Laura sighed. “You’re probably right. I’ll give it one month.”

“And then what? We can’t afford to have someone check in on her daily. She can’t manage on her own. Since the accident—”

“Which he caused,” she interjected.

“Frankie did everything. He cooked, he did laundry, he cleaned the house. He even—”

“Look, I didn’t come here to be a damn maid.”

“Laura…we talked about this. You’re leaving an apartment you could no longer afford. This is a win for you. Mom pays the bills, Mom pays for groceries…you cook and do her laundry.”

“Just because I’ve hit a rough spot doesn’t mean I need to mooch off Mom. This is a temporary arrangement. As soon as I get another book deal, I’m out of here.”

“Of course.”

“You said that too quickly,” she accused.

“I did not. This will give you more time to write.”

Laura wrinkled up her nose. “More time? How do you figure? I’ll be cooking—which I hate—and cleaning and doing the freakin’ laundry!”

“Well…you’re in a mood.”

“That’s because I’m stuck here against my will!”

“Can I help it if I have a family to take care of? A husband? Twins? A job?”

“You’re patronizing me!”

Carla laughed. “Okay, yeah. I guess I am. But you’re overreacting. You just need to give it a chance. It will do you good—both of you—to spend time together.”

“I hate you.”

“Now I know you don’t mean that. You have a good week, a good weekend. I’ll see you next Thursday. I’ll bring pizza or something.”

“I still hate you.”

“I love you, sis.”

“Love you too,” she murmured as she tossed her phone onto the passenger’s seat. She leaned back, staring at the house. She could do this. Carla was right. She and her mother used to be close. She and her mother used to talk. In fact, in those six months after her father had died, they’d talked almost daily.

Then Frankie came into the picture. She honestly didn’t know if she hated him because he was an obnoxious jerk or if she hated him because he was living in her dad’s house, sleeping in her dad’s bed.

“Or both.”

Well, she couldn’t hide in her car forever. She got out, then grabbed a couple of clothes bags. She hadn’t been here in seven years. Who knew what her old bedroom looked like? Frankie probably turned it into a game room or something.