Chapter 27

 

Connor

 

I was in San Francisco a grand total of twelve hours before I had to rent a car and drive home so I could be back in time for a morning meeting. I had texted Lizzy so she wouldn’t think I just up and disappeared (permanently anyway).

I’ll drive back up on Friday and bring Whitney here on the boat, weather permitting. She gave her boss plenty of notice, so she won’t move here for another month, but she’s looking at houses with me this weekend, now that I’m finally ready to find a place.

Right now I’m at Rayce’s, dropping off Lizzy’s espresso machine that I don’t want and she doesn’t need, since Mom and Dad had one too. We’re finally starting to sort out what to do with everything, which we hadn’t done yet. It’s made me realize just how much everyone’s lives were on hold while I tried to figure out what was what.

We’re sitting at the wet bar in his basement, but keeping it simple with a couple of beers. Rayce lives in a sprawling ranch house that, frankly, could really use a woman’s touch.

Speaking of women, just before he takes a swig of his beer, he says, “I ended it with Taylor.” We’ve talked more in the last few days than we have in months, but other than an acknowledgement that an affair was, in fact, happening, he’s said little about it and I haven’t pushed. I’ve thought about it though. I suspect it was his way of trying to avoid dealing with our parents’ death, a little piece of self-destructive behavior that was, at least, better than turning to alcohol or drugs.

“That’s good.”

He looks at me and hesitates. I think he’s waiting for me to chastise him about this, which I’ve yet to do. “I know it was stupid.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’d have every right to. It could affect you guys too. Everything really.”

I know what he’s talking about. Even though the relationship was consensual, she could decide to sue for sexual harassment because Rayce is her boss. Dad would’ve kicked his ass all over California if he’d been around to do it. But Rayce is kicking himself plenty over there, I can see.

“I know,” I say.

Rayce gives me a serious look. “I won’t do that again.”

I already know this, now that the old Rayce is back. But this is a serious situation, and a little extra insurance never hurts. “Is that a promise?”

He nods. “I promise.”

“All right then. No more needs to be said.”

He sighs and takes a drink. “Sometimes something will come up at work and I’ll think, ‘I should ask Dad about this.’ Then I remember I can’t.”

“I do that, too. With both of them.”

He looks at me “Really?”

I nod.

“Huh,” he says, taking another drink. “Well, it sucks.”

I nod again. “I really wish they could’ve met Whitney.”

“Yeah. They’d like her.”

“I think so too.” I tell him about Whitney’s tortured big heart and how it’s so like Mom.

“She’s the kind of person you want running a foundation or something,” Rayce says, and finishes off his beer.

Now it’s my turn to say, “Huh.” That’s not a half bad idea.

“Wanna play Super Mario Brothers?” He gestures toward his game room. He’s never entirely outgrown his love for old video games, but I don’t think he’s touched any of it since Mom and Dad died. “We could order a pizza.”

I smile. “You’d better get wings too. It’ll ease the pain of me kicking your trash all over Mushroom Kingdom.”

As we head into Rayce’s game room, I think how remarkable it is to feel so content and settled. Is this what people feel like when they grow roots? Maybe I’ve been the one missing out after all.

I recall again the conversation I had with my mom, the day I told my family I was leaving the business. She had reassured me that it was okay to pick up and go, but she also told me it would be just as okay to come home one day and drop anchor. I can hear her voice now, and smile as I remember: “If you ever grow tired of the tumbleweed thing or decide you want something more, don’t sweat it kiddo. It’s just another bend in the road.”

What a beautiful bend it’s been, too.

I can’t wait to see what’s down the rest of this road I get to travel, with Whitney by my side.