Shane laughed.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Milo said. “I love that girl. She’s the best. But I don’t do well when girls cry. I always say the wrong thing then they hate me.”
From what Shane could tell, Milo seemed like a pretty nice guy. Friendly, charismatic… all the qualities that made up a good person. He couldn’t imagine anyone hating the guy.
“Thanks for giving me a lift. I know I wasn’t originally on your ticket.”
“I was just busting on Liv. It was no problem.”
Milo was the type of guy Shane could be friends with, but he didn’t know how long he was staying, and friendship was the exact type of entanglement he avoided. Shane had had plenty of friends; unfortunately spending the majority of his youth in and out of children’s hospital, many of his friends had succumbed to their illness.
He always assumed he’d be next, especially after the phone would ring, and Mom would console the grieving parent on the other end. But for whatever reason, he’d survived. Life was fragile, though, and he knew at any minute the cancer that had lived inside of him could rear its ugly head and finally take him out. The doctors had said he beat it. It’d been more than five years, but he could never let go of what a doctor had said to Mom when she had been hopeful.
You’re never fully cancer free. It was bullshit. Shane had met plenty of people who went into remission and had yet to have another bout, but those words still haunted him.
He tried not to think about it. Making friends, attachments put the thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Which was why he avoided making friends in the first place. No friends meant neither side had to deal with the emotional pitfalls of loss.
“Thanks again,” Shane said. He got out of the car and went to the trunk to grab his bag. He hiked it on his shoulder, shut the trunk, and gave the car a good tap.
Milo pulled away with a wave, and Shane stood at the wrought iron gate in front of him. When he had told the woman that was his grandmother—still a hard concept for him to grasp—that he’d be late, she’d given him the gate code. He punched that into the keypad, and the large gate opened.
He made his way up the driveway. It was dark, and he couldn’t see the property around him, but he could smell the salt in the air, hear the water in the distance, and sense that the land around him was massive.
To think all the times Mom had struggled to pay the bills, yet he had family who lived in a place like this. The thing Shane couldn’t figure out was that Mom knew they existed, so why didn’t she ask them for help?
He knew the answer before he even finished the thought. Mom had been a proud person, asking for money from anyone made her feel inferior. She didn’t see it as someone helping her out; she saw it as her own inadequacy. She’d been stubborn that way. As a child Shane didn’t understand it, but as an adult, he respected it.
Shane continued up the driveway, moving past the trees that blocked the estate. Bayview Estate wasn’t as opulent as he expected. It was large, yet cozy. Weathered brown shingles, similar to those on Olivia’s house, covered the house, but instead of the rustic look of Olivia’s house, these shingles made the estate look like old money. White trim accented the windows on the house and the large turret that sat in the middle of the structure.
The fact that he wasn’t met with an excessive display of wealth was a bit of a relief. In his head, he was starting to believe his family were a bunch of rich assholes, which would explain why his dad had taken off all those years ago, but now he hoped that they were just everyday people who happened to have a ton of money.
He confidently approached the front door, and before he could chicken out, he knocked. He only waited a moment before the door flung open.
A woman who looked like Goldie Hawn, both in face and stature, stood in the doorway. Her mouth dropped into an O, and she gasped.
He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as she continued to stare. “Hi, I’m Shane.”
Tears filled her blue eyes, and her hands landed on her tightly pulled skin. “Look at you. Just like your father. My baby boy.” Her overly plump lip quivered, and she pulled him into an embrace. He didn’t resist, finding her hold rather comforting.
Her scent was strong but pleasant—definitely expensive. She cried against his shoulder, and he patted her back. “It’s okay, Grandma. No need to cry.”
She sniffled and pulled back; the tears halted in her eyes. “I am nobody’s grandma.”
“I…” Shane stuttered.
“Call me Mimi.”
“Six grandkids, and she still can’t accept that she’s old.” A middle-aged man walked into the room; his light brown hair streaked with gray was brushed to the side and off his face. Shane imagined his own eyes would look like this man’s if they had been all green and not a mix of green and brown.
“Do I look like a grandmother?” She planted her hand on her popped hip and tilted her head.
“Not any I’ve met,” Shane said.
Mimi let out a loud laugh. “A charmer, just like your father.” Shane hadn’t been trying to charm her; he was just being honest.
The man walked into the room and draped his arm over Mimi’s shoulders, kissing her cheek. Mimi smiled. “This is your world, and you’re nice enough to let us live in it.” The man’s arms dropped from Mimi, and he held a hand to Shane. “I’m your Uncle Grady.”
Uncle Grady had a strong grip, which told Shane a lot about his character. He was a professional, obviously. He was the town mayor. Shane recognized him from a picture he found on a Google search.
“How are you feeling? You look good. Strong, healthy.”
“I’m feeling great,” Shane said. They were odd first words for an uncle meeting his nephew. Then again, Shane didn’t know much about this family.
Uncle Grady patted his shoulder. “That’s good. That’s really good. Come on, I’ll give you a ride over to the house, and you can get settled. We can get to know each other a little better after you get some rest.”
“What house?” Shane asked.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable in your own space,” Mimi said. “We have a ton of rentals around town, and one is currently empty, so we thought you could stay there.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
Mimi cut him off with a wave. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“That’s very generous.”
“You’re family. My grandson.” Mimi cupped his cheek, her hand the only thing giving away her true age.
Shane appreciated the gesture, but he didn’t come here to live off his rich family. His pride wouldn’t let him. “I’d like to at least try and get a job while I’m in town.”
Mimi patted his cheek. Her look of admiration made him uneasy, like he was some gift from God. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but there wasn’t anything special about him. He was an average guy who was a little more damaged than most.
“I think we can help him with that, don’t you?” Mimi said to Uncle Grady.
“Definitely. You don’t want to work with me at Town Hall, but I’ll tell you what. Your cousin, Connor would love to meet you, and he happens to be short a bartender right now. Last guy up and left to follow a girl across the country.”
“That would be awesome. Thanks.” Shane knew nothing about his cousin, but from what Milo had said, Connor seemed like a good guy. Not that he knew Milo from a hole in the wall, but the guy had no reason to lie.
“Stop at McConnell’s Pub tomorrow around noon, and I’ll tell him you’re coming.”
Mimi clapped. “Now that’s arranged, go get settled, and we’ll meet tomorrow first thing for coffee and breakfast before you head over to the pub. Then you can tell me about the last twenty-five years.”
“Not much to tell, but I’d love to talk about my dad. Know what he was like, why he left.”
She hugged him and pulled back, taking his face in her hands again. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Me too, but—” He stopped himself. He
had a million questions about his dad and this new family, but it had been a long day of travel and it was late. The answers weren’t going anywhere. He would get some sleep, and come back tomorrow, awake and prepared to find out about the father who died before he was born.
Chapter 4
Olivia finished putting her makeup on, trying to hide the puffiness from a night and early morning of crying. It didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing. Mom would know she’d been crying the moment Olivia left her room, and no amount of makeup in the world could change that.
Her phone rang, and she glanced down to see her sister’s name flash on the screen. She hadn’t been ready to talk, but she also couldn’t avoid Cindy forever. She accepted the call and put the phone to her ear.
“Hey, Cind.”
“Hey. How are you holding up?”
Olivia paused. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell her sister about what had happened. She’d been avoiding it like a bad habit. “You talked to Mom, didn’t you?”
“I called her this morning, and she might have mentioned something.”
“Is anything sacred in this family?” God forbid Mom held onto a bit of information for longer than twenty-four hours. Olivia should have known she might have combusted if she tried.
“Twenty-five years old and you still question this?”
“It still amazes me that Mom can spread gossip so quickly.”
“As Mom says, words between family isn’t gossip, just the transferring of information.”
“We both know that’s her way to justify her inability to keep a secret.”
“How are you settling in?” Cindy asked, moving right to the next subject at hand. Cindy was a to-the-point type of person.
“It’s like a time warp. Everything is exactly how I left it, and I feel sixteen again.” Olivia had been back a million times over the years, but now that she was here to stay, the blast from the past was unsettling. Especially the dream board that held magazine clippings glued to it of Madison Ave, New York City penthouse apartments, designer bags, and Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl—Olivia’s favorite television show in high school.
Her entire life was focused on moving forward, reaching for the top, and now she was back at the bottom. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
“At least they didn’t turn your room into the dog’s room,” Cindy spat.
Shortly after Cindy moved out to live with her fiancé, now husband, Mom and Dad moved John Andre into her room. Now the room was filled with a toybox full of dog toys, two beds, and a painting of John Andre hung on the far wall.
“Still not over that, huh?”
“Do you know Mom made him filet mignon for dinner the other night. Filet mignon! We used to get tossed ten bucks and told to call for pizza.”
“We weren’t fluffy and adorable.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was adorable and still am.” And she had over a million followers who agreed, but Olivia was her sister, and it was her job to knock her down a few notches every chance she got.
“You’re all right.”
“Gee thanks.”
“Anytime. Besides, it’s not about you right now. Your life is perfect. Can we focus on the disaster that is my life?”
Olivia swore eye rolls made noise, and Cindy just made a very dramatic roll. “If we must.”
“Why do I like you again?” Olivia asked.
“Because you’re my sister, and you have no choice.”
“Good point.”
“But seriously… How are you holding up?”
“I cried for twenty minutes in the shower this morning before Dad knocked on the door to remind me I was using all the hot water.”
“Oil’s expensive,” Cindy snapped.
Olivia’s brow furrowed at the hostility in Cindy’s tone. She expected her sister to laugh with her or at least commiserate with her over the intrusion. “Geez, didn’t know you were paying their oil bill.”
“I’m just saying, as a homeowner, I get it.”
“And because I don’t own a home, I don’t?” This was exactly why Olivia came home instead of crashing at Cindy’s. Cindy, while always there for her, had a way of making Olivia feel as if she was too immature in life to understand responsibilities, all because she wasn’t married with a house and kid. “Besides they don’t have oil burners in skyrises.”
Cindy sighed into the phone. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Olivia inhaled slowly. She was projecting. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“You just went through a breakup. Give yourself a little time.”
“It’s not just that, Cin. I’m twenty-five, no career, no place of my own, no savings. I have nothing, and I have no idea how I let myself get here.”
“It’s part of life. Not everything can be up. Sometimes we have to be dropped down a few pegs to realize what we have. Harsh lessons are the best ones. At least you’re twenty-five and single. You only have to worry about you right now. And don’t take that as an insult, because it’s not. Take a few weeks, a month, the entire summer if you have to. There’s no rush. You’ll figure it out when the time is right.”
“I don’t know if I’ll last the entire summer with Mom and Dad.”
“Look at it as a test of your endurance.” Cindy laughed. At least she could find the humor in her parental hell; Olivia didn’t share her sentiment.
“I’m glad you can laugh about this.”
“You will. In due time. I’ll be out that way on Wednesday. We can grab coffee, talk.”
“I’d like that.”
“See you then.”
“Kiss my niece for me.”
“I will.” Olivia hung up and took a moment before heading downstairs and facing her parents.
John Andre met her at the stairs, butt wiggling back and forth, nose sniffing her feet before he flopped on his back, legs up in prime petting position.
“Hey, good boy!” Olivia said, giving John Andre exactly what he wanted. She rubbed his belly and scratched behind his ears, and when she straightened to continue, he quickly stood and dropped down on her feet. She grabbed the wall before she would be forced to join him on the floor. “I’m sorry. Were we not done here?” Olivia gave him a few more rubs and scratches and finally an acceptable amount of attention for the spoiled Yorkie. He rolled over and waited for Olivia to lead.
With a laugh she made her way into the kitchen.
Dad was at the table, newspaper in hand. Olivia had been trying to get him to go digital forever, but he refused to give up the feel of paper in his hands in the morning. His green monster slippers poked out from beneath the table, and Olivia shook her head at the monstrosities.
“Morning,” Olivia said as she followed the scent of coffee to the pot. John Andre was on her heels, so she grabbed the two bags of treats and placed them on the floor. “Which one do you want?” John Andre sniffed both bags then pawed the bag with the peanut butter bones. “Good choice.” Olivia fished out a bone and tossed it into the living room. John Andre took off, grabbed the bone, and instantly went to find a place to hide it.
“Coffee is brewing, and your mother went to get bagels,” Dad said, from behind the paper.
Olivia poured herself a cup and went to grab the almond milk out of the fridge, only to remember her parents only drank whole milk. She snatched the gallon container. She still had a little money in her checking account and could afford a run to McConnell’s Market to stock up on the necessities.
She dropped a scoop of sugar into her mug, making a mental note to pick up a bag of raw sugar, then leaned against the counter. The first sip was like heaven, and she took a moment to savor it before nodding to Dad’s feet.
“I bought you shearling lined, suede slippers last year, and you refuse to wear them.”
“For all the money you spent on those things, they weren’t comfortable. You could have put that money into savings, and you might not be in thi
s predicament.”
Annoyance flared beneath the surface, and Olivia took a deep breath. “Two hundred dollars wouldn’t have made a difference.”
He folded the paper and placed it down on the table. “Maybe not. But think of all the other unnecessary purchases you’ve made over the years. They add up. What about your purse? Your sister told me it’s a few thousand dollars.” His eyes widened, and he laughed. “A few thousand dollars,” his words came out in a high-pitched squeak. “For a bag!”
That bag was her most prized possession. Daniel’s money didn’t buy it. It was the first big purchase she’d ever made, and she’d been so proud when she was able to go up to the register and hand over her debit card. So what if it left her with only a hundred bucks in her checking account? She finally got to be one of the women walking down Fifth Avenue who stopped in the Louis Vuitton store and made a purchase on a random Wednesday because she could. With the last hundred bucks, she took herself and the bag out for champagne rose macaroons and a latte.
Maybe Dad had a point. That money would have really helped her out, but she wouldn’t regret that purchase or the macaroons after. That day was empowering, and it gave her a little extra bounce in her step. The experience, the feeling made it worth the money, despite the uncertainty she faced now.
“Can we not talk about this right now? My life is in shambles, and I don’t need to be reminded about all the things I’ve done to get me here.”
Dad ran a hand over his thick mustache that he’d been sporting all of Olivia’s life. “Then let’s talk about what you’re going to do to get you back on track.”
Olivia sighed. She loved her father, but he didn’t understand the need to take a moment. When something didn’t work out, he was quick to come up with a new plan. Olivia didn’t have a plan yet, and the last thing she wanted was to discuss it. She needed to figure out her next steps on her own and in her own time. “Can’t I have a day to not think?”
Dad reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I worry about you.”
“I know,” Olivia said.
Concern pinched his brow, and his gaze dropped to their hands. “Should I kill him?” he asked, the offer putting the first genuine smile on Olivia’s face since she’d woken up.
All Because of You (Morgan's Bay Book 1) Page 4
