“I’m dying. This is what hell must feels like,” I said.
“Quit being so dramatic. Your parents are in love. Shut up,” Drew said.
“Dying, I tell you!” I exclaimed dramatically.
I clutched my heart and faked a heart attack. Everyone at the table burst out laughing as bells and whistles started going off in the kitchen. Lucas and I slid our chairs out, then made our way to grab the food dishes for the evening. We cooked a particularly decadent spread. Crispy fried chicken, grilled vegetables, maca
roni and cheese, a fruit salad, steak niblets in this homemade teriyaki sauce, and beautiful homemade biscuits. Not to mention blackberry cobbler for dessert and sweet tea so strong it almost looked black.
“Wow, if this is how you boys eat every Sunday night, I’m coming over more often,” my mother said.
“This smells delicious. Who cooked?” my father asked.
“It depends on the Sunday. But this time, Lucas and I tag-teamed,” I said.
“So that’s your double-dipped fried chicken,” my mother said. She reached for a massive drumstick before I could even answer her question.
“Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful food. Forgive me for not praying any longer. Amen!” my father exclaimed.
Then, we all dove in headfirst.
For the first fifteen minutes, no one spoke, which gave me time to gather my thoughts. It was my responsibility to bring this topic up since I was the one who neglected the insurance. I looked around at my brothers, who all nodded at me as they took bites of their food. When Lucas grabbed his drink and washed the first plate of his food down, I cleared my throat.
“So, Mom. Dad. I have something I want to discuss with you guys,” I said.
“Uh oh,” my father said.
“Discuss. That’s a pretty formal word for a Sunday, non-working dinner,” my mother said.
“It’s nothing bad. Just something we want to update you guys on,” Lucas said.
“Might it have anything to do with the smoky fog that’s been looming over Charleston all week?” my father asked. I drew in a deep breath before I nodded.
“It does,” I said.
“The mansion burned down, didn’t it?” my mother asked.
“Wait. What?” I asked.
“The mansion. The one on the southside of town? With the massive garden?” she asked.
“Oh! And the hot tub in the middle of it. I think the pool’s in the middle, too,” my father said.
“What?” Lucas asked.
“You guys know about that mansion?” Drew asked.
“Know about it? We almost purchased it a year ago. It’s interesting that you boys didn’t think we’d find out about it. That’s been the hottest piece of historical property on the marketplace,” my father said.
“So, how did it burn down? Another electrical fire? I swear, you boys have to be careful about those old homes,” my mother said.
“Actually, there’s a lot we want to talk with you about on that front,” I said.
“Then spit it out, Everett. What’s going on? I want to use my energy to eat this fabulous chicken of yours,” my father said.
“I didn’t take insurance out on the house,” I blurted out. My father’s eyes hardened on me as my mother’s fork hit the plate.
“You what?” she asked.