When we get back to the house, my mother is loitering around by the front door. She glares at me as I walk inside and tries to initiate a conversation, I run quickly past and Maida engages with her instead. I grab the papers from the safe and shove them into a small blue backpack that I find hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I run back downstairs, flinging it over my shoulder.

“See you later, mother.” I yell and race out the front door.

“I need to talk to you!” She yells after me.

“Later!”

Maida and I jump back in her small red car and go to the library again, a warm spot for us to look through everything, away from the house. Maida parks directly out the front and we walk inside, sitting at a large wooden table, well hidden behind some tall bookshelves. I pull the papers from my backpack and place them in front of us. They’re now slightly bent in the middle with some corners creased.

“Ok, the deeds for the businesses are in here somewhere.” I leaf through the pile and pull out any that I can see, handing them to Maida. She lays them on the table in chronological order. “Okay, so we have May 10th, 1987, June 12th 1987, two for August, one in December of that same year.”

“There’s two more for May, November and another in December. All the same year too. He bought the trailer park, every motel, everything I think.”

“All in the same year? How much did he pay for them?”

“Maybe we can find out?” I walk up to the librarian, who’s shelving books behind us. “Do you know where we could find out the sale prices of properties in town?”

“We have records here, follow me.”

Me and Maida walk behind the small woman into a crowded room filled with filing cabinets.

“The property records are in the back. We have all the public records in this room, lucky the fire didn’t get to them.” The librarian finds the cabinet and unlocks it with one of many tiny keys on a large ring. “You girls can feel free to look through them, I trust you. If you need any help I’ll be out the front.” She smiles and leaves us alone.

Maida opens the top drawer and starts sifting through the folders with her fingers. “They seem to be organised by year. So I guess we’ll grab the one for 1987?” Maida pulls a blue file out.

“Sounds good.” I say.

Maida places it on top of the cabinet and slides the papers out. The filing cabinet is short enough that we can both see over the top, using it as a kind of makeshift table.

“So, it looks like he paid between $200,000 and $300,000 for each business.”

“Is that cheap?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Wait a second.” I walk out of the room and find the librarian. “You don’t happen to know when the businesses around here have been bought and sold.”

“I can probably remember, most of them would've been passed down. The gas station next to the general store was sold in, what would it be? ’83 or ’84. The Ridgemont Forest Motel would have been sometime in 1981, I remember because I was good friends with the owner.”

“Is that everything that sold?”

“I'd say so, within the last twenty years at least.” I thank her and she goes back to reading her book.

I walk back to the filing cabinets. “Get 1981, ’83 and ’84.”

“Okay.” Maida opens the cabinet back up and grabs out the three files. She places them on the top with the other one. I pick up 1981 and look inside.

“The librarian said the Ridgemont Forest Motel sold in 1981.” I scan the page. “She’s right, it sold for $40,000.”

Maida picks up the file for 1987. “Your Dad paid $210,000 for it.”

“It can’t be worth that much. Can it?”

“That gas station sold in 1984, for $56,000.” Maida looks through the other file. “Your dad paid $245,000.”

“Was he trying to get rid of the money?”

“It looks like it.”

We put the files back in the cabinet and leave the room. I go over to the wooden table and grab the deeds and everything else, throwing them back in the backpack. I find the librarian again.

“You don’t happen to know who owned the businesses before my father bought them?” I ask.

“I’d know a few. Why?”

“Would you know how l could contact any of them.”

The librarian gets her trusty rolodex from underneath the desk and flicks through it. She grabs a small piece of paper and writes down a number. "This is Ethel McDonald's number, she used to own the Lake View Cafe, she’s a lovely woman and still lives in town. I don’t have numbers here for any of the others, most of the people that sold left.”

“Thank you for your help.” I say, grabbing the paper from her.

“It was my pleasure dear, you girls have a good day.” She nods and gets back to her book.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Me and Maida leave the library and walk down Main Street, I find a phone booth outside the diner, grabbing some coins out of my pocket, I pick up the receiver and deposit the change. I hold the piece of paper in one hand and dial the number. I let it ring, finally I hear a click, someone picking up on the other end.

“Hello?” A feeble voice calls out through the receiver.

“Hello, is this Ethel McDonald?”

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“My name’s Elena Taylor.”

“Oh, Ellie, I remember you, you used to come into the cafe.” It saddens me I can’t remember her, she sounds nice.

“I just had some questions for you about the cafe, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, what do you need to know?”

“I’ve been looking into property values and - ”

“You want to know why I was paid so much?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I really didn’t want to sell the place, I took it over from my father, he bought it in the 1930s, I spent my childhood there, every day working behind the counter. I’ve spent my whole life here, we never made much money but I liked having something to get up for in the mornings and I enjoyed talking to all the people who came in. Then your dad walked in one day and asks me if I would be willing to sell, I said no. But when he offered me so much money, I couldn’t refuse. It paid off my debts and left plenty for me to enjoy, enough to retire.”

“So he offered you so much because you didn’t want to sell?”

“No, I don’t think that was it. He told me he wanted to buy it before someone else had the chance, he seemed quite desperate, I could have probably asked for more money, but I’m not greedy.”

“He paid a lot for the other businesses as well.”

“He was buying up the whole town, I remember he was very frustrated with Stephen Halsey, he absolutely refused to sell the Gas Stop to him. No matter how much he would offer. They’d never really gotten along, those two, I think Stephen refused to sell purely out of spite. He was being foolish, he probably would have had quite the payday!”

Ethel keeps talking, telling me about her grandchildren and the cruise she’d just gone on. I can tell she’s happy to have someone to talk to and I struggle to get her off the phone but eventually succeed. I turn around and see Maida sitting on a bench her arms tightly wrapped around her, hands not visible. “Find out anything?” She asks.

“Maybe. We’re going to the Gas Stop.” I say.

“Okay?”

Thankfully it’s a short walk, directly over the street. It’s getting even colder now, the sky clouding. Maida wraps her jacket tightly around her, the wind whipping her hair into her face.

“So what’s at this Gas Stop place?” Maida asks.

“The only person that wouldn’t sell to my father.”

We reach a large neon sign on a pole, signalling our arrival. Its flashing red and yellow light a pleasant contrast to the dreary grey surrounding us. The Ridgemont Gas Stop consists of a couple of pumps and a small workshop. The workshop door is open, so we walk inside, a red Mustang sits in the middle of the small workshop, a man’s working on it, his upper body hidden under the car, just a pair of legs sticking out.

“Are you Stephen Halsey?” I ask.

“Sure am.” He answers and pulls himself out from under the car. “How can I help…” He looks in my direction and his smile drops. “You people again?” His face and hands are covered in grease. “I told your mother last time, I don’t want to talk to the likes of you.”

“What?”

“You Taylors, you’re all the same. I ain’t selling to you neither.”

“I don’t want to buy anything, I just want to know why you didn’t sell.”

“Alright, you wanna know why? If your dad wanted this place he was up to something and it wouldn’t have been good. Your whole family are a scourge on this town, all you rich people. Why are you here? What does a place like this have to offer you? All you do is screw the hard working people who live here.

I got a job here when I was fifteen, been working here ever since, bought it off my boss and paid this place off bit by bit through hard work. I wasn’t gonna sell it off like it was nothing. People like your dad never worked for anything and here he comes and decides he’s gonna throw money at me, like he’s doing me a favour? I can’t be bought.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Listen it’s nothing against you personally. It’s all you rich lot, treated me like trash my whole life, you think you’re better than everyone else. Your dad, I thought he was alright at first, then when I wouldn’t sell to him he tries to ruin my business, lowers all the prices so people go to his gas station instead, nearly bankrupted me. Couldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, god rest his soul.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Your whole family was up to no good, ripping people off, scamming people. You know, I used to know his wife, before she went all fancy. She was my neighbour up in Shady Oaks. I really loved her, we were gonna get married. Then Hamilton Taylor comes to town and she ditches me.”

“You were going to marry her?”

“Yeah, then six months later she breaks off the engagement to run off with him. I was devastated.”

I realise then that Stephen looks somewhat familiar, I study his face, he has a similar jawline to my brother, a similar build.

“What?” Stephen asks me. “Why you looking at me like that?”

“No reason. I have to go. Thanks for talking to me, even if I’m a Taylor. I don’t want to be one, if that’s any consolation.” I tell him as I begin to walk away.

Maida sprints after me. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just need to talk to my mother.”

We quickly drive home, I get out of the car and spot my mother sitting in the garden under an oak tree. I walk towards her, the snow falling around her like something out of a movie. It’s freezing, why she’s out here I can’t understand.

“I’m going to go in and get some lunch. Want anything?” Maida asks, walking towards the front doors.

“No thanks.” I reply.

I walk closer to my mother, sitting there on a bench, looking vacantly off into the distance.

“Who’s Michael’s father?” I ask.

“That’s none of your concern.” She says coldly, eyes like glass.

“It’s Stephen Halsey, isn’t it.”

My mothers blank cold stare towards me confirms I’m right. She’s trying too hard to hide how she’s feeling, I can see the strain, she doesn’t want to seem angry but deep down she’s furious at me. “Why did you come back here? Just to pull this family apart? It was bad enough before. I went to see Michael earlier today, he says that he’s thinking of moving away now.”

“I think he’s wanted to move away for a very long time.”

“If he’s gone who will I have?” My mother sits there, hunched, looking broken. I almost feel sorry for her. She’s put so much effort into my brother.

“When I found out I was having Michael, I didn’t want him to live the same life I’d had to. My parents were dirt poor, they wanted to offer me things but they couldn’t. I’ve never really told you about them. My father worked at the sawmill, he died when I was thirteen, then it was just me and my mother. It was hard to make ends meet. I loved Stephen, I did, but I wanted more for my children. I wanted them to have a chance to make something of themselves, to live an easier life, not to be looked down on by people like I'd been.”

“I get that.”

“When I met your father he was so kind to me, not like the others, he was new here, so he didn’t know I was from Shady Oaks. He asked me out, not knowing. I told him Michael was his and he believed me for a few years. Then he found out more about me and realised that I’d lied, but by then you’d come along and it was easier to just keep going and save face.”

“Dad knew all that time?”

“Yes, he always took it out on your brother, I tried to make it better for him. I tried to make him feel special. I don’t think your dad ever realised he was doing it, he wasn't a spiteful person. I miss him every day.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry about everything, we haven’t gotten along for a while now. I took out a lot of the anger I had on you. If your brother wants to go, that’s fine, I really just want him to be happy. Let me tell him about Stephen, will you?”

My mother weakly smiles up at me. She stops talking and stares off in the distance, ending the conversation. I turn away and walk back to the house. How strange, she’d turned into one of the people she’d grown up hating.