All You Can Handle (Moments In Maplesville Book 5) by Farrah Rochon Page B

her hauling laundry from the clothes dryer in the garage and doing homework as soon as she comes home from school, so you balance it out.”
    “I still don’t think I spoil her,” he said.
    His cell phone rang. He nearly toppled out of the chair as he reached for it over by the printer.
    “That has to be the bank,” he said. He answered and started slowly pacing between the kitchen and the living room.
    Sonny pretended not to listen to his side of the conversation as she scrolled through the endless pictures on Pinterest, but she could tell by his weighty pauses that whatever was being relayed on the other end of the phone wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
    She heard a stern, “Not the house. That’s not up for debate.”
    Another pause. Ian stopped pacing.
    “The house isn’t even in my name,” he said. “I can’t offer it up, and I wouldn’t do it anyway. The house cannot be a part of the equation.”
    Then she heard, “I’ll get back to you by the end of the day,” before Ian released a sigh and shoved the phone in his front pocket.
    Sonny looked over and gestured at the phone. “Was that something you want to talk about, or are you good?”
    He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Possibly,” he tacked on. He ran a hand down the back of his head. “Shit.”
    Okay, so he definitely was not good. Something was up. Something that was not her concern. He’d asked her to help plan his little sister’s party, not become involved in his life.
    But it was hard not to become involved, given their living arrangement. She’d found herself in Ian’s kitchen or the family room or Kimmie’s bedroom on several occasions over the past week. The younger girl had a serious case of hero worship, but Sonny didn’t mind. Despite Ian spoiling her like crazy, Kimmie was sweet and respectful. And even though she talked more than just about anyone Sonny had ever met, it was just another thing that she found endearing about her.
    As for Kimmie’s older brother…
    Well, the list of things she found endearing about him took on an entirely different tone.
    But none of that mattered right now. Right now, Sonny was more concerned about the tension lines bracketing Ian’s mouth. She wasn’t sure what was going on, or if she would be able to provide any insight, but it didn’t feel right to sit here and watch him suffer alone.
    “Tell me,” Sonny said. “Maybe talking it out will help.”
    He stared at her for a moment before releasing another of those bone-deep breaths and coming back over to the computer nook. He didn’t sit in the chair he’d vacated a few minutes ago, choosing instead to perch his butt against the desk. He crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his arms over his chest.
    “I want to start my own bike shop,” he began. “It’s been a dream of mine for a long time—a dream I shared with my dad. But I need a loan from the bank in order to make it happen. That was the loan officer. He said they would be more ‘comfortable’ if I had something else to put up for collateral.”
    “Something like this house.” She’d gleaned that much from his side of the phone conversation.
    “Yes, but that’s not going to happen. The house isn’t mine.”
    He’d told her the house was in his mother’s name.
    “I’m not sure what all the legalities are, but I’m sure there’s a way to get the house put in your name if that’s what’s stopping you. It may take some time, but—”
    “All it would take is a call to my mom asking her to sign the house over to me,” Ian said.
    Sonny stopped short. “Wait, your mom is alive?”
    He nodded.
    That’s not what she was expecting. She hadn’t wanted to pry, but had wondered all week about his parents. Sonny had assumed they were both dead. It seemed the only logical reason for why someone as young as Ian was raising his little sister.
    “My mom’s living somewhere in Paris,” Ian said. “Or maybe she’s moved to the south of France. I think she