Because he spent forty-five minutes trying to convince himself they might open things up if he waited. “I had to make a couple of calls.”
“Of course. Don’t let me keep you from the important work.” Sarcasm coated her words. “You know where everything is. Nothing’s moved in at least twenty years. I’ll be upstairs.”
“You don’t have to do this now. Take the night off. Come back when I’m not here.” So maybe he couldn’t do playful and kind. Regardless of his approach, he seemed to rub her the wrong way.
She made a noise that was half-sigh, half-growl, and planted herself in front of him, lips pursed. “Have you ever managed an estate sale?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll fill in some of the blanks for you. I have a limited number of days to go through everything in this house, cellar to roof, and figure out what can be sold—along with their opening bids—and what needs to be donated, or set aside for you to not deal with. I don’t get to take time off, because regardless of what you think, the work is going to take more than a couple of hours and makinga list of stuff.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right. I want to get this out of the way as quickly and smoothly as I’m sure you do. So, what’s your problem with me?”
She gave a bitter laugh, choked it off, and then laughed again. “Wow.Where to start? Okay. Let’s assume you want the quick and compact answer. You’re not even freaking mourning. That woman loved you more than anything. You can’t fathom how often she talked about you—how well you were doing; how proud she was of you. Then you don’t have the balls to come to her wake. You drive up two days later, as if being here is an inconvenience for you, toss me a phone number, and head back to work.”
“First of all, Iwasat her wake. I couldn’t stay. I wanted to.” He refused to stall on the words, despite the acid surging up his throat. “I was at her service, and I was at the beach when her ashes were scattered, and—God help me—I’m grateful she asked for someone else to do that.” He wouldn’t sink into the grief tightening around his heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe. At both affairs, he’d left before many people saw him. The few handshakes and obligatory condolences were enough to drill into his core.
At least his father wasn’t there. Not that Jonathan was surprised. The only time his old man had spoken to him in the last five years, was a bitter email a week ago that said,Congratulations on your inheritance.Nana left Dad out of the will. Jonathan had fought off the sadness off this long. Giving in now didn’t help anyone. “You have less than zero idea how much this hurts.”
“Is that so? You’ve got an exclusive on grief now? Is it something you picked up as part of a discount investment portfolio? She might have beenyourgrandmother, but she was here for me when no one else was.” She worked her jaw up and down, as if she wanted to say more, but then clamped her mouth shut.
Like I should have been.The unwelcome thought taunted him. What was he supposed to do for Bailey? She turned him down last time he offered his help. Made it clear that was the last thing she wanted. “Then you must have some idea how much it hurts that I didn’t get to saygoodbyeto her.”
“That was your choice. If you hadn’t cut us all out of your life—”
“What?” Something inside snapped, and he let anger replace guilt. “All the letters exchanged. Photos, post cards, email she and I sent back and forth—don’t accuse me of cutting and running because I wasn’t talking toyou. She never gave me any hint something was wrong. I couldn’t have known.”
“That’s a nice excuse. Nothing stopped you from coming back, before then.”
“Everythingstopped me from coming back.” Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that. Didn’t want her to know it took years, to get over the last fight he and Bailey had. Longer to convince himself what happened to her after wasn’t his fault. At least he never questioned that getting over her was the right decision. Leaving this place behind was one of his best calls, and as soon as this estate deal was over, he’d do it again.
*
BAILEY KNEW SHE WASbeing cruel. Sometime in the last few minutes, this argument stopped being about Nana and started being about her, and that was selfish. Red rimmed Jonathan’s eyes, and his voice cracked each time it rose to a shout. He kept in touch with Nana, and Bailey had no idea? Still, she couldn’t back off. She didn’t know where her misery ended and her spite began. “Fine. You had your reasons. Sorry for questioning you.” She couldn’t even force that to sound genuine. “I need to get back to work.”
She really needed to get to the bathroom, lock the door, and let the tears stream down her face until she was spent. Then, after she washed that away, she could return to her sorting.
“Bailey.” He grabbed her arm.
She couldn’t find the energy to wrench away. “Let go.”
He moved to stand in front of her, then dropped his grip, setting his palm on her face and forcing her gaze to his. “I’m sorry.” The anguish in his words was reflected in the brown depths of his eyes. “I’m sorry she’s gone. I’m sorry it hurts. I wish more than anything that she were still here.”
Something in his tone snapped the dam inside her, and she sobbed so hard it rocked through her frame and ached in her joints.
“Damn it,” he said, as he gathered her in his arms.
She didn’t have the will to struggle. Instead, she buried her face against his chest, and gripped his shirt as if it could keep her from shattering into a million pieces. A tiny voice in her head nagged that she needed to pull herself together. There was no way she could listen. The crying wouldn’t stop. Even when he rested his forehead against the top of her skull and muttered random things likeI get itandme too.
She cried until his shirt was wetter than her cheeks. Until the sobs became whimpers and then faded to sniffles. She must be a freaking mess right now. Did she care?
“I’m making you take the night off.” His chin moved against her head when he spoke, his words vibrating through her.
“You’re not the boss of me.” The childish retort scraped through her raw throat.
He gave a weak laugh. “Technically, I am. Executor of the estate, right? I say you’re done for today.”
“Yes, sir.” She didn’t want to pull away. The comfort was nice. Besides, she cared at least a little about how red and puffy her face was.