All The Summers Between Us | TSITP

Lines In The Sand.

The four of them sat around the oak dining table like an uneasy jury; Conrad at the head with the trust docs fanned in front of him, Lydia beside him with the legal pad open to bullet points and crossed-out plans, Belly and Jeremiah across from them, shoulders almost touching. The phone lay face-up in the center, on speaker. The room smelled faintly of coffee and ocean and paper ink.

Adam's voice crackled through, clipped and harried. "Guys, I had my lawyers look into any possible loopholes right after the funeral, but there's none."

Conrad's jaw worked. He glanced at Lydia; she met his eyes, steady. Jeremiah looked at Belly, and she gave him a small, bracing nod.

Adam continued, "Okay? The house is legally Julia's."

Jeremiah's head snapped toward the phone. "Wait, so you've known we're losing the house since the funeral?"

"Jere, I'm not your evil father trying to ruin your life," Adam said, the old combination of defensiveness and fatigue coming through. "And believe it or not, I'm just as upset as you all are about it."

"That's such bullshit," Conrad said, voice low, anger shaking the words. "That's such bullshit."

Under the table, Lydia nudged his shin; above it, her voice was firm. "Don't be like that. He has every right to be upset too."

Conrad shook his head, eyes fixed on the phone like it could feel the heat of his stare. "You never cared about this house, Dad. You never cared about it cause you never cared about Mom."

Lydia shot him a sharp why? look; Conrad cut his eyes to hers with a you know I'm right that hurt to read.

On the line, Adam inhaled, the kind of breath you take when you're swallowing glass. "You know that's not true." He pivoted. "Jere, come on. You get it, don't you?"

Jeremiah's knee bounced under the table. "Dad, I—I don't—I don't get why we can't just use our trust to buy it, and then we can sell it later if we need the money."

"No," Adam said, resolute. "Julia's gonna go ahead with the open house tomorrow. I really appreciate the attempt here, but this is the end of the conversation. You just make sure that Julia gets everything that she needs, you got it?"

A silence widened, then cracked.

"Conrad was right," Jeremiah said, voice flat with hurt. "Talking to you is pointless." He stabbed the screen. The call died with a soft thud back to the home screen.

The room stayed loud with quiet. Four people, one table, a thousand things unsaid.

The front door burst open. "Surprise!" Steven shouted, stepping into the frame with a grin that froze when he clocked the faces at the table. "Oh, shit. I—I knew we should've told them we were coming."

"No, it's not that. It's—" Lydia started, standing—

"We're losing the house," Jeremiah cut in, not taking his eyes off the phone. "They put it up for sale."

Taylor was through the doorway in a heartbeat, arms open. "Aw, my girls." Belly and Lydia folded into her, a quick, fierce group hug that smelled like road trip and drugstore gum. "They're selling the house?"

"Yeah," Belly said into Taylor's shoulder.

They pulled apart. Taylor slid into a chair at the table like she belonged there—because she did.

Steven hovered, suddenly shy, before looking at Lydia. "Um, I—I brought you blueberry." He produced a clamshell from a paper bag—a too-sweet, too-blue slice from some roadside bakery. His ears went a little pink.

Lydia's mouth tipped despite everything. "I'm glad you're here," she said, tapping his shoulder once.

He sat; so did she. The circle widened and, somehow, held.

————

The porch steps were warm from the last of the sun. Jeremiah sat hunched on the bench, hands knit together so tightly his knuckles blanched, eyes wet and angry. The gulls were loud and rude; the ocean was relentless.

Conrad came up the walk, hair a bit damp, and approached his brother. "Figured you'd be out here," he said, not forcing a smile, sitting down with a measured space between them.

Jeremiah scrubbed at his cheek, laughed once without humour. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry about this morning," Conrad said. He stared at the dune grass, not trusting the horizon. "I think I was... scared that you guys were gonna see me and Lydia fuck everything up."

Jeremiah nodded, eyes on his shoes. "Aunt Julia was a stretch, but I really thought I could convince Dad."

Conrad let a real, small smile through. "You kept me from completely tearing into him, so... it's no easy feat."

Jeremiah huffed, a sound that might have been a laugh if it weren't so tired. His eyes filled again, hot and useless. "You know, I just feel everyone's slipping away and—and the house is the last thing tying us together."

Conrad turned toward him at that, the old big-brother instinct surfacing, steadying. "We're not giving up. We're not giving up." He laid a hand between Jeremiah's shoulder blades, warm and solid. "We're gonna figure something else out."

"You got a plan?" Jeremiah asked, half challenge, half plea.

"No." Conrad's mouth crooked. "Not yet."

Jeremiah sniffled, swiped his sleeve under his nose like a kid, then didn't apologise for it.

"We'll figure it out together. Yeah?" Conrad said.

Jeremiah looked over, really looked, reading the promise there. He didn't answer, not with words.

Conrad leaned back against the bench, eyes on the silver of moon already trying its luck in the blue. "Look, I don't know, but... I feel like us all hanging around the open house tomorrow and being pains in the asses is a pretty good place to start."

Jeremiah's breath hitched, then he let out a genuine laugh, wet at the edges. "I'm sure Aunt Julia would love that."

Conrad sprawled a little, like he could make the bench an invitation. "Let's fuck some shit up."

Jeremiah leaned back beside him, shoulder to shoulder now, matching the horizon. "Let's fuck some shit up."

The ocean kept its beat. Inside, muffled through wood and screens, came the rise and fall of the people who made this house a home, even as papers and signatures tried to unmake it. For a moment, the brothers let the sound hold them where words couldn't.

And the night, imperfect and unpromising as it was, settled around them like a pact.