Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“The floors are solid oak,” Shaun said, stomping his heel on the wood near the stove. “No soft spots anywhere in this room.”
“The cabinets need a fresh coat of paint, but they are sturdy enough to hold the dishes,” my mother said, peering closely at the old metal shelves.
“The water heater is rusted out,” Shaun said, walking into the room and testing the temperature with his hand. “But I can buy a new one and install it myself for about four hundred dollars.”
“Four hundred dollars is nearly all my savings,” I said, leaning against the counter.
“I will help you pay for the parts, Chloe,” my mother said, setting Bodhi’s carrier near the kitchen table.
I looked around the empty living room, visualizing where the three baby cribs would go. The space was smaller than our suburban house, but the windows faced south, letting in a warm, amber light that felt peaceful.
“We would need to scrub every inch of this place,” my mother said, her fingers tracing a line of dust on the wooden mantelpiece.
