Pips had taken the news that Gina was a sort-of hoarder rather well last night, thinking, no doubt, that Flick had been overreacting. Gina downplaying the situation hadn’t helped either.
“It’s just a little bit of collecting,” Gina had finally said after realizing that her daughter and niece were going nowhere until she opened her can of worms.
“And I’m a little short of cash,” Gina had added.
“Gina,” Flick had warned.
Gina, the manipulative witch, sighed, closed her eyes, and waved a languid hand. “I’m feeling a bit tired. Flick will fill you in on the details, darling.”
Flick thought that the easiest, quickest, and most direct way to fill Pippa in was to take her to the house and show her how much Gina was downplaying her problems. Seeing how furious and shocked her cousin was, she didn’t have the heart to tell Pippa that Gina was flirting with bankruptcy as well. One problem at a time...
Flick exchanged a look with Tally, who’d joined them on the tour of the house to answer any questions Pippa had on the value of some of the items. Pippa hadn’t started to think about values yet—she was still stuck on how much junk there was in her old house.
“I’m going to kill her, I really am,” Pippa muttered.
“You’re not,” Flick assured her. “The shock will pass.”
Pippa lifted up her head to nail Flick with a hard look. “Any other surprises I should know about?” she demanded.
Flick gnawed on her bottom lip. “Why don’t you wrap your head around the fact that your mom is a borderline hoarder first?”
“Maybe I should go,” Tally said, standing up and pushing her chair back.
Pippa placed her glass on the table next to her and looked up at Tally, confused. “I’m sorry, but I’m still not sure why you’re here and how you know about the house.”
Tally pushed her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. “Flick hired me to do an inventory of the contents of the house because Kai found a rifle that’s worth quite a bit of money. She thought that there might be other items that are valuable, so I’ve done an inventory and a lot of research.”
Pippa rubbed the tips of her fingers across her forehead. “I really don’t understand any of this.”
Tally wrinkled her nose at Flick and looked uncomfortable. “Why don’t you go home, honey, and I’ll talk Pippa through it?” Flick suggested.
Tally looked relieved. “Thanks. Do you need the iPad?”
“No, I think we’re okay.”
Tally looked relieved. “Good, because Kai is going to Skype me later.”
Lucky Tally. She hadn’t heard jackshit from the man. Okay, it had been only a couple of days, but still...Still what? He wasn’t going to call, Skype, email, or send a carrier pigeon. They were done, and she was, at best, a memory of someone he’d shared some mattress time with.
She wasn’t special or unique, and she wasn’t someone he’d think about again. Why couldn’t wrap her head around that?
Tally kicked the porch floor with the tip of her shoe. “Should I tell him that you said hi?”
Flick immediately shook her head. She wasn’t going to come across as pining, needy, or brokenhearted. “No, don’t bother.” She forced a smile onto her face. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
Rufus lifted his head as Tally walked down the porch steps, but didn’t bother to get up and give Tally a lick goodbye, as he normally would. Her dog was depressed, Flick decided. Like her, he was missing Kai, missing his runs on the trails around town, missing those big hands rubbing his stomach, and his ears.
Flick could sympathize. She missed those big hands on her as well.
“Talk to me, Flick,” Pippa ordered, lifting up her feet to place her heels on the edge of her seat. She rested her chin on her bent knees and looked at Flick, her gaze demanding answers.
“Well, I’m still crying and it still hurts like acid in a stab wound—”
Pippa released an annoyed grunt. “I meant…talk to me about the house, about my mother, the hoarder.”
Oh. Pippa wanted to talk about her problems.
“Well, in hoarding terms she’s not that bad. Bad enough, but not a basket case. Tally didn’t find thirty years of newspapers and mummified cat carcasses.”