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“I’m in no position to go anywhere, Mr. Cunningham. I’m going through the biggest heartbreak of my life. I’ve been in myRedera for days.”
“Yourwhat?”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
Now I feel like I'm turning into my parents. God, I don’t know which is worse: that or the pang of anger and resentment I’m feeling at his voice, solely because it’s not the voice I wanted to hear.
“Delaney, I’m sorry I’ve been bugging you. I’ve been trying to get through to you for weeks. Your share of your Grandfather’s estate—it’s ready now. I want to discuss it with you. It’s quite a substantial amount. Far more than most of your family got.”
“I don’t care!” I raise my tone, the annoyance finally getting the best of me. “Give it to someone else. I’m sure my parents would happily volunteer as takers. Besides, I don’t even know what I’d do with that money. ”
“Delaney.” He attempts once more to calm me down, his cool tone only angering me more. “Please just listen to me.”
“No. I’m done listening,” I snap in response. “You know what? Someone needs to listen tomefor once. Do you know how upsetting it is not to have someone hear you out? Explain? Even speak? Like, do you know how rude that is?”
There’s a drawn-out silence.
“I might.”
I close my mouth, scorned by his slight dig at me. Another silence passes between us before I respond. “Touche.”
“Delaney.” He’s speaking gently now, causing me to sigh in defeat finally. “Your parents told me that they’re planning to sell Crawfield.”
I suck in a breath.
I thought that maybe, by some miracle, they would’ve changed their minds this week. But no. My parents are harder to crack than Warren was to convince to let me even start my job.
None of that matters anymore. It’s not my problem.
“I don’t work for the team anymore, Mr. Cunningham,” I try to explain. “Everything is out of my hands.”
I hear him sigh on the other line. “The silent bidding on the team is happening at five PM tonight. You know that, right?”
How could I forget?
“Yes,” I mumble, hardly audible. “I know.”
“And are you going?” he questions.
“No.”
I’ve resorted to one-syllable responses at this point. I don’t think I have the energy to do much more.
“Is that all, Mr. Cunningham?” I’m exhausted as the words escape my lips.
“Your parents have gone down to your Grandfather’s place and cleared out most of his belongings. They thought that you might want to see what was left before they donate the rest.”
Gramps’ place.
I haven’t been there in ages.
“You don’t have to say anything else. Just remember what I told you about your share, okay?” He speaks once more, that hint of urgency back in his voice—almost as if he’s trying to tell me something that I’m not catching onto yet. “5 PM, Delaney. Call me if you change your mind.”
I toyedwith the idea back and forth in my mind like a mental game of ping pong.
It didn’t matter, though, because even when my brain swayed me away, my heart still somehow guided me back to the one place I never thought I’d come back to.
Gramps’ house.
