Linnea felt a profound sense of disappointment. “I just thought, given that we’re both staying at home… together… we might make it a bit more enjoyable. Get a bottle of wine from time to time. Share ideas.”

Anna just dove into her granola without replying.

Linnea stiffened, anger bubbling at Anna’s thinly veiled contrariness. “Well, then, as for the rest…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll bring you the bills for utilities and all at the beginning of the month. I should have April’s bills coming in any day. In the meantime, I will get staples. If you’d like to check the list, of course you can.”

“Hey, don’t be mad just because I don’t want to cook with you. I hate cooking.”

“Okay. I get that. What is it you do like to do? The house needs a thorough cleaning every week, and I hate to tell you, we don’t have a maid.”

“I’m good with that. Just tell me what to do.”

“But, Anna, I don’t want to always tell you what to do. I didn’t ask you to live here to have to take care of you.”

Her face flushed. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“But you are, by asking me to tell you what to do. Hope is gone. I’m done being a nanny. I want you to take an interest in living here. In the house. Hey, even me. I live here too. Being a roommate means a certain level of concern for the well-being of the person you share space with. We share this house. We live together.”

Anna’s face clouded and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s never been my experience. I’ve always lived alone, or with a group of people who barely knew each other. We put our names on our food in the fridge, tried to find time at the stove or the washing machine, and waved at each other as we cooked in the kitchen. Our own food.”

That sounded horrible to Linnea. “Was that college? We’ve grown beyond that, I hope.” She pursed her lips. “I’m curious… who did the dishes?”

Anna snorted a short laugh and twisted her mouth in a grin. “Well, we were all supposed to do our own dishes, but you know guys. They tended to leave them in the sink and say they’d do them later. Ditto with the housekeeping.”

“That won’t work here,” Linnea said simply. “I have a thing about dishes in the sink. Cockroaches. They’re real out here on the island. And I don’t like a dirty house.”

“Cool. No dishes left in the sink. Got it.” She scooped out another spoon of granola.

Linnea licked her lips. “Anna, look. This was my grandmother’s beloved house. And Cara loves this beach house more than the grand house she’s living in now. And so do I. We treasure it. We take care of it.” She paused, clenching her hands tight in her lap. “If you don’t feel you can embrace that, then…” She shrugged. “This is not going to work.”