Chapter One
Jake
"Jake, what do you meanyou're in Boston?"
I’d called my right-hand man, Ben, to let him know I was out of town. He sounded stressed out, and of course I knew why.
"My grandparents wanted me to come see them.”
“But we have that pitch with Tokyo in the evening."
"I know, Ben. And I'll be back in time for that." I had a private plane that got me where I needed to be, and I’d be back in New York before that meeting.
I’d just stepped into the neighborhood florist’s shop and was heading up to the counter when the sales associate greeted me. "A bouquet of lilies, please."
"You’re buyingflowers." I could almost see the shock on Ben’s face.
"Yes. For my grandmother.” I’d never show up at Jeannie Whitley's house without flowers.
"I think I stepped into an alternate universe," Ben said. "You never make time for anything, and now you've canceled your meetings this afternoon to fly to Boston and back while also stopping to buy flowers."
"My grandparents know I’m busy. They wouldn't have asked me here if it wasn't serious." Ben was right. I never did make time for much except clients. Workouts were a necessity—a way to blow off steam. And so was dating, although that was currently on hiatus. "I always make time for my grandparents and my brothers. I'll call you later once I’m on my way back. As soon as you finish the pitch, send it to me, and I’ll review it on my way to the airport. It’ll work out. Trust me."
"Fine."
Even though this was out of character for me, I wasn’t worried in the least. I could check in on my grandparents and catch up with my brothers, then fly back to the city in time to pitch to our prospective client from Tokyo.
Once the sales associate handed me the bouquet of flowers, I got back in the car, driving to my grandparents' home in Dorchester, a quiet family neighborhood.
Being back in Boston brought me no joy. Somehow everything reminded me of my father. My life was in New York now, and I liked it that way. I parked my car—technically my brother Colton’s, as he’d it dropped off at the airport for me to use— in front of my grandparents' house, walking up to the front door with quick steps.
On second thought, this house brought back some good memories too. This place was like a time capsule. The Colonial-style house was exactly the way I remembered it from childhood—painted green, with a wraparound porch and white windowsills and railings. The tiled roof was gray. They had evergreen bushes around the edge of the property, which hid the home well from view.
I knocked on the door before ringing the bell. The door swung open a couple minutes later. My grandmother smiled from ear to ear, opening her arms wide. "Darling, you brought me flowers."
"How are you, Grandmother?" I said, kissing her cheek and handing her the bouquet.
Jeanie Whitley was eighty-nine but as fit and sharp as ever. She was thinner than I remembered, and she'd stopped coloring her hair this past year, announcing she was finally ready to own up to her age. My grandfather walked into the hallway a few seconds later.
"Good to see you, Grandson." He shook my hand, then patted me on the shoulder as I went in and gave him a warm hug. Grandfather was formal in his way, but it never stopped us from showing our affection. "We’re very grateful you could come at such short notice.”
“It sounded important.”
“Come on. Let's go to the dining room," Grandmother said, "I didn't have time to prep a feast." Usually she liked to cook my favorite foods whenever I visited.
She took out a vase from the sideboard, heading to the kitchen while Grandfather and I went to sit at the oversized dining table.
"What do you want to drink?" he asked. "Bourbon? Or is it too early in the day?"
"It's always a good time for bourbon," I said, "but I need my mind clear today." I reached for the water carafe and one of three glasses in the center of the table.
My grandmother returned, placing the vase with the flowers back on the sideboard.
The two of them exchanged a glance. My throat closed up. Something was up.
"What is it?" I asked. "Why did you ask me to come visit? Are either of you sick?"
"No, no, nothing like that." My grandmother sat down opposite me at the massive mahogany table, and my grandfather poured himself a bourbon, then joined us.