Covers

Chapter Seventeen: Rhodies

My childhood home is an old but meticulously well-kempt two-story house in the dilapidated downtown suburbia of Roseburg. All of the homes in this area of town are at least three times as old as I am and were probably once beautiful, but the extreme poverty in this county has prevented a lot of badly-needed repainting, landscaping and tree removal. These homes were undoubtedly built to be the dwellings of affluent families whose patriarchs owned pieces of the logging and farming industries here, but have aged into poorly-maintained housing for families who can barely afford the rent.

My dad had the right idea: get out of the rental market before Roseburg's relatively low cost of living and investment potential started inflating rental prices. He bought a home here when I was seven, and has handled all updates and day-to-day repairs himself.

My dad's careful upkeep and the steady influx of residents into Douglas County have quadrupled the home's value from what he paid for it, yet the small sum remaining on his mortgage costs him less than half of what the median rental price is for his neighbors. It saddens me greatly that everyone within a ten-block radius of him has probably paid the value of their home several times over in rent and yet don't own a square inch.

"Home, sweet home," I say, giving the place a smile as we pull into the driveway. A few years ago, my dad had the exterior repainted into a sensible, muted indigo. The color makes the rhododendrons around the porch seem vibrant and glowing, even with the gloomy gray overcast sky overhead.

"Wow," Evan says, grinning. "This place is beautiful! Great location, too. I love downtown."

My dad smiles proudly. "Thank you. Yeah, I like being able to just walk down to a corner store instead of having to drive all the time." He points to my treasured Altima beside the garage. "And that's Audrey's. If you guys want to go exploring for a bit, I can whip up some dinner for you to come back to."

I think of retrieving Evan's documents from his father. I don't consider myself a particularly confrontational person, but I like the idea of blowing off a bit of steam by facing down a bigoted idiot.

"Want to go say hi to your dad?" I ask Evan conversationally. He meets my eyes subtly and I'm proud to see the determination in his gaze.

"Tour first?" he asks softly. His tiny request to be able to build up some courage fills me with affection, but also fury. This man should not require courage to be near his father. He shouldn't have any qualms about reclaiming his property.

"Of course," I answer.

My dad carries my tiny suitcase into the house, and Evan carries a clean new duffel bag along with his guitar case, and my dad's eyes fixate on the case for a moment as he unlocks the door.

"Audrey tells me you do a mean Ed Sheeran cover," he says with a smile. I suppose Evan's musical talent was forgotten in the aftermath of the revelation this morning. "Can I hear some of that after dinner?"

Evan grins. "Of course. She told me that you wanted to hear me do an Ed Sheeran cover, and that's why I brought this big thing in the first place."

"Are you going to make us sleep in separate rooms?" I ask as my dad unlocks the house.

My dad sighs and looks at the floor for a moment before he turns to point at Evan and me in turn. "No. But if I have to see or hear evidence that anything besides sleep is happening, I'm burning this entire house down."

Evan blushes. I smile at my dad. "Deal."

The interior of the house is clean and decorated about the way you'd expect a home owned by a single man in his forties to be decorated. The colors are all neutral and nothing really goes together. The couch is a cushy, plush fabric that clashes with the straight, black design of the coffee table. The remnants of my time here linger, however. A few small vases of fake flowers sit, untouched except for when they're dusted, on the end tables beside the couch. Pictures of me decorate the walls and shelves. I watch as Evan hovers near one, a smile growing on his lips as he studies the photo. It's of my dad and me on my ninth birthday. We smile happily at the camera, the play structures of Stewart Park, Roseburg's most popular park, in the background.