My Stepsister Moved Into the Guest Room at Thirty novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Her Turn

The garden was a rectangle of raised beds and bare soil on the roof of a nine-story building, with a view of Lake Michigan between two water towers.

By noon on Saturday it was windy and grey and perfect.

Flora stood at the head of the walkway in her paint-stained overalls with a roll of plans under her arm.

I stood two feet behind her with my hands in my coat pockets, as promised.

The building's owner, a heavy man in a quilted vest, walked the beds with the super.

Four residents from the garden committee followed, taking pictures with their phones.

Rachel arrived last.

She came through the stairwell door in her camel coat with a tablet in her hand and a smile.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I did the signage for the lobby, so the owner invited me. Hello, Flora."

Flora did not turn her head.

"Hello, Rachel."

The owner looked from one to the other, puzzled.

"You two know each other?"

"We lived together for three years," Rachel said brightly. "Flora is wonderful. I just think someone should mention that she's in a personal situation right now."

"Rachel," Flora said.

"She's living with her stepsister. Her actual stepsister, in a relationship. I only say it because the committee should be aware of the, you know, judgment involved."

She turned to the residents.

Four phones came down.

I felt every muscle in my body go tight, and I kept my hands in my pockets.

The owner cleared his throat.

"Ma'am," he said to Rachel. "I hired a landscape architect to build me a garden."

"I've seen her drawings. I've seen her soil report. I did not hire her family tree."

One of the residents, a gray-haired woman in a puffy coat, raised her hand.

"We all saw the lobby thing," she said. "My neighbor filmed it. It was the best thing that happened in this building all year."

The man beside her nodded and held up his phone.

"Forty people watched that video in our building chat," he said. "The residents' committee already voted to keep her."

"She's allowed to date her sister, for heaven's sake," the gray-haired woman said. "It's not like they grew up together."

Rachel's smile cracked.

She looked at the owner, at the four residents, at me.

Last, she looked at Flora, who was finally watching her.

"Your things are in the trunk of my car," Rachel said. "Two boxes. I was going to hand them over today."

"Leave them with the super," Flora said. "He'll bring them up."

"Florrie."

"Goodbye, Rachel."

She said it kindly, and that was worse.

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