September 3rd

7:46am

Sold.

Lance could read. He knew what it said, but he still didn't want to believe it.

The eight year old boy glared at the red sign like it had done him a great wrong, but nothing happened.

He sighed in frustration and turned from the driveway back towards his house.

For eight whole years, he had lived in the Marshwood neighborhood, in a big blue house with white doors and white windows. It was the perfect neighborhood. There was a playground down the street that had big kid swings, and a hill perfect for sledding in the winter. The mail was always on time, the pavement never cracked, but most important of all, his Abuela lived right next door.

Lance loved his Abuela more than anything. She was always nice to him, even when his older siblings weren't, even when they teased him. She would cuddle with him, and help him with his hard math homework. She made him dinner, and always had cookies on hand. He could go to her when he was sad, or angry, or just lonely and she would always be there.

Last year, his abuela had started acting a little weird. It was harder for her to help him with his math homework, she said she didn't know how, but she had always known before. She didn't cook as much, and she would go out to get the mail more than once sometimes. After a few months of this, she had started to get frustrated with him. His mama said it was nothing he was doing, she was just embarrassed of her memory.

It wasn't long before Mama and Papa had made the decision that his abuela couldn't live on her own. She couldn't live with them, because they had little kids, Mama said, so she went to live at Creek Wood Homes. It was like a big apartment, but everyone was old, and everything smelled like dust and window cleaner. Lance didn't like it there, but his Mama said it was what was best for Abuela.

It wasn't until the red sign appeared in her front lawn that Lance realized that meant that somebody else would be living in Abuela's house.

"Lance! Venir aquí, el desayuno está listo!" Lance took one last look behind him at the red sold sign. He scowled, thinking of someone else inside his abuela's house.

"Lance, ahora!"

"Ya voy…" He huffed one last time before hurrying inside.


September 3rd

5:32pm

Takashi Shirogane was doing his best.

At age forty three, his amazing, beautiful mother who had fought for so long against the tumor in her head, finally couldn't be strong anymore, and left Shiro alone in this world. Except , that is, for his half brother, Keith. New to adulthood and clinging to any familiarity left in the world, Shiro excepted custody of his baby brother, packed up their small apartment, and moved to Mashwood. He used the money his mother had left him to pay for what was left of college tuition after his scholarships, and a mortgage. Yes, at age nineteen he had bought a house.

Like I said, he was doing his best.

The change had been a shock at first, but the more he thought about it the better he felt. As he watched his little brother pretend to steer the U-Haul truck, he grew more and more confident. Starting September seventh, Keith would be enrolled in the third grade at Marshwood Elementary. Using his community college experience from highschool, he was able to get two decent jobs, one cutting hair and one as a secretary for a physical therapist office. His classes were three days a week. Working around his classes and the other two days of the week, occasionally on weekends, he should be able to make his monthly payments as long as they didn't eat out extravagantly or make any big purchases.

He had spent about $45 on Keith's school supplies, but the smile on his face when he said he could get the Batman backpack was worth it. He had talked to the school, and Keith would be getting a free school lunch every day, and a snack was provided for everyone on half days. He had purposely scheduled his classes so that he would be able to drop Keith off at the school's early daycare group on his way to school, and pick him up from the after school program on the way home. They had the furniture from their apartment, it wasn't a lot but it was enough. They had an old rocking chair and a big recliner, along with an old wooden coffee table and an even older T.V, the kind that was still a large cube. They had a dusty DVD player, and Keith had gotten a used nintendo for Christmas last year that worked just fine.

None of the fruiture matched, but they had a dining room table and three chairs, 'So they can do their homework together!', as Keith had said. They each had their own room, with a twin sized bed. Shiro had a dresser and a desk, but Keith just had a small chest that was supposed to be a nightstand, but held his clothes just fine. They had three hangers between them, which Shiro used to hand up his suit from graduation for job interviews, and their mother's wedding dress which he had kept. There were two hangers in the front entryway that they could each hang their jackets on.

All in all, the house was barren and mismatched, but when he was done moving everything inside, he felt a sense of pride at it. It may be stripped and plain, but it was his.

He made grilled cheese that night, on a pan from their apartment. He needed to go grocery shopping bad, there was virtually nothing in the fridge and only a few crackers in the cupboard now.

As he listened to Keith chatter off about the book he was reading from Mrs. Neelie, (their old neighbor who had taken a liking to Keith and his reading habits, giving him a whole stack before they moved), and watched as he cut the crusts off his own sandwich, Shiro smiled to himself, feeling yet another surge of pride.

He had only been fourteen when his brother had been born, and their mom had already been fading. He had taken care of him most of his life, and the two were close. He couldn't have imagined giving up custody, he knew he had made the right choice. Still, being a parent was a lot different than being a brother. Sure he knew generally speaking how to care for a child, but he had no experience. Keith was a good kid, he deserved someone who knew what he was doing. Someone who could help him. But Shiro just couldn't give him up, not after losing their mother. Keith needed him, and f he thought about it, he needed Keith too.

Keith offered to cut the crusts of his sandwiches for him.

Yeah, he thought to himself, we'll be just fine.