On Friday after I got off work, he picked me up at home. I was waiting for him on the porch with my overnight bag. Mitch hadn’t seen my house before, so we wasted time as I gave him the short tour.
Abe, Connor, and I had grown up in the house where I now lived alone. We’d been there with our mother until she split, then with our grandfather and dad. Grandpa passed within a few years. Then it was just the four of us, with the ghost of our youngest brother, Dominic, who’d died in a skiing accident.
My brother Abe held us together with an iron hand, just as he did the construction business. Our dad was useless. So the house, until it fell to me, pretty much moldered away with nobody updating or fixing it.
When I inherited it, I pulled out the kitchen and bathrooms. New everything. That too
