Banish Me

Epilogue: Perfect

Two Days Later…

“Dad, where are we going? The Marks turn off was right there.”

I was in the passenger side of his truck. I was just released from the hospital and planning on a nice, quiet afternoon curled up next to Peter on the couch watching movies.

“I know.” He looked at me and smiled. “But I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it sparkly? OoOo or shiny? Oh, is it ice cream?”

He just laughed and shook his head. “Neither of those actually but if you want we can stop later and get a pint of ice cream.”

“I’m pretty sure Alma already has a pint waiting for me at the house.” I smiled, thinking about what that meant back in Ireland. Granted my mother had never let me drink before but she’d taken me to the local pub a time or two. “So is my surprise bigger or smaller than a bread box?”

“Bigger.” He nodded. “Definitely bigger.”

He pulled into a driveway on the left, the tires making a crunching noise as they hit gravel instead of pavement. A huge wrought iron gate sat in front of us. He rolled down the window and pressed the button on the call box. It beeped loudly and the gates swung inward.

My father drove through them and down a half mile long driveway. I smiled when I saw Peter leaning against his SUV, his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankle.

“I like the surprise, Dad, but I’m pretty sure he was waiting for me at his own house.”

My father just continued to grin as he pulled up next to Peter. His sunglasses masked his eyes but he was smiling too. This was definitely making my weird meter go nuts.

Peter helped me out of the truck and kissed me on the cheek since my father was around. He took my hand and led the way forward.

The house that sat before me was…rundown to say the least. It was huge, two or three stories I thought. The paint was chipped off in some places, allowing the gray wood to show through. The front door was completely gone and it made me smile as Mrs. Potter walked out, looking very put out.

“She can’t be my surprise,” I muttered.

“No,” my father said. “She’s not. Mrs. Potter,” he said a little louder, “how are you this afternoon?”

“Dusty, Mr. Kennedy. Very dusty.” She looked at me and that fake smile lit up her face. “And how are you, dear? I was surprised when your father said you were getting out of the hospital so soon.”

“Liar,” Peter said, fake coughing to hide it.

I smiled but my father shot him a look. Peter pressed his lips together and moved behind me slightly. He wasn’t scared of my father, not that I knew anyways.

“So…what do you think?” my father asked.

“About what?”

“The house, Cassie.”

“Well,” I tilted my head to the side, “it’s definitely a fixer upper why?”

He shared a look with Mrs. Potter.

“I’m buying it. We’re going to live here.”

I looked from the house to him, moving my head very slowly. “Excuse me, what?”

He came over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“I’m buying it. We’re going to live here.”