She slides into the seat beside mine and checks out the scorepad. We all keep track of our own scores. And each other’s. Apparently, it’s the only way to keep everyone honest. When it’s my turn, Dillion makes little noises, as though she disapproves of my choices.
Billy calls her out, and she gives him her innocent doe eyes. “I didn’t say anything!”
“You’re making noises, though. You can’t do that. It’s not allowed. No noises, or you have to leave.”
“Geez, who peed in your cornflakes?”
“I’m one round away from winning—don’t mess it up for me.”
“Mom’s pretty close to you; she could still turn it around.” She grimaces at my score. “Wow, you suck at this game, don’t you?”
“I’m not a betting man.”
“Clearly.”
Five minutes and three more warnings later, Billy wins the game. I thank her mom for dinner and Billy for the ass whupping in Farkle and head back to my place with Dillion.
“I can’t believe my mom invited you over for dinner. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. And that you got dragged into a game of Farkle. That can literally go on forever.”
I usher her into my place, rubbing my hands together as we step inside. The weather has turned, with fall settling in and turning the leaves yellow and orange. “It’s okay. It was fun. Billy seems to be doing great.”
“He really is. So much more himself, but happier, you know? They said sometimes the medication can make people feel flat, but he’s still got his personality, so that’s great. And he loves being back at work. He can’t do the heavy lifting he used to yet, and he can’t operate the machinery, but it’s a step in the right direction for him.”
“I’m glad. It’s like a one-eighty from how he was when he broke his ankle.” I pick up the box of files sitting on the couch and catch my foot on the coffee table. I must do it at least once a week, and I have the bruises on my shins to prove it. The furniture is slightly too large and the table awkward to get around. The box tips over, and half the contents dump out onto the floor. “Ah crap.”
I set the box down and push the table out of the way so I can gather up the fallen papers.
“Is that a manual for a VHS player? Those have been obsolete for decades.” Dillion bends to help me clean up the mess.
“Bee kept every manual for everything she ever bought, apparently. You can toss it into the box over there. That’s all for the burn pile. We’re going to have one hell of a bonfire when I’m finished going through her filing cabinets.”
“We can make s’mores and talk about the good old days when things didn’t break within six months of buying them.”
I smile, aware she was referencing Grammy Bee’s irritation with our disposable society. “She registered everything she could for a warranty. I remember when she took back a set of sheets she’d had for twenty years because the seam started ripping.”
“She had Tupperware from the seventies and made them replace it because the seal had gone on something! It was hilarious.”
“And embarrassing if you were in the store with her and she was making a fuss.”
Dillion chuckles and picks up another manual. This one for a toaster. Something falls out of it and flutters to the coffee table. “Oh man, did she even keep the receipts? I wonder what a toaster cost back in the day.”
We’re both laughing when her eyes suddenly go wide and she drops the manual and picks up the receipt. “Oh my gosh, Van. Look at this!” She holds it out to me.
I frown as I inspect what looks like a bond note from the sixties in the sum of $100,000. “Is this real? This can’t be real.”
“I don’t know. That was her bank.”
“Do you think it’s the only one?” We look at each other and then the pile of manuals on the floor.
We abandon the box and start leafing through them, shaking them out one at a time. Each manual contains a single bond note in various sums. Some are as small as five grand; others are worth as much as a hundred thousand. When we’re done with that pile, we go through the ones in the burn box and find even more.
We keep sifting through her files and eventually stumble on her stock portfolio. The most recent statement is from last year; the amount of money is staggering. We sit on the floor in the midst of the discarded papers and stare at the stack of bond notes. Some are in Grammy’s name, others in mine, Teagan’s, and Bradley’s. It makes me sad that he’s put himself in such a terrible situation when, if he’d just been patient, he would have known she hadn’t left him out. In some ways, I wish Grammy hadn’t made us play this game of hide-and-seek, but I understand why she did. She always wanted to bring us together.
“I had no idea about any of this. The stashes around the house, yes, but not this,” Dillion says softly. “I would have said something a long time ago if I’d known.”
“I know you would have. I thought the stashes around the house were going to help me clean this place up, but this could set us up for generations.”
“Are you going to share it with Teagan?” she asks.
I realize then what I’ve said, and how in my head I’ve included Dillion in the us. It’s what I want: for her and me to be something that lasts. But I don’t correct her, because I’m not sure where she’s at, and asking that when we’ve just stumbled on millions of dollars doesn’t seem like the best idea.
“She deserves her share, and maybe Bradley will one day too. Now we have exactly what we need to clean up the beach on this side.”
Dillion smiles. “You really want to do that?”
“All my best memories are wrapped up in this place.” And you, I want to say, but I don’t. “I want this to be a place my kids can come to, and theirs after that. If I can do things to help this community, I want to. Bee would want me to. I’m going to make some calls in the morning. See what’s possible.”
“After you go to the bank.”
“Right. After I go to the bank.”
The next morning I take the bond notes to the bank to see if I’m excited about nothing. It turns out that I’m excited for a very good reason. Millions of very good reasons.
I set up a meeting with a financial adviser for early the following week and stop by the town hall. I expect that I’ll have to set up a meeting, but the town councilor invites me straight into her office. I tell her what I want to do and how I’d like to get the beach back into shape so the community on this side of the lake can have a place to take their families, just like my grandmother did. With the promise of money to help fund the project, and a consistent budget to maintain it, the councilor seems to be on board.
If I can secure all the permits for things like public washrooms and new docks over the winter, we should be able to start the project as soon as the ice melts off the lake.
I don’t think it’s possible for anything to spoil my good mood. And then my phone rings.
I check the caller ID.
It’s my former boss.
CHAPTER 28
STAY FOR ME
Dillion
The office door swings open, and Van walks in. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans, a pale-blue T-shirt that has seen better days, and a black jacket. His hair is windblown, and his cheeks are flushed. Fall has settled over Pearl Lake, turning the leaves the color of fire.
My gaze finally meets his, and my smile drops. His eyes are wide, slightly manic. “Are you alone?” He closes the door behind him, a gust of crisp autumn air making the papers on my desk ruffle.
“Yeah. Everyone’s out on a job. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen? Please tell me the bond notes weren’t fake.”
He gives his head a quick shake. “They weren’t fake. And something happened.”
“Something bad or good?”
“The CEO of my old company called.”
“Okay.” I can’t read his expression, which makes me nervous.
“They offered me my old job back.”
I lean back in my chair, and it r
olls a couple of feet away from my desk. “Oh. Wow. And how do you feel about that?”
“Good. I think I feel good about it. They offered me a promotion, a change to a new department where I’ll get to work on restoration projects. They even offered me a raise, and an apology.”
“Are you going to take it? Do you want to?” Are you leaving me? is the question I don’t ask.
He drops into the chair on the other side of the desk and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. At first I was like ‘Fuck no,’ because I was fired for no valid reason, but they’ve offered me my dream job. And I know I don’t technically have to work any kind of job if I don’t want to, thanks to Grammy Bee, but retirement seems like something I should think about twenty years from now.”
I smile. “Well, that makes sense. I can see retirement before thirty being premature.”
He runs his hands down his thighs. “They offered to double my salary. And I’ll be able to keep an eye on Teagan and my dad. It seems like a smart move?” It comes out more question than statement.
I don’t want to rain on his parade, or his good news, or make this about me. If I were in his position and my former company offered me my job back at double the salary, and an opportunity to be closer to my family again, I’d probably be inclined to take it. Van is close with his sister, and since all the crap that’s gone down with his brother, Van and his dad have gotten a lot closer. While there are still limits to that relationship, I would never want to stand in the way of his rebuilding a connection that’s long been broken. “When would you start?”
He drums his fingers on the arm of the chair. “In a couple of weeks.”
“So you’ll be moving back to the city?” Just saying it out loud makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. From the moment Van moved into Bee’s cottage, I knew it was temporary, that eventually he would go back to the city, because that’s where all the great architecture jobs are. But I didn’t expect the news to hurt as much as it does. And that’s just the idea of it, not his actually moving.
“Come with me,” he says. “I know maybe you can’t do that right away because of your dad and working for his company, but once things are under control here, you can move back to the city with me. I’m sure I can pull some strings and get you an interview at my company. You’d be a fantastic fit. You’re already staying with me most of the time now, so moving in together wouldn’t even be much of a transition. And we could work in different departments so we’re not in the same space, if you don’t want to make it weird or anything.”
His excitement makes me giddy, and my immediate gut reaction is to say yes, because I don’t want to lose this man. Over the past few months, I’ve fallen undeniably, hopelessly in love with him. As much as I want to be with him, I worry that following him back to the city will be trading one kind of happiness for another.
“I love you,” I say gently.
“I love you too.” He swallows thickly, his smile uncertain.
“I came back to Pearl Lake because I felt an obligation to help my family.” I look around the office, at the space I’ve made my own over the past several months.
“I know. And you’ve been amazing. Footprint Renovations has never done better.”
I nod, although I’m not the reason for the success; I’m just part of the package. “Now that I’ve had a chance to spend some time here and rebuild all the relationships I let languish when I moved to the city, I’ve realized that it wasn’t the town that was the problem. It was me and the situation I put myself in. I wanted out because I didn’t know how to fix the mess I’d made, and now things are different. I’m different.”
“You don’t want to leave anymore.” His voice is laced with sadness and understanding.
I shake my head. “I understand that you need to do what’s best for you, and if that’s taking your old job back, then that’s what you should do. I want to be with you, Van. I love what we have, but this is my home. My heart is yours, but it belongs here.”
CHAPTER 29
I MISS YOU ALREADY
Dillion
The first month is a rough transition. Midweek visits are basically impossible as Van dives headfirst into his new job.
I end up going to Chicago for the first weekend instead of him coming home to Pearl Lake, but it wasn’t at all what we expected. He worked most of the weekend, leaving me to entertain myself and solidifying my resolve that I’m done with living in the city. But I’m determined to make our relationship work, because I love him more than I thought possible.
Tawny and Allie turn Wednesdays into a girls’ night to break up the week. We hang out like old times, and I tell them all about the hockey players on the other side of the lake while they share the town gossip. I find out that Tucker and Sue finally broke things off, only after a paternity test proved that the baby wasn’t his. Sue ended up moving to the next town over, incidentally where Sterling happens to live. As bad as I feel for Tucker, he made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.
Even with the girls’ nights and all the dinners with my family, I’ve gotten used to having Van around all the time, so scaling back to two days a week is an adjustment, and not a great one. Especially when he has to cut the next weekend short because of a project he needs to finish. One night with him out of fourteen isn’t sustainable.
We talk every night on the phone, but he’s always tired by the end of the day, and it isn’t the same as having him next to me. He’s offered to let me stay at Bee’s, but it feels weird without him. Far lonelier than my trailer.
Finally, six weeks after he takes the job in the city, I get him for a three-day weekend. He’s due home in a couple of hours, so I shower, shave, do my hair, and even put on makeup before I head over to Van’s and start preparing dinner, wanting to be there when he finally arrives home.
At six thirty I give in and message, asking about an ETA. It takes half an hour for him to message me back, and when he does, it’s with a “Sorry, had an impromptu dinner meeting,” and he’s just leaving now.
I stand in the kitchen, staring at the chopped veggies and the dressed chicken while fighting tears. I’m not a crier—I never have been—but the past several weeks have been hard without Van, and instead of things getting easier with time, everything’s grown increasingly more difficult. Long-distance relationships are tough, and I’ve always been a proximity person.
I put all the food away, saving it for tomorrow night, and make myself a grilled cheese instead. By the time Van gets home, it’s nearly eight thirty. He drops his duffel bag at the door, and I don’t even have a chance to pull my depressed ass off the couch before he’s straddling my lap, one knee sinking into the cushions on either side of me, hands in my hair, thumbs under my chin, tipping my head back.
“I missed you so much.” His eyes search mine for a moment, hot and needy and desperate, before he slants his mouth over mine.
We don’t make it to the bedroom, instead frantically stripping in the middle of the living room. The coffee table gets shoved out of the way. We nearly break a lamp, and the couch creaks ominously beneath us, but we both seem to need the connection in a way that defies logic and reason. Also, the couch is seven million years old and probably needs to be replaced.
Half an hour and two orgasms later, I’m wearing Van’s dress shirt and nothing else, and he’s in boxers and a pair of sweats. It’s too cold to go shirtless, so eventually he pulls on a Henley, and we snuggle on the couch.
“I’m sorry I was so late getting home.” He kisses my temple.
“It’s okay, I know it’s been busy.”
“Mmm.” He plays with my fingers. “It has been. Busier than I anticipated, really. I actually had a meeting with my boss this evening about my contract.”
“Oh?” I tip my head up to meet his gaze.
He seems nervous. “I showed him some of the designs I was working on while I was here this summer. They wanted to shift me into lead architect for one of our big clients.”
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p; My stomach twists uncomfortably. “That sounds amazing. What exactly does that entail?”
“I’d be the lead for an entire project. So if a client wants a new green space designed, I’d oversee everything from an architectural standpoint. I’d have a team working under me and everything.”
“That’s incredible.” I know from my time doing project management that managing a team is a huge job, especially in a big company. He’ll have to work longer hours and be in the city probably more than he already is. I want to be happy for him, but I don’t know what that means for us.
“It is, but I said I couldn’t take it unless they gave me flex hours.”
“Flex hours? Why?”
“Because I decided I don’t love long-distance relationships or being away from you for five days at a time. So I said I’d take the position, but only if they cut my in-office time to three days a week.”
“What did they say?” My heart is in my throat, and I try to tamp down my hope.
“That they would do their best to accommodate my request, and I’ll still get the raise. There will be times when I’m needed more, but usually I’ll only need to be in the city a few days a week at most. I can supplement with virtual meetings when they’re necessary.”
“And this is what you want?”
“Absolutely. There are things I want to do here, like getting the garage loft finished, starting the cottage renovations, and cleaning up the beach come spring. If I’m in the city most of the time, I won’t be able to tackle any of those things effectively or efficiently. Besides, I love you more than I love this job, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.”
“What about your family? What about Teagan and your dad?”
“I’ll still see them when I’m in the city, and they’re not far. I want more days with you than without you. I want to put down roots and build a life, and I want to do that here, with you.”
EPILOGUE
MATCHMAKER IN HEAVEN
Van
Six months later
Love Next Door Page 28
