I shook my head. "But wait, I thought you were parked there to mow the lawn."
"I was," Brody said. "I was mowing for the lady who watched her. The lawncare – it was how we paid for the service."
"So, you exchanged lawn care for babysitting?"
"Lawncare and handy work," he said. "I did the lawn. My brothers did the rest. But as far as mowing, I'd pull up, cut the grass, and then load up Willow. But on that day, I was running maybe five, ten minutes late."
I tried to picture it. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he said. "And around the time you torched the truck, I was supposed to be loading Willow into the car seat." He shook his head. "Or running back into the house because I forgot her favorite stuffed animal or something."
As his words hit home, I felt the color drain from my face. "So she could've been inside the truck?" I sucked in a breath. "Alone?"
As I said it, Waverly's accusation came flooding back. "You almost killed his sister."
I turned sideways to stare at Brody. "But on the day it happened, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Because it wasn't as bad as it could've been." He frowned. "And, because we didn't want her taken away."
I was still reeling. "What do you mean?"
"After my parents took off – first my dad, and then my mom – we were trying hard to fly under the radar, pretending that mom was still around so Willow wouldn't get put into foster care."
As I listened, my heart went out to him. It went out to all of them – Brody, Chase, Willow, and even Mason. I murmured, "So that's why they hate me."
Brody nodded. "And why we never said anything – not to you or to the police."
Thinking out loud, I said, "So you figured that if it looked like a freak accident, they'd just let it go?"
"Yeah. Which they did. A good thing, too, because I sure as hell didn't want them coming to our house, asking for mom or whoever."
"But what about Mason?" I asked. "He was an adult, right?"
"Oh yeah," Brody said with a rueful laugh. "He was an adult at ten."
In my mind, I could totally see it, and it nearly broke my heart.
"The thing is," Brody continued, "by that time, Mason had been the dad for a while."
"You mean to Willow?"
"Her and to the rest of us," he said, "whenever we'd let him, which in my case, was pretty much never."
I'd never liked Mason. Even on the show, he'd struck me as a total hard-ass who hated anyone not named Blastoviak. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that it would be nice – really nice – to have a sibling with that kind of loyalty.
And now, I didn't know whether to pity them, or be totally jealous. The Blastoviaks really did stick together.
This reminded me of something I'd meant to ask earlier. "Willow's last name," I said, "why is it Taylor, and not Blastoviak?"
"Because it isn't," Brody said. "Taylor's her middle name."
"Ohhhhh." I turned forward once again. "I guess I should've realized that."
"No." Brody said. "What you should've gotten was an apology."
I didn't get it. "For what?"
"For all the bullshit we put you through."
I wasn't quite sure I agreed. Still, I tried to smile. "Well Mason sort of apologized." Thinking of Willow, I couldn't help but add, "And from what I know now, I'm not even sure I deserved it."
"Oh, you deserved it," Brody said. "And more. A lot more."
"A lot more?" I teased.
"You know it," he said. "And hey, the day's not over yet."
Chapter 75
Arden
I was so thunderstruck, I could hardly speak. Brody and I were standing alone in the kitchen of what used to be my grandparent's place.
The kitchen was completely done – and not in "counter-less" cupboards either. No. The cabinets were the same ones that Brody and I had picked out together all those months ago.
But that wasn't even the biggest surprise. It was the fact that the whole house appeared to be totally finished – with fresh paint, new carpet, and refinished wooden floors. The place smelled brand new and looked it, too.
All it needed now was furniture to make it anyone's dream home.
We'd just returned from Petoskey, and Brody had given me the grand tour, minus the attic as usual. Everything was just as I'd envisioned, only better.
The place had new light fixtures, new bathtubs, new sinks, new everything – except for the things worth keeping, like the wonderful woodwork and vintage chandeliers.
It was truly amazing.
I was still reeling – not only over the state of the house, but over the fact that I was here at all, after everything that had happened.
I looked to Brody and asked, "How'd you get it done so fast?"
"Easy," he said. "I bribed them."
"Who?"
"Anyone who needed bribing," he said. "We've had crews working around the clock for the last three days."
"Why three days?" I asked.
"Because," he said with a sheepish grin, "that's when I realized what a dumb-ass I'd been."
"Oh, stop it," I laughed. "We were both dumb-asses in our own way. I mean, I didn't do everything perfectly either."
His smile faded. "You did in high school."
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "But what does high school have to do with it?"
Brody reached out and took my hand. "Your scholarship," he said. "The one you lost. Why didn't you say something?"
I stared up at him. "Wait, how'd you hear about that?"
"Chase ran into the guy who got it in your place," he said. "But forget them. Why didn't you tell me?"
"You mean when it happened?" I blew out a nervous breath. "I dunno. Maybe I felt bad about the truck and figured that I couldn’t really complain after costing you something, too."
As the memories came flooding back, I tried to sort it out for myself. "Like right after it happened, when the police showed up, you didn't even
