kid asked if you would marry his mom because she thinks you’re hot as fuck—in front of his dad.
I would pay good money to see your face when these children embarrass you.
About the present, we can send money to Hannah, and she’ll just buy something big and sign the card with our names.
I say let’s skip dinner at Hannah’s. Rocco and Sienna are going to be there, unless you’re ready to hang out with him and become his new best friend. By the way, he’s going on tour with Midnight Buzz. We might be in charge of Sienna. Isn’t that a treat?
Love,
Ethan
P.S. Why did you agree to be a part of the summer camp? Tucker’s cousin bamboozled you. Gracie is not six anymore. She’s twenty-seven. You can say no to her.