by Mara Wells
“You know my grandfather, Riley. He can’t be rushed.”
Riley checked the time on her phone and blew out a long breath. “An hour late is definitely not rushing. And where are the rest of them? I swear these residents are turning me gray before my time.”
Apparently, Riley’s Grams wasn’t so busy telling her story to Mr. Cardoza that she couldn’t eavesdrop on them, too, because she paused long enough to say, “Pish-posh. You come from a long line of women who never go gray.” She patted her own coiffed and clearly colored hair, which was sprayed into a helmet meant to withstand ocean breezes but might possibly stand up to hurricane-force winds.
Riley turned pleading eyes Lance’s way. “Save me,” she whispered. Out loud, she said, “I’m going to do a second-floor sweep for our stragglers.”
As if on cue, the elevator groaned and dinged, disgorging another three people and their rolling suitcases, one man and two women. The gray-haired man was valiantly trying to drive three overloaded bags, but one of them had a broken wheel and kept veering to the left.
“Constantine, let’s get these bags off the elevator and then take them one at a time out to the van,” said the woman in a teal T-shirt and checkered Bermuda shorts with a terry-cloth visor on her head. She dropped a heavy shoulder bag onto the ground and rubbed her upper arm.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Eileen.” A chubby grandma-type sported a bag on each shoulder. She also wore Bermuda shorts, hers in a red plaid with matching red-plaid sneakers with bright-yellow laces tied in perfect bows. “It’s easier to do it all in one trip, isn’t it, Constantine?”
“Whatever you wish, Hilde.” Constantine strained to pull the three roller bags off the elevator. He eyed the distance to the front door like he was looking for a quick escape route. The two women kept up a steady stream of suggestions.
“Riley?” Lance waved a hand to get her attention. “Looks like your lost lambs are found. Can we talk business for a minute? When can my men get to work?”
“What men?” Riley shoved her phone in the waistband of her jean shorts. “I see a man. Two if I count you.” She grinned at him, taking the sting out of her words. “Can you believe the van I hired didn’t show up? Caleb left a few minutes ago to rent one.”
“Caleb’s going to drive you all to the cruise ship?” Lance watched as two men emerged from the first-floor hallway, one tall and thin, the other short and rotund, each in sweatpants and oversize Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. They pulled one bag between them, the suitcase so large and so covered in light-reflecting tape that it could serve as an emergency float if the cruise ship went down, Titanic-style.
Riley’s lips twitched. “That’s the plan.”
“What have you done to my brother?” Lance pulled her in for a hug because truth was, the changes to Caleb were good to see. Caleb used to be so uptight, but he’d definitely loosened up since meeting Riley and her gently aging extended family at the Dorothy.
“Put him to work, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t believe what he’s uncovered about Rainy Day’s schemes.” More of Riley’s curls flew out of her ponytail holder when she shook her head. “We’re having to report that corrupt management company to the state. It’s possible we’re looking at federal crimes.”
Lance quirked a half smile her way. “Luckily, we Donovans have some experience with that.”
She punched his arm and pulled away. “Don’t talk like that. One bad apple does not ruin the bunch.”
“One of your Grams’ sayings? Because I think you got it wrong.”
“I got it exactly right.” She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the growing pile of luggage and increased lobby occupancy, a general inspecting her troops on the battlefield. “Now, if you really want to help get things moving along, you’ll volunteer all that muscle you’ve got packed in your too-tight T-shirt to help move luggage.”
Lance plucked the T-shirt away from his chest. “It is not too tight.”
“Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Riley’s eyes squinted up at him, her makeup-free face radiating good humor. “Will you check on Patty? I’m worried she hasn’t come down yet. Second floor, Unit 211.”
“Sure thing.” Lance loped off to take the stairs. He skipped the elevator ride, knowing it was being replaced in a few days. He prayed it lasted long enough to transport the second-floor residents and their luggage one last time, but he figured the less stress he put on it, the less chance of a giant catastrophe. Now, he simply had to figure out how Mendo ended up outside playing with his dog while he was turned into a bellboy. This was what happened when you let family in, he supposed. Nothing but work, work, work.
Chapter 5
The elevator creaked and groaned its way down to the first floor. Lance kept a weather eye on Patty, propped against her cheery yellow walker and wearing a housedress with yellow daisies on it. She’d maxed out her cruise luggage allowance with two giant bags weighing fifty pounds each. He didn’t ask what was in there. An extra walker? He didn’t want to know.
They emerged into the lobby where chaos reigned. Turned out, Patty’s packing was conservative compared to the ginormous suitcases littering the lobby. Mendo and Beckham were inside now, having been put to work lining the cases up inside the front doors. Mendo rolled and lifted the bags, Beckham prancing around him like a gremlin intent on tripping him. Mendo was agile, dodging the dog while adding more suitcases to the front-door lineup. It made sense now why Riley’d left LouLou in the apartment for the duration.
“I’ve got it.” Riley’s Grams’ voice rose above the cacophony of the gathered residents. She pulled on the strap of a canvas bag decorated with large palm leaves, but the bag didn’t move more than an inch off the ground before thumping to the floor.
“The cruise is only two weeks long.” Grandpa William—who’d apparently arrived while Lance was sitting on Patty’s hard-sided bags to help her latch them shut—pointed at Grams’ hip-high suitcase with his silver-handled cane. “What in heaven’s name could you possibly have packed?”
“A woman needs to have choices.” Grams patted the suitcase affectionately and attempted to lift the palm-leaf bag again. This time, she got it hiked onto her shoulder with one mighty heave. “I’ve got to keep my options open.”
Grandpa William harrumphed, his usual grumpy demeanor on full display. “Sometimes you have to make a choice.”
Grams struggled with the handle of the silver suitcase, the palm bag swinging forward whenever she leaned in, knocking her hand off the handle every time. “This thing is supposed to roll easily. I can’t imagine what’s wrong with it.”
“Here, Grams.” Riley swooped in, snapped the handle into place, and pushed it toward the door. On her return trip, she grabbed the palm-leaf bag and rolled someone else’s black suitcase behind her.
Lance didn’t know how Riley did it, keeping everyone so organized. He supposed it wasn’t that different from his own job, managing lots of moving parts. The difference was his people were employees or vendors, all with a vested interest in keeping the money flowing from his pockets to theirs. Riley’s residents were a whole other ball game. The process of getting them to the van was an exercise in herding cats. And the van wasn’t even here yet.
“When does our transportation arrive?” Grandpa William clicked across the damaged terrazzo, leaning lightly on his silver-tipped cane. Lance liked to imagine that like a hero from a steampunk novel, his grandpa had a saber or some other deadly weapon custom built into the cane.
“Ask Riley.” Lance shook his grandfather’s hand. The ease he’d felt with Riley and joking with Patty about her body bags evaporated as he endured the familiar sensation of being scrutinized by Grandpa William. Assessed and dismissed.
Grandpa William turned his still-sharp gaze on Riley. “Shouldn’t the van be here already? Check-in starts in fifteen minutes, and it will take us at least that long to load everything.”
Riley looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. So she hadn’t told them that the van was a no-show. Lance hid a smile behind his hand.
“Any minute! The check-in window doesn’t close until 3:00 p.m. We have plenty of time,” she said brightly. Too brightly. “Do you have any other luggage we need to add to the lineup?”
Grandpa William shook his head, pulling a sad face. “Not unless I can sneak Pops in somehow. Are you sure they won’t allow dogs on the cruise? I’m worried he’ll think he’s being abandoned again.”
Riley’s expression changed from barely tolerating stupid questions to stupidly empathetic. “I know, GW. But Pops is in good hands. All dogs love Danielle. They can’t help themselves. She’ll take good care of your fur baby.”
“He’s not my baby.” Grandpa William huffed. “That’s ridiculous. He’s a good roommate, that’s all.”
Yeah, so that had happened. Grandpa William with a pet, a retired greyhound with arthritis no less. When he’d first heard the news, Lance had looked up in the sky, expecting to see a pig or two fly by.
“Danielle? You don’t mean Danielle Morrow, do you?” A voice that Lance had only heard over the phone for far too long joined the conversation.
“Knox!” Lance pumped his older brother’s hand enthusiastically, then gave in and pulled him close for a manly, backslapping half hug. Knox had been back a few weeks, but Lance still hadn’t gotten used to seeing his big brother regularly. “When did you get here?”
“I dropped off Grandpa William, then it took me forever to find a parking space in this neighborhood.” Knox returned the hug stiffly. “About Danielle?”
“Knox!” Riley greeted him with an enthusiastic hug. Knox didn’t seem any more comfortable with Riley’s affection than he had with Lance’s. “You remember Danielle from high school? Her dad’s been Grams’ vet my whole life.”
Knox’s head tipped to the side, like her words were in another language and he was trying to make sense of them.
Riley tried again. “Weren’t you in the same class?”
“Yeah, we graduated the same year.” Knox’s answer was as stiff as his military-trained body. His hand absently played with the thigh strap on the brace that supported his left leg—a visual reminder of the reason he’d had to leave the Marines. What had Knox called it? Medically separated. His only explanation since returning a few weeks ago was “IED,” but Lance hoped to get the whole story out of him soon.
“Weren’t you two a thing back then?” Riley dragged a clearly reluctant Knox further down memory lane. “I was only a freshman when you graduated, but I think I remember you walking around holding hands.”
“Yes.” Knox could be as stingy with words as he was with his smiles. His clipped tone was clearly meant to end that avenue of conversation.
Riley snapped her jaw shut and turned her attention back to directing luggage traffic.
Lance’s gaze took in Knox’s brace and the pain lines etched in his face that made him appear older than his thirty-two years. In every other way, he looked like a Donovan: the blond hair kept high and tight, even shorter than Caleb’s artful fade, and Grandpa William’s blue eyes. Years in the Marines had honed his body into a weapon, muscles bulging out from under his USMC T-shirt, a Semper Fi tattoo peeking out from under the sleeve. Lance recognized the brother he’d seen on holidays and other family gatherings, but in other ways, Knox was a stranger.
Hadn’t Lance met someone named Danielle at Knox’s high school graduation? The picture came back: Knox’s arm around her shoulders, holding her so close to his side that her graduation cap poked his chest. She’d been a good foot shorter than Knox, her freckled face turned up to his, laughing. Two plus two equals high school sweetheart. Lance took pity on his brother. “Danielle works with a greyhound rescue organization. It’s where Grandpa William got Pops. She’s taking the dog back while he’s on the cruise.”
“And she better take good care of him.” Grandpa William punctuated his sentence with a tap of his cane.
Riley placed a soothing hand in the crook of Grandpa William’s arm and steered him toward the front doors. “Pops’ll be fine and very glad to see you when you get back from two whole weeks of sunshine and boozing.”
Grandpa William chuckled and placed his hand over hers. It was clear he had a soft spot for his soon-to-be granddaughter-in-law.
“Thank God,” Lance heard Riley mutter, and her face broke into a smile so wide it could only mean one thing.
Caleb strode up the steps, a white passenger van parked illegally in front of the Dorothy. “Let’s start loading them up. Daylight’s burning.” He joined their group in the lobby and dropped a kiss to Riley’s cheek. “Lead the way, mighty cruise director.”
She made a face at him. “Mom is supposed to handle all of that. She’s the one who got us this deal after all.”
“We both know who’s going to handle everything. And it’s not your mom.” Caleb patted Riley’s shoulder and grabbed the first two bags in the great luggage lineup. “Hey, Knox, what’s up? Lance.” He nodded at both his brothers. “Make yourselves useful, why don’t you?”
Knox shouldered a few bags and one of Patty’s oversize suitcases. Lance pulled a few pieces of luggage to haul himself. “Tell me again how you’re paying for this whole thing. It’s insane.” Once they were outside and out of earshot, he added, “And why is Grandpa William going? He doesn’t even live here.”
Caleb’s sigh was audible. “You know how Dad left our finances in a shambles?”
“Yours.” Lance prided himself on having gotten out years before the Donovan empire fell. “I’m sitting pretty.” He smirked at his brother. “Sitting pretty” might be a slight exaggeration, but his company was stable and work was steady.
“We both are.” Knox’s smirk mirrored Lance’s. “I’ll be cashing checks from the military for life.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Caleb grunted under the weight of Eileen Forsythe’s suitcase that was so old it didn’t even have rollers. “You’re the brilliant ones. I had some private money, of course, but I lost the bulk when Dad went down. Grandpa William didn’t, though, and this cruise was his idea. When he offered to pay for it, Grams threw a fit. So I’m the official benefactor, but Grandpa William’s the one really footing this astronomical bill.”
“Didn’t Riley say you got a deal?” Lance took the lead in loading suitcases onto the van. He enjoyed a good puzzle, and it would take some serious jigsaw skill to fit all the bags and all the people into this small van.
“Sure, and it turns out the cruise is significantly cheaper than putting everyone up in a hotel for a couple of weeks, if you can believe that.” Caleb shoved Eileen’s bag into Lance’s hands with another grunt and took the three carry-ons from Knox’s shoulders. “Even so, this trip isn’t cheap. But Grandpa William was adamant.”
“That’s something else I don’t understand. Why is he even involved? I thought he signed the place over to you. Us.” Lance slammed the back door shut, and they headed back to the lobby for another load, Knox one limping step behind them.
“You don’t know?” Caleb stopped him under a sagging palm tree. The Dorothy needed some landscape help in addition to everything else, but that would come after all the renovations.
“Know what?” Lance stretched his shoulders. Carrying the elderly residents’ luggage was like lugging bricks. He pulled one arm and then the other across his chest. If he’d known he’d be roped into weight-lifting luggage, he’d have done some warm-up stretches.
“I think Grandpa William is trying to win Grams back.” Caleb clapped Lance on the shoulder blade and sent a knowing wink Knox’s way.
Lance was tempted to check the sky for flying pigs. “Aren’t they ancient history?”
Caleb nodded to where Grandpa William sat next to Grams on the old rattan couch in the lobby, his cane planted between
his knees. Grams was laughing, her head thrown back, and Grandpa William watched her like, well, like Caleb watched Riley. Bemused, a little hungry.
“Now that’s the craziest thing I’ve heard today.” Lance shook his head, bemused himself. “Imagine wanting to get back together with an ex. If it didn’t work the first time, what in blazes makes him think it can work now?”
Grams placed her hand on Grandpa William’s leg, right above his knee, and said something that made the old man slap his thigh and laugh.
“Maybe not so crazy.” Caleb rolled his shoulders. “People do change, you know.”
Lance had heard that parenting changed a person, and he couldn’t help but wonder in what ways Carrie might be different now. Was he different, too? The fact that he was talking about his grandfather’s love life with his formerly estranged brothers certainly indicated he wasn’t the same. Would Carrie notice? Would she care? Would she let him get to know his son? She had to. He’d make sure of it.
“We should get back on luggage duty.” Caleb strode toward the building. “Riley’s got a schedule, and we’re already behind.”
“Whatever you say. You’re the boss. Today.” Lance shook out his arms and reminded himself that he couldn’t start his renovation until these bags and residents were on their way. Hopefully, bellboy duty would be the only delay to the renovation schedule. Yeah, right.
Knox grabbed more bags and muscled them out to the van. Lance lagged behind. “He seem okay to you?” He nudged Caleb, watching Knox compensate for the limp with long strides and a lot of power. He and Caleb hadn’t talked much about Knox since his surprising return a few weeks ago. The physical differences in their brother were observable—military fit, the damaged leg. Knox hadn’t stayed in one place long enough for them to assess in what other ways he might’ve changed.
