by Zane Morrow
At this both eyes opened and fixed on me. “I think the better question would be, how are you?” Her lips pursed a moment as she waited for my reaction. Though I hadn’t spoken my shoulders sank involuntarily. “Ah, adequately contrite, I see.” She nodded.
“I have no idea what came over me,” I gushed honestly. “You must believe this is completely uncharacteristic.” I opened my mouth to say more, but she interrupted.
“Young Blake.” Miss Milly grinned at me. “Do you think I haven’t watched you grow up? Do you think I don’t know you?” She chuckled and shook her head slightly. “My dear boy, do you think I don’t know what’s changed?”
My head hung. “I drank entirely too much,” I admitted.
“That’s not it.” She narrowed her eyes and I swear she looked into my soul.
My frustration and shame grew. It was a dangerous combination. Historically speaking, it had a tendency to make me volatile. As much as I wanted to hold it together, I had long ago neared my breaking point. “Well, if you’re so smart, then why don’t you enlighten me? What the hell is wrong with me?” I realized the error of my ways immediately and my jaw snapped shut. Glancing to my left, I saw a chair and collapsed into it. Then I leaned forward and rubbed my hands over my face. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, afraid to face her.
“You’re forgiven. It’s my fault really.” Miss Milly shook her head. “I knew you and Grace would make an interesting match. I failed to anticipate the fireworks which might follow, however.” She shrugged. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean? Wait. You don’t want me to stay away from Grace?” My eyes widened and my heart rate escalated as hope filled me.
“Please. You two are perfect for each other…as long as neither one of you ruins it.” She studied my face. “You won’t ruin it, will you? I’m trusting you, Blake Morgan. Grace is special.”
I reached out to hold her hand between both of mine. “Don’t I know it.” I blew out a breath. “So what do you suggest?”
Her head tilted. “For one, ease up on the alcohol.”
“Done.” I nodded eagerly.
“Two…and this one is imperative. Are you ready?” Miss Milly frowned and I knew this next bit of advice was going to be huge.
“I’m ready.” I squeezed her hands. “Tell me. Anything.” I meant it. I really did.
“Good. Then marry her.” She closed her eyes and leaned back into the pillows.
“Just how strong are those pain meds? Did the drugs get to you? You can’t be serious.” I spluttered, even as I wondered why I was truly objecting.
“Dead serious.” She didn’t even glance my direction. “I’m dying, Blake.”
“Miss Milly.” I sighed patiently. “You broke a hip. Sure, if you were a horse, you’d have been put down, but you’re not. You’ll recover and terrorize many generations to come out on the golf course.” I chuckled as I imagined her driving around on her fancy golf cart.
This time she turned her head and sighed while her sad eyes tore into my heart. “They found cancer.”
“What?” My brows furrowed.
“When I fell. My hip broke because my bone was weakened from a cancer I didn’t know I had. Now my days are numbered. Double digits, Blake. That’s the time I have left.” She blew out a breath and I watched a single tear trickle from one eye.
“You’re serious.” My head felt ready to explode. “So…”
“I need to know Grace is taken care of. I need to know the island is secure.” She took a breath and this time I was the one to interrupt.
“Secure. You make it sound like a battleground, a military installation. It’s the playground for the wealthy,” I grumbled.
“Yes. And they battle constantly. It takes a firm hand and a strong person to lead them, keep them in line, make sure they don’t succumb to petty bickering and idle pursuits.” Miss Milly squeezed my hand. “They need Grace. They need you. Together, you can keep the island strong.” She laughed. “Who am I kidding? Together, you can make it better in a way I never could.” She eyed me seriously. “Together. You must be together.”
Her idea was more than a little tempting. It would be so easy to give in, but I needed to protect Grace from me. “I don’t know, Miss Milly. I think Grace can do better.” Her response surprised me.
“She probably could, but I don’t want that for her.” My face had fallen and she noticed. “Blake, you know yours won’t be a peaceful union. You know you two will bicker and banter. These challenges are when she truly shines.” Miss Milly grinned. “With you, she’ll glow.”
I considered her words. “Sadly, it doesn’t matter what you want or even what I hope for. Grace…well, she drove me home this morning and left without so much as a word. She doesn’t want me.”
“Blame that on me.” She sighed. “I summoned her. She worried over you, worried about leaving you the way she did, but I gave her no choice.” This time, she yawned.
“I saw that.” I released her hand, stood and leaned over her on the bed. “I’ll see what I can do.” I was poised to kiss her forehead when she spoke.
“Don’t see. Make it happen. I expect to attend one last Morgan wedding before I pass.” She settled into her pillows.
“Double digits, you said. So, that’s what? Ninety-nine days, give or take?” My brows rose and chewed on my cheek.
“The doctors gave me a month.” She closed her eyes, probably refusing to meet mine.
“I’ll do my best.” My shoulders drooped under the weight of her request.
“No, you’ll make it happen.” Miss Milly crossed her arms over her chest.
In my throat, I growled. “Rest. I’ll come see you soon.” Then I finally pressed my lips to her wrinkled forehead before exiting the room.
Thirty days. In that short period of time we’d have to date, get engaged, and even marry. Nothing to it. As I trudged out to the vehicle, I swear I could feel a migraine coming on.
19
While I didn’t have a minute to lose, I also didn’t have a plan to put into action. Sunday ended up being a day of rest, a day of recovery, a day of careful consideration. After all, Monday promised to be super painful. My mother’s looming threat to rock my world. Oh, make that my miserable little world. Then there was the pressure of trying to figure out how to fix things with Grace. How the hell was I going to further our relationship? Maybe having Miss Milly on my side would help.
Following a restless day, I called it an early night and turned in by nine. Naturally, I slept poorly, woke well before my alarm, and decided to work out. It was my feeble attempt to sweat out the bad, and get my head right. My mother could be scary.
Finally, I’d killed enough time to drive to the office and arrive at an acceptable hour, the sweet spot between ridiculously early and dangerously close to angering the dragon. For the first hour, I managed to find enough work to stay busy in my office. Then my mother arrived and it was time to face the board and the music. I calmly took my seat at the head of the table with my mother to my right. Apparently, all this time she had allowed me to believe I was in charge given my position within the company. Following our discussion at the wedding I now realized I didn't hold the power I once believed I did. Grace sat at the opposite end of the table closer to Trent. At first, I hoped to catch her attention, but she seemed determined to ignore me. The head of the board called the meeting to order and gave my mother the floor. Immediately, she stood and spoke while pacing around. “As many of you know, the question of the day centers around the future of Camp Hope. Little more than a week ago, my son, Blake, planned to close Camp Hope at the end of the summer. Thanks to a generous donation from one of our own members, for the first time in several years the camp won't be running on an austerity budget. Let's give Trent a round of applause.”
Everyone around the table began clapping politely. Soon my mother continued. This time she stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders. I have never felt more uncomfortable in my life. Al
l eyes were on me. I could feel the judgement, the tension in the room as they waited for my mother to have her say. While I couldn’t care less what others thought, worrying how Grace saw me was eating me up inside. More than anything, I longed for a chance to explain everything, even if it meant revealing secrets I’d vowed to keep a lifetime ago.
“It is my contention that Camp Hope is about far more than turning a profit. This camp had been my husband's dream his way of giving back. The very last thing I want to see is his legacy destroyed. My belief is that we can work together to find a way to fund this non-profit without devouring company resources.” Her nails bit into my clavicles. I could actually feel her thinly-veiled rage.
“And just how do you propose to do this, Mother?” I turned around in my seat to face her. Finally, she released her hold on me and clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I think we have effectively proven through the charts and graphs I sent to every member of this board, the camp is a drain and we have nowhere near enough funding to make running it long term feasible.”
Soon, she settled back into her seat, crossed her legs elegantly, and smiled at me. I'm sure others at the table thought it was a loving gesture, but I knew better. This was where mother was prepared to prove her point. Her plans for rocking my world were about to be revealed. “Well, Blake. Since you asked, I thought we might begin by staffing the camp with more volunteers and fewer paid employees.”
I watched as Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I've known her long enough by now to realize she probably imagined her time at the camp was coming to an end. As much as the place meant to her, I'm certain she feared the worst. Even though I'd been the one to suggest closing the place and destroying the one thing she was most passionate about, now I had to find a way to ensure she wouldn't be hurt. “I'm not convinced that's the best idea, Mother. See, running the place truly requires experienced staff, educated individuals trained and devoted to helping these kids. This is one area we should never consider cutting corners. Quite frankly, I'm surprised you'd even suggest such a thing.”
My mother cackled. And now everyone looked more than a little uncomfortable. “Oh, hear me out first. This is your father's legacy and Grace’s livelihood. While we need to keep trained counselors on staff, there are plenty of positions that can be filled by volunteers. For example, you'd make a fine janitor.” Her brow shot up in challenge.
I pursed my lips a moment as I carefully considered my next words. “Yes, I’ve been on clean-up for years.” I sighed and looked down at my hands, now folded on the table. I was dangerously close to revealing all. My mother had been pushing my buttons since the meeting started. I took a deep breath and peeked toward the end of the table where Grace sat. Why was she so far away? I needed her soothing touch. For a moment, I recognized the pained look on her face and I hoped she was sympathizing with me at least a little. Still, regardless of what her expression meant, it merely strengthened my resolve. “While I’d love to help, I’m a little busy these days, you know, running the company.”
“Yes, and as the acting CEO, it’s your job to act as an example, just as your father did for all those years.” My mother leaned in and glared at me. “You could learn a lot from him. He was a shining example of everything you should be, but aren’t.” She shook her head in disappointment.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Trent smirking as he sat beside Grace. I took some comfort in her reaction, which suggested she not only hurt for me, but was disgusted by my mother. Slowly, I licked my lips. “Of course. I could try that.”
“You will try that. You’re going to be the next generation of shining examples.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest resolutely as if it had already been decided.
The thought of returning to the camp froze the blood in my veins. “I’m a shining CEO. Let Brett volunteer. He has no real job.”
“Brett’s on his honeymoon right now. You should know this. You were at the wedding.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “Oh, that’s right. You left early.”
I rubbed my face with my hands. This couldn’t get much more painful. I tried to figured out a suitable objection to her decision. Only mother wasn’t done yet.
“Grace, dear?” Mother waited for her to respond.
“Yes, Miss Shelby?” She frowned, obviously nervous with the new attention she had received.
“Do you have internet at the camp?” My mother leaned on the table and smiled sweetly at Grace.
“Yes, ma’am.” As she responded, her eyes darted back and forth between me and my mother.
I closed my eyes and touched my pocket. For some reason, the garter had become a touchstone for me, soothing in its own special way. My mother knew damn well what the camp did and didn’t have. We’d discussed ways to cut the overhead on more than one occasion. My first suggestion had been to get rid of some of these comforts, since it was a camp and not the Four Seasons.
“Are there phones at camp?” My mother eyed me while she waited for an answer from Grace.
“Of course. The kids turn in their cells upon arrival. So, we allow them time each week to call home on the camp lines.” She sat up straighter and folded her hands in her lap.
I studied her as she spoke. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was feeling guilty, as if she were betraying me.
“What about printers and a fax machine?” Mother grabbed a sip of her water.
Grace nodded. “Both. Yes, we have both.”
“Cell service?”
Another nod. “We’re fully equipped.”
Mother turned to me. “There’s no reason why you can’t go. There’s about twenty reasons why you should, starting with the most important, which boils down to…I said so.”
“Mother, that kind of talk worked when I was a kid. Now, I’m an adult. What are you going to threaten me with now? What could you possibly take away to sway me?” I sighed. “Somehow it has escaped your notice how much time and attention my position requires.” I closed the folder in front of me, hoping I’d made my point.
“Somehow it has escaped your notice that the only reason you have this position is because I gave it to you.” Her brow rose in challenge.
I swallowed hard. While there was some truth to her statement, it was equally true that I’d earned it, I deserved it, and I was damn good at it. Surely this had to hold some weight in her decision making.
“You will spend opening week at Camp Hope,” she ordered. “You will do whatever Grace requires of you, and you’ll do it without even a hint of objection. Do I make myself clear?”
“It’s impossible.” I shook my head. “I have meetings…plural…all that week.”
“Make it two weeks.” She shrugged. I had barely opened my mouth when she lifted a finger to silence me. “Say one more word. Go ahead. I’ll make it three weeks.”
Silently, I stared at the floor and sulked. Scenes from summers past played out in my mind and I rubbed my chest as if it could soothe my aching heart. From the other end of the table, I could feel Grace staring at me. I knew she wanted to make me feel better, but nothing would right now.
Finally confident she’d had a breakthrough with me, my mother continued to address the rest of the board. “I’d love it if you’d all consider donating some time to Camp Hope. The place means a lot to me.” Then she flashed a smile, the first genuine one of the meeting.
I rubbed my hands together while I thought. This couldn’t be happening. I’d rather have my kidney stolen in a cockroach infested hotel room and have the surgery performed with a rusty spoon than go to Camp Hope. I’d rather spend a night in a pit filled with fire ants than spend an hour at Camp Hope. Hell, I’d rather donate all of my trust fund and ninety-nine percent of my future earnings to the camp than an hour of my time. Was there any way this could get worse?
“I’ll volunteer!”
I slowly raised my eyes off the floor to see who’d spoken. It was Trent. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t seem smug or
scared. Instead, he seemed tense, nervous. I could practically see the vein in his forehead popping out.
“Thank you, Trent,” my mother cooed. “I’ll put you down for a day or two.”
“No.” He shook his head emphatically. “I’ll go for the first two weeks.”
My mother laughed and looked at me. “Of course. I’m sure Grace will be happy to have you.”
There it was: the nail in my coffin. The last thing I needed was to spend one more second of my life with Trent at Camp Hope.
20
The room cleared pretty quickly after Trent volunteered. There were many who muttered they’d have to check their schedules. Most couldn’t even make eye contact with me. Luckily, none of them were from Harper’s Island, even and especially Trent. A scowl had taken up residence on my face. Though only my mother remained, I lingered as I considered my options. Somehow I had to keep my mother happy or lose my position. I needed to date Grace and the camp wouldn’t exactly be conducive to this. Most of all, I needed to figure out how to handle Trent. Clearly, he now had his heart…make that his stone-cold heart…set on the woman I was falling for and expected to marry by none less than the Queen of Harper’s Island. All this while coping with a looming deadline that might as well be a ticking time bomb, since this was what had devolved into.
“Pack up.” Mother stood over me wearing a Cheshire cat grin.
“What was that?” I pretended to look bored, as if I hadn’t heard her. Then I casually leaned back in my seat.
Her brow arched. “You heard me. Go home and pack. You have a bit of a drive if you want to make it to Camp Hope tonight before the campers.”
I laughed and shrugged. “I don’t, really.”
Mother licked her lips and spoke carefully. “Well, maybe you at least want to make it there before Trent, hm?”
My eyes narrowed. “That was cold. Even for you.” I stood and grabbed the file from the table before briskly walking toward the door.
