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…
“I know how to use a saw and a hammer—it could be; you know; a project。”
My mother quit looking at me and stared at my father; instead。
My father sighed and said; “The yard is not our responsibility; Julianna。”
“It's … it's not?”
He shook his head and said; “It's Mr。 Finnegan's。”
“Who's Mr。 Finnegan?”
“The man who owns this house。”
I couldn't believe my ears。 “What?”
My father cleared his throat and said; “The landlord。”
“You mean we don't own this house?”
They looked at each other; having some private wordless conversation I couldn't decipher。
Finally my father said; “I didn't realize you didn't know
that。”
“But … but that doesn't make sense! Aren't landlords supposed to e and do things? Like
fix the roof when it leaks and clear the drains when
they're plugged? You always do that stuff; Dad。 Why do you do it when he's supposed to?”
“Because;” he sighed; “it's easier than asking him for help。”
“But if—”
“And;” my father interrupted me; “it keeps him from raising the rent。”
“But …”
My mother reached over and took my hand。 “Sweetheart; I'm sorry if this is a shock。 I guess
we always thought you knew。”
“But what about the yard? Why keep up the inside but not the outside?”
My father frowned and said; “When we signed the lease; he assured us he would fix the
fences; front and back; and plant sod in the fron
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