Chapter 32
Grant
Kate did not look happy when the Fitzhughs suggested that Brandy become an assistant. Grant hoped she was jealous. He wanted her to want him. He didn’t understand why she was fighting it. His mother’s lackey, Luigi, had said his father was a bully. He hoped it wasn’t true. If it was, he needed to be as valuable at the company as his father was. Then he couldn’t push him out.
I’m going to own this town, he thought, and win Kate.
He sipped his pre-dinner drink, and Margaret wrapped an arm around Grant and led him over to be introduced to the couple that he didn’t know. Grant stiffened and resisted.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Margaret said. “I’ve accepted that you will be in my life for the foreseeable future. I’m too old to hold grudges. Not that you aren’t still under probation with me. If you end up marrying my granddaughter, then you need to be respectable.”
Grant smiled. He had one person in his corner. Sort of.
“Don’t act so smug,” Margaret said, hitting him lightly. “Ow! I just about broke my wrist!”
The elderly couple looked up at them.
“These are the Burbanks,” Margaret told Grant.
He shook their hands.
“The military, eh?” said one man. “I wish my son had chosen to do something useful with his life.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Grant said.
“How is your son?” Margaret asked. “I remember when he and his sisters were little children!”
“We’re having him enlist in the Marine Corps, but he doesn’t start for a few months. I told him we would cut him off if he didn’t. He just couldn’t settle down and do something, anything. He would rather just flit around. He’s a bit younger than you, Grant. He’s never seemed to fit in. We adopted him, you see.”
“That can be difficult for a person,” Grant said, thinking of his own experience.
“I don’t see how. We did everything for him. He should be grateful!” Mrs. Burbank said loudly.
Grant was starting to become annoyed with the couple. It was giving him flashbacks of dealing with his own adoptive parents. He knocked back his drink and tried to resist the urge to throw the glass at the woman’s head.
“When he comes back into town, maybe I can convince you to set him straight,” Mr. Burbank continued.
“I was only an enlisted marine,” Grant said.
“That’s better than nothing. At least you were making a contribution to society.”
“Your son and Grant’s cousin Carter were two peas in a pod. Always in trouble,” Margaret said, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. Grant wondered if it was that obvious he was angry.
“All our kids are friends,” Nancy said, coming up with a plate of snacks in her hand. She was wearing a breezy top and loose-fitting silk pants. She seemed like the type of mom you would want if you were adopted, Grant thought.
“Whenever my sons return, we need to have a proper get-together with people your own age,” she said, wrapping an arm around Grant. “Maybe if Jack and the boys go hunting, you can go along too. Jack’s a pretty good shot. They usually spend a few weeks with all of us on Martha’s Vineyard. Your father used to bring the kids.” She looked sad for a moment then brightened. “He can bring you now.”
Dinner was individual lobster potpies with endive salad.
“You made this?” Grant asked Nancy, impressed. “It’s delicious.” His adoptive mother never cooked. A good dinner in his childhood was something out of a box.
“I told you she was a great chef,” Kate said, digging into her potpie.
“Oh, it’s nothing!” Nancy replied, pouring wine for the Burbanks.
After dinner, they retired to the parlor. Nancy had a fire going. Against one wall, there was a table with cheese, fruit, and various wines.
“Everyone help yourselves,” she announced.
Grant wandered over to the table. It was an impressive cheeseboard.
“You should show him the garden, Kate. I brought back some new sculptures from Italy. I bet he hasn’t seen anything like it,” Nancy said.
“I’d love to see it,” Grant said. “I’m sure Kate can give me the whole tour.”
“Of course she can!” Nancy exclaimed. “She’s spent hours listening to me prattle on about it. She helped me plan for it. She’s the daughter I always wanted. My boys are great, but you need a girl to cook with and decorate and throw parties.”
Grant winced. He felt bad for Carter, if this was what he had to deal with for years.
“Go on! This is why one puts so much work into a garden, to let other people enjoy it!” Nancy said and shooed them out through the French doors leading to the sumptuous landscape.
As they walked through the garden, Kate pointed out the various plants and how the garden had been designed in a formal Baroque style.
She led him down one narrow path, stating, “Nancy had been looking for the perfect statue to go in front of this fountain. It looks like she found it.” The statue was of a young woman, the marble expertly carved to make it look as if she was covered in a veil. The figure reached up, the marble hand almost touching the tree branch that had started to bud.
“It’s beautiful,” Grant said, his hands clasped behind his back. They contemplated the statue. Kate had her arms wrapped around herself, and Grant took off his jacket and put it around her.
“I’m fine, really,” she said.
“You look cold.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
He rotated her toward him and held her lightly in in his arms.
“Don’t,” she said to him.
He ignored her and leaned down and kissed her softly.
“I’m not doing this anymore,” she whispered against his mouth.
But she leaned into him, and he bent down to kiss her once more and ran his hands up and down her back, his tongue tracing her sweet mouth.
“I just want to be with you,” he whispered. “Don’t you want this?”
“No,” she said. Grant knew she was lying, but he didn’t know why. Maybe he was moving too fast.
Stepping back, he asked, “Ready to go inside?”
She nodded.
When they walked into the parlor, the Burbanks and Fitzhughs had left. Nancy and Jack sat on the couch with Walter, Kate’s grandmother hovering over him. His father was slumped over, his head in his hands.
“I can’t believe they’re gone. It still hurts. I’ll never be able to get over it.”
“I’m sure Grant can help with that,” Nancy said, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “We are all still heartbroken. Carter is still so broken up about it. I’m worried about him, really.”
Jack grunted. “He needs to get over it. He’s only using it as an excuse to screw up.”
“Death is hard for people,” Grant told him seriously. “It’s not something you just get over.”
Jack looked as if he was about to say something but then thought better of it.
Grant knelt down in front of his father. “It’s hard to lose someone you care about,” he said. “I know.”
Walter looked at him sadly. “Yes, I suppose you do.” He squeezed Grant’s shoulder then got up. “I think we’ve exhausted your hospitality, Nancy and Jack.”
“We’re family! There’s nothing to exhaust,” Nancy told him.
“Thank you for having us. It’s… it’s been good to reconnect with people.”
“Always a pleasure to see you all. Remember, I have a few weeks planned in the summer on Martha’s Vineyard. I expect you all to be there,” she told them as she walked them to the door.
“Of course,” Walter replied. His father seemed tired and ancient as Grant steered him to the waiting car.
Once they were back at the estate, Stefan helped Grant put him to bed.
“I think he drank too much,” he told the butler. Grant felt good about where his relationship with his father was heading. Too bad the one he had with Kate seemed to have taken a nosedive.