“Well,” he said. “I won’t know to keep an eye on the shelves for you unless I know your name. I’m Landon, by the way. Landon Collins.”
“Andi Wainwright,” I said, reaching to shake his hand.
The warm look on his face abruptly changed and he paused before taking my hand in his. “Wainright,” he said slowly. “As in the granddaughter of the man who owned this hotel?”
Owned. Past tense. As in, Grandpa Willy is dead, remember? But hey, I was an old pro when it came to the death of loved ones. At least I didn’t need to delude myself into thinking it would get better with time. No I’d learned that time just helps you find ways to avoid thinking about it for long enough periods of time to function.
“Uh,” I said, stammering a little when I realized I’d just been staring back at him like an idiot. “Yes. That’s me.”
Landon’s nostrils flared.
It was like a switch had flipped. Even though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, something in his expression had hardened, wiping away all the approachability and kindness I’d seen just a few moments ago. It was almost like learning I was Grandpa Willy’s granddaughter was some sort of problem in his mind. I couldn’t imagine why. Before he died, my grandpa had gotten along with everyone I ever saw.
He turned back to the machine and tapped the same button a few times, then grunted with irritation.
“Here,” I said, stepping forward. I kicked the leg at the front of the machine and pulled my foot back quickly. The leg slid backwards, making the machine fall slightly and jostle his candy free.
Landon gave me an unreadable look, then dug out the bag. He held it up to me and gave a little shrug. “My dad always loved the things,” he said.
“My grandpa did, too,” I said. I stuck my coins in the machine and tapped the number to get a bag for myself. “He always had them around. Practically grew up on the-” when I turned, Landon was gone, and I was talking to myself.
Instead of reading alone, I met my sisters in the lobby. Bree was working on college applications and Audria was scribbling notes by hand for her dissertation.
Bree noticed me first. She had dirty blonde hair, light brown eyes, and was pretty in a painfully sweet kind of way. She looked up, smiling but clearly scanning me for any signs of distress. Even though she was the youngest of us at eighteen, she had a habit of trying to mother us.
I smiled back, doing my best not to let any of my feelings show so she’d leave it alone. I plopped into an armchair next to Audria, who was sitting cross-legged on the carpet.
If Audria knew how to wipe the scowl from her face, she would’ve had the same kind of sweet prettiness Bree had. Instead, she wore her black hair in a tight ponytail and always seemed to be thinking about something deep and concerning.
For a few minutes, all I did was sit in the chair and stare at my Kindle. I didn’t even turn it on. I just looked down at the black screen like if I stared hard enough, I could feel Grandpa Willy in there. I let out a sigh and hugged the Kindle to my chest, closing my eyes. When my mom and dad died, I lived in the pain until it felt like I didn’t even know what was going on around me anymore.
This time, I was trying so damn hard to just keep looking forward. I still hated how I’d done exactly what my mom and dad wouldn’t have wanted. I’d let their death paralyze me and wasted years of my life feeling sorry for myself. Of course, Grandpa Willy had been the biggest part of me climbing out of that hole. He adopted us, became like family, and let us know someone still cared.
Except now he was gone, too. There wasn’t anyone left to save me, so I needed to do better this time. To be better. Even if it was going to hurt, I was going to keep pressing forward and I wasn’t going to let his death define me. I also made a silent promise to myself to really give the writing thing a shot, even if I had no idea where to start with that.
“So,” Audria said, not looking up from her notes. “I talked to Grandpa’s lawyers this morning. There’s some sort of weird stipulation in his will, and we have to have it explained to us by a third party.”
“Wait,” I said. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Audria shrugged. “Did anything Grandpa Willy did ever really make sense?”
She had a point. “When are we supposed to meet this guy?”
“Any minute,” Audria said. “His name is Landon Collins, apparently.”