“It’s eleven on a Monday. Mother doesn’t have any meetings on Mondays. And father is probably in his study. He doesn’t go into the office until after lunch on Monday. Neither of them enjoy the beginning of the week.”
She gave him a curt nod and grabbed the small gift bag at her feet. He held his tongue. She didn’t need to bring a hostess gift to visit her own daughter. But he knew arguing with her would be pointless. She hated showing up empty-handed. He hopped out of the car and walked around the car to hold open the door for her and offer her his hand. The bucket seats were a little difficult for her to get out of, not that she’d admit it. He probably wouldn’t either.
He shut the door behind her and led her to a small door built into the stonewall near the garage. He pulled his keys out to unlock the wooden door. In the month since he’d been gone, they hadn’t changed the locks. The old hinges groaned as he pushed the door open. Offering a hand to his grandmother, he helped her cross over the threshold. The slate tiles in the courtyard were notorious for being slippery with the tiniest bit of rain. Closing the door, he helped his grandmother walk through the courtyard past the main fountain and around the benches, picking their way past potted plants. At the kitchen door, his grandmother pulled him to a stop.
“Shouldn’t we have walked to the front door and rung the bell?” she asked, her hand clutching his sleeve tightly.
He hoped his smile was reassuring. He’d never seen her out of her element. She controlled every situation with an iron fist. She was never unprepared or surprised. But now he glimpsed her vulnerability and her nerves.
“This is fine. I’m not ringing my own doorbell.”
The doorknob twisted in his grip, and he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. To his surprise, his mother sat just inside the door, drinking her coffee at the kitchen table with a magazine in front of her. Her mouth gaped open when he walked in, but the minute she saw his companion, her eyes widened and her face turned white. She glanced past him and slowly stood.
His mother had always been the loveliest woman in the world. While his grandmother exuded strength, his mother was sweetness. Her shoulder length brown hair fell in soft natural waves, the opposite of her mother’s sleek style. And while his grandmother stood tall with perfectly erect posture at his eye level, the top of his mother’s head barely reached his shoulder.
She rounded the table and approached the pair. The closer she came the easier it was to see the gleam of tears forming in her eyes. At his side, his grandmother had frozen in her place. For the first time in his life, he worried she’d crumple to the ground. She continued to clutch onto his sleeve, and he put his other hand under her elbow to steady her. When his mother approached, Landon delicately extricated his grandmother. In one step, she closed the gap between them and hugged her daughter.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” his mother said through a hiccup after pulling away.
“I’m sorry I haven’t just done this before,” his grandmother admitted.
His mother shook her head to dismiss the apology. “I’ve let pride keep me away from you too.”
Grandmother put an arm around her waist and hugged her to her side. “Let’s just start from here. It took me seeing how ridiculous your son is being with his father to realize what I had done and what I was missing out on.”
“I love you, Mama,” she replied.
They embraced again and Landon swiped at his nose. The scene was touching. He was glad he had spurred them to reconcile. He was proud of his grandmother for admitting she was wrong and for putting her pride aside to make the first move. He didn’t think his meeting with father would be so smooth.
“Is he upstairs?” Landon cleared his throat.
His mother nodded. She didn’t need any further information or explanation. She broke from her mother to give him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Landon returned her embrace before stalking out of the room. The kitchen opened into a family room, the most casual space in the entire home and the space where he’d spent most of his life. Exiting the family room, he came to the long hallway, spanning the entire u-shaped home. His steps echoed off the paneled corridor. The sconces spaced evenly cast light onto the floor until the corridor opened up to the foyer at the middle of the building. Natural light flooded the space with large windows on the second story illuminating the grand staircase. He knew the tap tap tap of his shoes against the staircase gave away his presence. He couldn’t stop now. At the top of the stairs, Landon knocked on the first door, his father’s study.
“Come in,” the deep voice of Landon Beau III boomed.
Twisting the knob, Landon entered the room. His father sat at the opposite corner of the room, lounging in his wingback chair behind a large partner’s desk. In his experience, his father had never needed or had a partner. He was the boss.
“Landon.” His father dropped the papers he’d been holding to the desk and stood in place.
Landon shut the door behind him and crossed the room. He took one of the seats opposite, and after a moment, his father sat down.
“Surprised?” he quirked an eyebrow at the older version of himself seated across from him.
Their resemblance had been uncanny from the beginning. Landon hoped he’d age as well with only a few strands of grey at the temples coloring his hair. His father retained his fit physique even though Landon had never seen the man exercise beyond golf.
“Wouldn’t a phone call have been easier?” The older man challenged, sitting back in his chair, resuming his seniority in their relationship.
“Not necessarily. Either way I have to tell you that I lost all of my investors. Or at least all that I can track down. But you already know that.”
“I do.”
“If you’re trying to figure out when I’ll be back to work—”
His father raised a hand to cut him off. Landon clamped his lips.
“You’ve never had to prove anything to me.”
“Father, look I know you don’t expect much from me,” he began again.
“No stop, let me say my peace,” his father interrupted again. “Do you know what an easy child you were? Your mother and I never had to push you to succeed. You pushed yourself. You challenged yourself.”
“That’s not the way it’s looked to me.”
“What do you mean?”
His father leaned forward. The unwavering eye contact should have been intimidating. Landon knew that stare had worn down many a lesser man. But he had nothing to hide and no reason to squirm. No matter how this meeting ended, Landon would walk away on his own path, back to her.
“When I came home the week before graduation to tell you about my plans, you shot them down.”
“Landon, I didn’t know—”
“Stop, my turn,” he held up a hand to stall his father. He’d never dared to defy the man before. But this conversation was too important for interruptions. “I came home to tell you I was engaged and going to start my own company. But you demanded I move home, and you dismissed my engagement out of hand.”
“Put yourself in our shoes. You were twenty-three, you come home to tell us you were engaged to someone we’d never met before, and you wanted to move away to be with this woman. Everything you said that weekend was so out of character, of course we dismissed it. You’d always been the model son, and suddenly you wanted to strike out on your own? We’d always talked about you becoming part of the company, and then you didn’t want any part of it.”
“She was pregnant.”
“What?”
“She was pregnant. She ended up losing the baby and disappearing on me. She’d inspired me to make something for myself instead of just follow in your footsteps.”
“Can I ask what is so wrong about following in my footsteps?”
“Nothing,” Landon muttered.
“I took over my father’s company. And you know what? I took that as an opportunity to build the company into something he never could have imagined. We’ve handled nearly ever
y major project in Savannah and Hilton Head for the last three decades. That was me. I made my own name, even though I shared it with him. And I share it with you.”
“You’ve never expected more from me than to just assume the ownership when you pass it down to me.”
“That’s not true. That’s been your interpretation, but that’s not the way it’s been at all. You are creative. You see the world differently from me. I know you think I thought your tiny house development idea was crazy. That’s why I invested under a false name.”
Landon sat upright. His father was the investor he couldn’t locate.
“I didn’t know that by not pushing you I was going to push you away. Yes, I do want you to take over my company one day. But if you don’t want to, then I’ll figure out something else.”
“You invested in me?”
His father nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I think you have vision and I believe in you. So tell me what’s the plan.”
“I don’t know. I lost the land.”
“Let’s go somewhere else. Let’s find another beach community. There are plenty of spots on the coast to make this happen.”
“No, it has to be St. Simons.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s there.”
“Is this woman the reason you never dated anyone when you moved home? Your mother kept pushing to try to set you up with someone. I told her to back off.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. I met someone and fell for her hard, and there’s never been anyone else. I saw her in a picture Grandmother sent from one of her tap recitals. And that was when I knew I had to step up make a move.”
“So now what?”
“She has some ideas that are pretty interesting actually. But it would be developing several smaller properties instead of one large development.”
“That could be interesting. Do you need investors?”
Landon smiled and reached his hand across the desk. His father took it in his and shook. Being on the same page for the first time since childhood, peering across the table and seeing pride and respect in his father’s eyes, the day had gone better than he could have hoped. Now he had to get back and get to work. The next planning committee meeting was in less than a week and he had a lot to plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Taking a step back, Kim studied the wall. Phil and Trish had managed to find a contractor to demolish the bathroom and leave her with a blank palette in record time. Now it was up to Kim to get to work. She’d only have one week and the two weekends that bookended it to transform the bathroom while Phil completed a few other upgrades around the closed bar.
Sketches had covered her living room floor and every spare scrap of paper she could find. In the six days since she’d last seen Landon, she’d been swamped at work filing reports, applying for grants, and contracting archaeologists to start uncovering the rest of the site. She had to move fast. The planning committee meeting on Tuesday was their earliest opportunity to begin the process of rezoning the land before applying to the government for protection as a state historic site.
With another meeting not scheduled for several months, it would be Landon’s best shot to get the building off Frederica rezoned too. But then he’d have needed to contact the owner about purchasing it, and he’d have to have plans drawn up to show the committee. She longed to call him and find out if he’d thought anymore about the project. She wished he’d stop by and talk. He seemed to have disappeared. She didn’t feel like she could complain or demand an explanation. She’d done the same.
“Wow, you drew that fast,” Shazz commented as she slid out of her shoes outside the open door and walked inside.
“Oh yeah, I’ve been drawing these figures all week.” To help keep my mind occupied when I’m not at work.
“I love the mermaid in between the mirrors touching up her lip-gloss.”
Kim smiled. “She’s my favorite too.”
“What are we doing for the floor?”
Considering the ground under her feet, she refused to let the size of this project overwhelm her. She knew she wanted to focus on the details of the mermaids and scatter fish and seaweed along the floor. She wouldn’t have time to entirely mosaic the ground, which gave her a pang of regret. She’d always loved pictures of mosaic floors from Roman ruins.
“I think mostly we will use regular square tiles but we’ll cut out sections to add sea life in diagonal rows to give the floor some interest. I’m just about ready to go to the store if you are. I need to pick the floor tile, so I can understand how to fit everything together.”
“Hold it right there,” a firm voice demanded.
Kim snapped to attention and clasped her hands behind her back. She’d heard that commanding voice a few times before. But never directed at her. Standing in the doorway, intimidating as ever in pressed chinos and a matching sweater set, stood Marie Smith-Thomson. Kim gulped.
“Hi honey, can you come talk to us for a minute,” her grandma’s voice added.
Grandma Rose peeked around the edge of the doorway, blocking Marie.
“Ooh, this is lovely,” Grandma Rose added and stepped into the room.
Kim fought off a cringe when she realized Grandma hadn’t taken off her shoes. She’d wanted to keep the floor pristine until she’d had a chance to sketch across it. She gave that up when Grandma walked further into the room to study her work.
“I can’t wait until this is finished,” she continued.
“You want have long to wait. I have to get everything done by next weekend so they can put the toilets and sinks back in.”
“Come on outside and chat with us,” her grandma said, grabbing her lightly by the elbow and attempting to steer her outside.
“I don’t know if I have time ladies. Shazz and I are on our way to the store.”
“Make time. I need five minutes.” Marie Smith-Thomson held her chin up and spun on her heel to glide out of the doorway. Her steps echoing in the empty bar.
“Grandma, why did you call her?” Kim whispered.
“Honey, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll just be a few minutes, Shazz,” Kim apologized.
“Take your time. I’m going to run upstairs and get my purse,” the younger woman replied before skipping from the room.
Shazz didn’t know either her grandma or Marie Smith-Thomson, but she must have sensed the lecture on its way because she moved out of the bathroom like a rabbit. Kim heard the door to the back stairs open and shut before she’d even made it to the bar.
Marie sat at a table, with her legs crossed and her posture perfect. She appeared like the queen of the space, dignified and determined even in the dim glow of the fluorescent lights. Kim fought to keep her nerves under control as she pulled out a chair and joined the table. Grandma sat in between them like a referee.
“I’d always liked you, Kim, but now I’m not so sure,” Marie said.
Kim gulped, fisted her hands in her lap, and crossed her legs at the ankles. She wasn’t prepared for a fight. But she’d defend herself if it came to that.
“I didn’t know any of the history between you and my grandson until very recently. Not until your grandmother called to tell me.”
Kim wanted to glare at her grandma. When she’d agreed to let grandma talk to Miss Marie, she’d never imagined her confidant would divulge everything. Why had she gone to Marie with the most sensitive information?
“I don’t know why any of this matters now,” Kim began, grasping onto her wrists to keep from emphasizing her point with her hands. Her words were spoken calmly, evenly, but inside her nerves had electrified her skin. She wanted to get up and pace about the room. She kept still. “He’s leaving, right?”
Marie pursed her lips but didn’t add anything.
“I only found out about this, Marie,” her grandma interjected. “They’ve both been hurt by each other, real bad. I didn’t call you and tell you so you’d blame Ki
m. She’s been through enough. Kim, Marie and I had a long talk on the phone and we’ve come to one conclusion.”
“You need to fight for him,” Marie interjected.
“Me? I’ve been trying to. I came up with a plan for him. He dismissed it. He’s not fighting for us. He’s just given up.”
“Honey,” Grandma reached over to grab one of her hands and pull it out of her lap and onto the table. “At some point in every relationship, the woman has to take charge and stop her man from self-destructing. This is that moment for you and Landon.”
“And you agree with her?” Kim shot Marie a questioning glance.
Marie tilted her head back and gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.
“Kim, I think your idea is great and so does Marie.”
“But Landon doesn’t, so what’s the point?”
“Making a man think your idea is his idea is the key ingredient to a successful relationship.”
“I haven’t even seen him in a week. What am I supposed to do? Track him down? Get him talking and make him agree to this idea? And even then, the next meeting to have the land rezoned is in three days. There is no way to get everything resolved and worked out before then.”
“No, but you can try.”
“How?”
“Why don’t you start the conversation,” Marie interjected. “Start asking questions. You don’t have to submit a full proposal to do that. And maybe you can drum up interest in the project. He still needs investors, right?”
Kim pulled her hand out of her grandma’s and leaned back in the chair. These two wanted her to do the impossible. Add on the project at the bar and all the work she still had to finish up for her own proposal for her job and she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Fight for him.
Oh she wanted to fight for him. She wanted to so badly. Fear of being rejected held her back. She’d run off the first time over the same fear. Maybe now was the time for action. Maybe now was the time to hold her ground. Maybe they could come out stronger on the other side if she did.
“Okay, I get it. He needs a lot. He needs capital, and I can’t help with that. At least not on such short notice. But I’ll be at the meeting on Tuesday night anyway. I guess I can try to write up a proposal about re-zoning or at least try to start the conversation and ask questions. I can see if anyone thinks the idea is interesting and maybe that can get the ball rolling. But I don’t have time to do any more. I’ll see what I can learn at the meeting, and then I’ll stop by the house to talk with him.”
Coastal Erosion Page 19
