“Loving something doesn’t make it worth the money.”
“Would you sell your Mustang if someone said it wasn’t worth fixing?” Owen asked.
“Loving something doesn’t make it worth the money.”
Declan looked up.
“That’s different, buddy.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what I’m doing with that car.”
I put my fork down.
“And I know what I’m doing with the house.”
“If your mom doesn’t blow every penny fixing that dump.”
Declan said nothing, but Owen had already lost his appetite.
On the third day, I’d had enough.
“This weekend I’m starting to clean the house. With your help or without it.”
“Fine. Don’t expect me to get involved.”
“I don’t.”
That afternoon, my phone rang. Declan. His voice sounded strange.
