She fisted both hands, pumped them in the air, and did a little dance.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Parker knocked on Austin’s bedroom door. “Family meeting in fifteen minutes.”

She moved on to Mallory’s door now that she was home. “Fifteen minutes.”

Austin poked his head out of his room. “What’s going on?”

She marched by. “Finish up the game or put it on hold.”

“Just tell me.”

She waved a hand in the air and ignored him. He’d stay in his room and play video games until two on a Sunday if left on his own.

Fifteen minutes later Austin flopped on the sofa, clearly irritated that he was called away from his fun.

“What’s this all about?” Mallory did some flopping of her own.

Parker sat cross-legged on the oversize ottoman in the middle of the sectional that dominated their den. “I wanted to talk about some of the things Mrs. Hudson and I discussed.”

“You already said you weren’t looking for another job until spring.”

“We talked about more than that, Austin. We talked about long-term with the house.”

That got their attention.

“Okay . . . what about it?”

“She brought up what we kinda already knew about the condition and the optics of selling since the fire.”

“You said we were going to wait a year,” Austin said.

“I think we’re going to need more than a year. The county has a five-year agreement to come in and empty the basins once they’re filled whenever it’s needed during that time.”

“You wanna wait five years to sell?”

Parker shrugged. “It’s not only my decision. The trust clearly states that unless things weren’t financially sound, we were to keep the house until Austin is out of high school. Then at that point if we decided to sell, both your shares go into a trust until you’re twenty-two. We knew Mom and Dad’s money would peter out by next year at this time, so it made sense to consider selling.”

“What’s changed?” Mallory asked.

“Other than the fire dropped the value of the house by fifteen percent, nothing.”

“That’s a lot.”

“I’m not getting any money for five years, so the answer is easy. Keep the house until then,” Austin said.

“Sure, Austin . . . but the money to pay for it is going to be gone in a year, am I right?” Mallory asked.

“It’s a little longer than that, but yeah.”

“We’re screwed either way.” Scout jumped up on the couch and laid his head in Austin’s lap.

“Maybe not. But it’s time we start working together to keep things going. I can’t do it all.” Like she had been for two years.

“You want us to start paying our own bills, split the household expenses?” Mallory’s voice pitched.

Parker saw the worry on her sister’s face. “It’s the social security money that has kept us floating. In July, that’s gone. I suggest we divide that cost up and each month put it in the account to keep the bills paid.”

“Are you telling me I have to get a job?” Austin’s question sounded like an accusation.

“I’m saying we can’t keep pulling money out of the general pot for the fun things in life like extra gas for unnecessary trips and In-N-Out burgers.”

“That sucks.”

“I had a job when I was your age,” Parker told him.

“I bet Mom and Dad paid for your gas.”

They did. Much as it pained her to say it, she did anyway. “They’re not here.”

Austin rolled his eyes and put on a great impression of a mistreated teen.

“Having Erin renting the guesthouse is a huge relief. And Tracy suggested we let the studios know about the house and property. They pay a premium for parking when they’re filming on the street. We may be able to make some extra money doing that, Austin.”

Mallory nodded. “What else can we do?”

Parker unfolded from where she sat and grabbed a notebook from the kitchen counter. She handed it over and sat back down. “That’s been our grocery bill for the last six months. What we don’t spend, we make.”

“We need to eat.” Yeah, Austin was butt hurt with the whole conversation.

“But we’re all guilty of not cooking and grabbing what’s easy. I’m not suggesting we completely change everything, but let’s each take one meal a week and make dinner from scratch. Mrs. Hudson’s pot roast lasted for two meals.”

“I can’t cook,” Mallory whined.

“I don’t think Hamburger Helper counts either, but we could all put in some effort. I pulled out Mom’s recipe box. I’ll do the shopping, you guys just tell me what you wanna cook each week. And since we’re all working, we all have to chip in.”

Austin handed the notebook to Mallory. “This all starts in July?”

“The bulk of it, yeah. I’m not saying you have to get a job until high school is over, Austin.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Austin said.

Mallory stood, ruffled Austin’s hair like she had when they were kids.

“Hey!”

“I can’t believe you’re almost eighteen.”

“I’ll take fourteen back with no bills any day.”

They were all silent for a few seconds, all thinking the same thing. When Austin was fourteen, their parents were still alive. “I would, too, Austin,” Parker told him.

The moisture in his eyes sparked hers to well up.

“Mom and Dad would want us to keep the house,” Mallory said.

“Lots of things can change in a year. Maybe we can rent out one of the rooms downstairs. Set up some RV parking for a neighbor. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

Austin sighed, put both hands on his knees like he was going to leave.

“One more thing? Mrs. Hudson invited us over for Thanksgiving.”

“One less meal we have to pay for.” Her brother gave two thumbs-up.

Mallory was a little more real. “You’ve only had one date with Colin, you sure you want to go over to his parents’ house for Thanksgiving?”

“Colin is awesome, and Mrs. Hudson can cook. What’s to think about?” Austin jumped off the couch, Scout followed.

“You sure?” Mallory asked Parker again.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, our loyalty is with you.”

Her sister’s words warmed her heart.

“Speak for yourself. I need some testosterone in my life. A house full of chicks is getting old.”

“Hey!” Parker chided.

“Kidding . . . I’m kidding. We done here? I wanna get back to my game.”

She waved him off.

When he disappeared around the corner, Mallory muttered, “He’s totally not kidding.”

We are a go for Thanksgiving. Parker texted Colin later that day.

She watched her phone, waited to see if he was going to respond right away. Then remembered that he was watching the game with his dad. What game, she didn’t know.

The Sunday Times was spread out in front of her, the coupon section in her hands. Never in her life had she cut a coupon.