…
“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