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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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