“Yes, I’m keeping chickens now. It’s legal according to city ordinances. I checked. Six hens and one rooster. All properly housed and cared for.”
“Chickens? Are you insane?”
“No. I’m becoming more self-sufficient. It’s very trendy right now. Urban farming.”
“Get rid of them before the realtor shows the house next week.”
“There’s not going to be a showing next week or any week. I’m not selling.”
His voice dropped to that dangerous register I remembered from childhood.
“We’ve been through this, Jade. You don’t have a choice.”
“Actually, I do. I spoke with a lawyer. Both owners have to sign off on a sale. I’m not signing anything.”
“Then I’ll force a petition sale through the courts.”
“Go ahead. That’ll take at least a year, probably longer. In the meantime, I’m living here with my dogs, my chickens, and a metal band that practices twice a week. I wonder how much Lillian will enjoy that environment with her 8-year-old twins.”
Silence stretched. I could practically hear him calculating, trying to find a new angle.
“Fine,” he said finally. “What do you want?”
“I want you to sign a quick claim deed, removing your name from my title. I’ll pay the remaining $11,000 from the loan immediately, including the interest we agreed on. Then we’re done.”
“That money was supposed to help your sister.”
“The money is for a loan you made to me, which I’m repaying in full. What you do with it afterward is your business, but this house is mine, and I’m keeping it.”
He hung up without another word.
Monday morning, Dexter’s formal letter arrived via certified mail at my parents’ house.
That same afternoon, Lillian appeared at my door, looking frazzled in a way I’d never seen. Her usually perfect makeup was smudged, and she’d clearly been crying.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice small.
I considered refusing, then stepped aside to let her in.
The dogs immediately swarmed her, tails wagging and noses investigating. She backed against the wall, clearly uncomfortable.
“Since when do you have dogs?”
“Since last week. Meet Bruno, Athena, and Dakota.”
Lillian’s eyes swept the living room, taking in the dog beds, the scattered toys, the water bowls.
“This place is a disaster.”
“It’s called actually living in a space rather than treating it like a museum. Did you need something, or did you just come to insult my housekeeping?”
She flinched.
“Dad says you’re refusing to sell.”
“That’s correct.”
“But we need this house. Kenneth and I can’t afford anything bigger without the equity from selling the condo and moving here. The twins are sharing a bedroom, Jade. They’re 8 years old now. Do you know how hard that is?”
I thought about the bedroom I’d shared with her growing up. How she’d gotten the bigger closet and the better desk while I’d made do with handme-down furniture.
“Lots of siblings share rooms. They’ll survive.”
“This is different. Kenneth’s parents were going to help us with a second property and investment thing, but only if we upgraded our living situation first. Dad was supposed to help by giving us this house for basically nothing. He said we’d only have to pay him back $50,000, which is way under market value.”
Something cold settled in my stomach.
“$50,000? This house is worth $300,000 at least. What was I supposed to get out of this deal?”