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Five Things I Love About You

Page 11

by Sarah Ballance


  Ethan dragged a metal folding chair up to the table and sat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but some of us can only wish for the chance you have now.”

  Jesus Christ. Who invited Dr. Phil? “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Amy,” he said. His late wife. “If I had a chance to be with her again, I’d go any damn where she wanted. Siberia, the Antarctic, Easter Island. The Galapagos.”

  Crosby blew out a breath. “I get it.”

  “Even fucking California.”

  “I get it.” He kicked a chair away from the edge of the table and sat across from his brother—not because he wanted the fucking lecture, but because Ethan didn’t mention Amy. Not ever.

  Ethan shook his head. “No, you don’t. You know how I know you don’t? Because you still have your head up your ass.”

  “You really don’t understand.” But Crosby was losing some of his fight. Ethan understood more about loss than Crosby ever could, and Crosby respected that.

  “I lost my wife, and I can’t get her back. Two weeks in, you have a good thing with this woman. You’re thirty-one years old, and this is the first time that’s ever happened. Ever. You let her walk away, and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Crosby leaned back in the chair and met his brother’s eyes. It was the first time in a long time Ethan had let the pain show. Or maybe Crosby just hadn’t been paying attention. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, Ethan? I have the business. I can’t just walk out—”

  “Without you, the business has four completely competent adults to run the show. Five, if you count Sawyer.”

  “I’m the oldest son.”

  Ethan glared. “So what? The rest of us still count for something, you asshole.”

  Crosby choked on something resembling a laugh. “I’m the only one who really connects with this company. You guys will leave, but I’m the one Grandpa trusted to carry on the family legacy.”

  Ethan didn’t smile. “Did Grandpa ever tell you about his plan to see the world?”

  “No. He wanted to see the world?”

  “Yeah, it was his dream. He was even going to join the Merchant Marines so he could make a living at it.”

  How had he never known that? Probably because he and Grandpa had usually been talking shop or trading terrible puns. “So what happened? Going from seeing the world to HVAC is kind of a leap.”

  “He met Grandma. Said that was it for him, that he wasn’t going anywhere that would take him away from her. He saw an opportunity with the business and jumped in at the right time, and Fusion was born.”

  “He gave up his dream?”

  “He said he’d never imagined he could fall so hard or love one woman so much. I kind of tuned him out at that point because this hot woman he was talking about was our grandma, but I got the gist. I think he just realized what his dream really was. Maybe you need to do the same thing.”

  Crosby scrubbed a hand across his face, feeling blindsided. “Why didn’t he ever tell me this story?”

  “I know you two were close, but—” Ethan’s vision clouded over, as if he were staring at something only he could see. “I was trying to get up the nerve to propose, and I talked to him about it. So he told me about the Merchant Marines. I’m sure he would have told you the same story if he were here now. And he’d tell you to drop the family company in a hot minute for this chance.”

  Crosby frowned. “His dream may have changed, but this is still it. This is what he worked for. I can’t tell you how many hours he spent teaching me what he knows. It’s a gift. I can’t just give it up.”

  “You’re not going to forget what you learned, and nothing will ever take away the time you had together. Seriously man, this thing with Estelle, give it a shot. You say only two weeks, but you’re looking at it wrong. Two weeks was long enough for you to know you don’t want to let her go. I’m telling you now how lucky you are to have the choice. If you’ve found someone to love, chase it for all its worth. And if you don’t believe we’d all be right here for you if it doesn’t work out, then you really are an ass.”

  With that, his brother turned and headed for the exit. “We’ll cover for you this afternoon,” he called without looking back. “And we’ll cover for you after that if we need to.”

  Crosby stared at the door for a long while after it closed behind his brother. A couple of weeks was a short time to change his life. But he hadn’t needed even that long.

  It had happened in a single moment.

  He pushed back from the table and found the laptop he kept under the seat of his truck.

  It was time to change things all over again.

  …

  Estelle almost didn’t recognize Grady when he got off the plane. “Are you wearing a grandpa sweater? In July?”

  “The airplane was cold.”

  “So you beat up an old man for his sweater?”

  Grady laughed. “No, it’s my sweater.”

  “Huh. You know, your sweater doesn’t really go with your Star Wars sheets.”

  “I like my sheets, and I like my sweater.” His gray eyes narrowed, and Estelle was struck by how much he favored their father with his dark hair and unusual slate-colored irises. She, meanwhile had her mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes. Throw in the fact that Grady towered over her, height-wise, and they didn’t look like they had a single gene in common. “Do me a favor,” Grady said. “Next time my plane is late, just start drinking without me, wouldya?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m…stressed.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Over lunch,” she said as they followed the crowd to the luggage carousel. “How was the conference? Wild?”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said with practiced indifference. He’d made a cottage industry out of ignoring her every reference to his personal life. “How was the apartment?”

  “The air conditioner broke. So did the elevator. And I’m still not sure if I should be afraid of Earl.”

  Grady laughed. “Yeah, he takes some getting used to. What happened to the air conditioner this time?”

  This time? She scowled. “Something involving smoke. You really need to clean your filter more than once a millennium.”

  “You fixed it?” Grady didn’t sound convinced.

  “No, I called a repair guy. The company on the fridge.”

  “They came highly recommended, but I haven’t had time to call them. What did you think?”

  “That’s more of a story for lunch.”

  Grady’s brow hitched to the ceiling.

  “Isn’t that your bag?”

  He turned with just enough time to snatch it off the carousel. Carousel. Her heart whimpered. The press of travelers near the baggage area was suffocating, but when she thought about making an escape, the first thing she thought of wasn’t home. It was Crosby.

  Wrong way, dummy.

  She followed a half step behind Grady, allowing him to forge a path through the crowd. By the time they took seats at one of the airport bars, she was exhausted. And thirsty. She ordered a glass of wine.

  He asked for a beer, barely looking away from her to do it. Concern etched his face. “So what happened?”

  “Are you happy here?” she blurted.

  He glanced pointedly at their surroundings. “At the airport?”

  “No, genius. In the city.” She smiled her thanks as her wine arrived, then downed half the contents of the glass in one swallow.

  Grady’s eyebrows arched. He watched her, not touching the drink that was set in front of him. “Happier when my apartment hasn’t been on fire, but yes, I am.”

  “Why, though? Why so far from mom and dad?”

  He took a long drink before replying. “Is this a trick question?”

  “No. It’s just…they’re not here.” She gestured with her arms, nearly hitting a now glaring man who occupied the next stool.

  Grady shook his head. “Do you only think of them while you’re standing in the cemeter
y? Or in mom’s garden?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then who says they’re not here? What’s going on, Estelle?”

  She blinked back the heat of tears, though she wasn’t sure for whom. She hadn’t cried over her parents in a long time, and Crosby…she just couldn’t. Everything had become such a muddled mess. “I met a guy in the grocery store. He turned out to be the HVAC guy, and he’s the reason you currently have an air conditioner. They have your old one, by the way, if you want it back. Otherwise you can make monthly payments on a new one.”

  “Fair enough. Thanks for taking care of that.”

  “Also, they want to hire you for translating their manuals into English.”

  “From what language?”

  Estelle picked up her wine and took another long swallow. “No, they’re in English. Just not plain English. I’m sure when you call, they’ll explain better than I ever could.”

  “And how might I introduce myself? Brother of the girl who met the guy?”

  Estelle shifted on the stool “His name is Crosby. I’ll spare you the details.”

  “Don’t spare them all. Something must be wrong. You’ve only taken one dig at my old-man sweater, which, by the way, actually belonged to Dad. That last Christmas before he died, he took me to the airport to catch my flight back to college and gave me this sweater off his back. Told me those tin cans got cold up there so high and to take it to stay warm. I’ve worn it every flight since.”

  She blinked back a fresh threat of tears. God, she was an emotional wreck. “I don’t remember that sweater on him.”

  “That’s because Mom had just given it to him for Christmas. He wore it out of the house to make her happy, then he sent it a few hundred miles away. He told me he was too young for an old-man sweater. Apparently I wasn’t.”

  Estelle laughed and wiped the unshed moisture from her eyes. “That sounds just like him. And now I feel like a jerk.”

  Grady waved his hand. “Forget it. What happened with this Crosby? Do I need to go beat him up for you?”

  An unladylike snort escaped. “No, but you do need to water a maple tree. It’s in your apartment.”

  Grady looked up from his perusal of the limited menu. “There’s a tree in my apartment?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he screw up that badly?”

  “No, he didn’t screw up at all. Everything was fantastic. It doesn’t feel like two weeks with him, Grady. It feels like forever, in the good way. But we live on opposite coasts. He can’t leave the city, and I didn’t just earn my master’s degree to live in a world dipped in concrete. I can’t leave…them.”

  “Why not?”

  “What do you mean, why not? What the hell would I do in the city?” Even as she asked, she thought of Crosby’s mom and her neighborhood outreach. But she couldn’t take money from people who struggled to make ends meet, nor could she earn a living off six linear feet of flower bed at a time. But she could come up with something. She had a ton of equity in her house—more than enough to start over somewhere else. And not just anywhere, but a place where people were moved to tears when they saw their new landscaping. A place that, over the course of two weeks, had actually begun to feel like home. A place with a maple tree that would inevitably meet its demise under the care of her brother.

  “I can see the wheels turning, Estelle. Hang out at my place a few more days. Sort it out. I don’t think major decisions are supposed to be made in airports.”

  “Clearly you haven’t seen your share of chick flicks. Also, awkward sleeping arrangements at your place.”

  “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  She thought of the moment Crosby tried to stretch out on top of her and flipped the coffee table and its contents. And almost smiled. “Sofa isn’t big enough.”

  Grady closed his eyes for a long moment and shook his head. “First of all, I don’t really want to know how or why you came to that conclusion. Secondly, the sofa is a sofa bed.”

  “Oh.” She bit back a smile. “But those things aren’t comfortable.”

  “Which is why I said I’d take it. I’ve got to say, Estelle, you look about as miserable leaving as you did coming. I got it then, and I deeply appreciate your sacrifice on my behalf. But I don’t get it now. You should be twerking your way through the airport, and instead you’re moping over a half-full glass of wine.”

  She glanced quickly to either side, praying no one heard him. Satisfied she would keep her mortification to herself, she turned to him with a lowered voice. “I absolutely do not twerk for any reason. I don’t even know why you know that word, but that aside, this is an awkward conversation to have with your brother.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have a brother, so spill.”

  She buried her face in her hands and wiped her eyes. “I cannot begin to explain this without sounding like a stupid thirteen-year-old girl drawing hearts in my notebook. Crosby and I just connected in a way I’ve never connected with anyone before. Three months into any other relationship, if I felt like this I’d start whispering he’s the one to my girlfriends over empty wine bottles.”

  “But?”

  She shrugged. “But it hasn’t been three months. I’ve known him thirteen days.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You do realize thirteen days won’t lead to three months if you leave.”

  “What about mom?” Emotion welled in her throat, threatening the last shreds of her composure. If Grady told her their mother didn’t matter, he’d find himself wearing what was left of her wine.

  He tugged at the neck of his old man sweater, leaving her to wonder if the loss still choked him as it did her. “She created that garden for everyone to enjoy,” he said. “It was never intended to chain you down. She wants you to be happy. She’d probably really love it if you were here making me miserable.”

  “That’s an excellent point.” And one with which she couldn’t argue.

  “And doesn’t that garden have about a thousand volunteers?”

  “Maybe a hundred,” she admitted.

  “I know the garden is important to you, but don’t sacrifice people for things. You and mom and dad have made a difference there. Maybe it’s time to move on. Spread the joy a little.”

  Estelle hiked her bag onto her shoulder and jumped down from her stool. “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Yep.” She threw a twenty on the bar, abandoning the remains of her wine, and headed back in the direction of the taxi stand, her brother scrambling to follow.

  “Should I be worried?” he asked as he maneuvered after her. Her legs were no match for his long strides, and he closed the distance easily.

  She was about to answer when she ran head-first into a man. One she’d know anywhere. She took a step back as his bright green eyes settled over her, then her focus shifted to the paper he held in his hand.

  It was a boarding pass.

  Flight 185.

  Hers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Estelle’s stunned blue eyes were brighter than ever. “What are you doing here?”

  He couldn’t get a read on her, dammit. That, and she was with a tall, vaguely familiar guy who might be her brother but looked nothing like her.

  Her gaze tracked back and forth between the men. “Crosby, this is my brother Grady.”

  Grady’s brow lifted just enough to suggest he’d heard the story. Crosby just wished he knew which version. “Nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

  “Likewise. And I’m sure I’ll see you again, so let me slink off and leave you to this moment, whatever it is.”

  Estelle elbowed her brother in the stomach.

  Grady rolled his eyes. “I won’t wait up.”

  “He’s going to kill my tree, you know. Maybe you should reclaim it for your mother’s yard.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” he muttered, still a little unsure what was going on. Estelle was headed away from her plane, not to it. Although it was ear
ly enough. Maybe she was just walking her brother out, only it was more like she charged full steam ahead while Grady trailed after her, his face a mask of concern and bewilderment.

  Estelle’s blue eyes narrowed. “After you fly to California?”

  He looked at the boarding pass he’d forgotten he held. So much for the surprise, although he wasn’t sure it would be a good one.

  “I have a plan,” he said.

  “Does your plan involve a fire escape?” she asked.

  Relief flooded him. Any mention of the fire escape had to be good. “See? There are definite perks to the city.”

  “Then why are you leaving it?”

  “Ah, that. I’ve done a little research. Turns out we’ve tapped our market here, so I’m heading up a move to the suburbs.”

  Her brow raised. “You’re moving Fusion to the suburbs?”

  “Not moving—we’ll keep the business here as well—but expanding. And not the suburbs, but yours. Or, rather, your town.

  Estelle stared. “No.”

  “No?” He blinked, a bit taken aback. He’d half expected she really might be done with him, but standing there like an island in the flood of people brushing past had given him hope.

  “Expanding to the suburbs might be a great idea,” she said, “but expand to your own. Stay near the core of your business.”

  Dammit. His father had said the same thing before reluctantly agreeing. But once he’d done so, he’d thrown his full support behind the plan, or at least a more thorough exploration thereof.

  “No yourself,” he said. “The chance to get to know you better is worth the risk. Unless you don’t want that chance.”

  “I do,” she said. “That’s why I’m staying.”

  He blinked, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “You’re staying?”

  “I’m staying. Turns out there’s a fifth thing I love about the city,” she said. “You.”

  His heart hammered. The words refused to sink in. “You…me?”

  Estelle laughed, albeit weakly. “That must be your inner cave man speaking,” she said. “My best friend is here and my brother and…those are just excuses to be with you. My brother said I could stay with him. He offered to take the sofa.” His face must have twisted because she laughed. “It’s a fold out.”

 

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