Max remembered the first time Mom showed him the house. It hadn’t looked cursed online. It had looked exactly like what she wanted: a big old house on a hill overlooking the ocean.

    Mom had scrolled through the pictures with shining eyes. The house had room for her painting studio. It had a garage for Dad’s workshop when he finally came home for good. There was a bedroom with shelves for Lindy’s dinosaur models. There was another bedroom for Max with a view of the storm-colored sea.

    “It’s a little bit of a fixer-upper,” Mom had said. “But that’s perfect. We can work on it as a family.” 

    Max had kept quiet. He didn’t say what he was thinking—that they hadn’t done anything as a family for a long time. Would they even remember how? Dad had been in the military since way before Max was born. He was often deployed overseas. Max was used to living without Dad for months at a time. He was used to moving every year. He was used to not making friends because it was easier to be alone than it was to say goodbye.

    He just wasn’t used to staying.

    “Cool,” he’d said instead. 

    As it turned out, “fixer-upper” actually meant “total disaster.” But by the time they realized it, it was too late. Max’s family had already loaded the car and driven west and north.

    Lindy spent all of their drive through Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and Oregon telling them dinosaur facts. When they got to Washington State, the rain started. Even Lindy got quiet. Water came down in sheets as they pulled up to the new house. 

    “It rains a lot in Washington,” Mom said. She didn’t sound excited anymore. 

    They stared out the blurry car windows. It was only four in the afternoon, but the sky was almost black. The house didn’t look like something that would unite them as a family. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

    “Is that a hole in the roof?” Max asked quietly.

    “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mom said with a fake smile.

    “Why does the front porch look like that?” Lindy asked.

    “It just needs a few repairs, sweetie,” Mom said. 

    Lightning lit up the sky. Thunder boomed. Uh-oh, Max thought. We’re really in for it.  

    Max was leaning against the Perfects’ Wall one afternoon when Lindy started screaming. 

    “Max! Help! Max!”

    Max didn’t think. He just ran. He found his little sister standing outside the bathroom. She was ankle-deep in water. 

    “I was brushing my teeth!” she cried. “The sink just fell over!”

    The old-fashioned porcelain sink was lying on the floor, broken into pieces. There was a gaping hole in the wall. Water was everywhere—on the floor, in the hallway. 

    Max wasn’t sure what to do. Mom was due home from work soon—just in time for their video chat with Dad. Who do you even call when your little sister broke the bathroom? 911? A plumber? 

    “I’m sorry,” Lindy sobbed. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

    “It’s OK,” Max said, giving her a hug. “It’s not your fault. But we have to make this water stop. Maybe the neighbors can help.” 

    He ran to the front porch. The street was empty. The clouds were low and ominous. A few houses down, a person pushed a lawn mower. Max sprinted up the street. 

    The person turned out to be a girl about his age. She turned off the lawn mower when she saw him.

    “Hi, new kid,” she said. “I didn’t realize we were neighbors.”

    “You’re in my homeroom,” Max said. He wasn’t used to paying attention to the kids around him at school. There usually wasn’t any point. “I’m Max.”

    The three of them ran up the stairs to the bathroom. Water was everywhere. “Wow, this place is a dump,” Jenny said. Anger flashed through Max. Then it faded. 

    “Yeah,” he said. “It kind of is.”

    “Well, it’s nothing you can’t fix,” Jenny said. “My dad and I can help out. Where do you keep the mop?”

    Just then, Max heard Mom open the front door.

    “Mom’s going to kill me!” Lindy cried.

    “Why would she do that?” Mom yelled from the front hall. “What is all this water?”

    And then she was behind them. 

    “Oh, no,” she said. 

    Max couldn’t read Mom’s face. Was she angry? Sad? 

    And then, she started to laugh. It was the kind of bright, clear laughter he hadn’t heard since before Dad left. Soon he was laughing too. And then Jenny. And finally, Lindy.

    “I can’t believe this house!” Mom yelled. “It’s a nightmare! Who’s your friend, Max?”

    Friend, he thought. For the first time in a long time, he thought the word might turn out to be true.

    “This is Jenny,” Max said. “She helped me shut off the water.”

    “Thanks, Jenny,” Mom said. “Want to stay for dinner?”

    “Sure,” Jenny said. “Let me just call my father.”

    “That reminds me,” Mom said. “Kids, it’s time to call Dad.”

    Max turned, ready to head upstairs to the Perfects’ Wall. 

    “You know what?” Mom said. “I want to show your poor father this sink. Let’s call him from here.”

    “Are you sure?” Max asked.

    “I’m sure,” she said. A big smile stretched across her face.

    And this time, it was the realest smile he’d ever seen.