“But Mom and Dad are okay?” My stomach feels like I swallowed a kettlebell. If they’re okay, why aren’ttheycalling?
“Well, Dad dislocated his shoulder, and Mom has a broken wrist, and they’re both a little banged up.”
“Jesus! When did this happen?”
“Just this morning. That’s why I’m calling.” That no-nonsense edge in her voice is classic Liz. Why else would she be calling at ten-thirty on a Friday morning? “Mom’s about to go into surgery. The break wasn’t as clean as it could’ve been, and she needs pins—”
“Shhhit,”I hiss, wincing for my mom. Greta steps right into my space, her hand on her mouth, worry shaping her eyes.
“Zach, they’re gonna need help. It’s Dad’s left shoulder and Mom’s right wrist.” My dad is left-handed. Mom is right-handed.
Crap.
“I just called Kit. She and Jacob are in the middle of a pretty big custody case this week, and one of my clients has a federal hearing tomorrow morning, and I can’t—”
“I’ll go.” I say the words before really thinking it through. But when I look at Greta, she’s nodding rapidly.
Liz exhales over the phone. “Oh, thank God,” she mutters. “You can stay a week, right? Until next Saturday?”
Today’s Friday.
“Next Saturday? That’s longer than a week, Liz.”
Shetsks. “Barely.”
Eight days?
Over the next eight days, we’re booked solid for five of them. Greta and I were going to start setting the posts for the riverwalk on Monday. The weather is going to be dry enough to pour the cement. That’ll have to wait, obviously, but if I’m gone a week, Greta will have to take care of the guests, and the cabins, and the brunches and happy hours by herself. Not to mention the upkeep on the grounds and running to town for supplies.
“I can handle it,” she whispers, and it’s only then I realize I’ve been staring at her in silence, concern probably written all over my face. “I’ll be fine.”
“It’ll just be for a week,” Liz chimes in, as if being away from her office for a week would be no big deal. “I can rearrange my schedule for next week and be out there a week from tomorrow through the following Tuesday and then Kit said she could go up for a few days.”
I frown. “Wow. Y’all have really thought this through,” I say flatly, noting that while I get to stay a whole week, neither of my sisters plans that long of a visit. “Thanks for looping me in.”
Liztsks.“Don’t be like that Zach. If you were still practicing, it would be different, but—”
I scoff. “Wait. Whoa.” I choke back an insult and squeeze my eyes shut to try to remember what’s important. “I’m gonna hang up now so I can get my shit sorted, and work with my business partner so we can make sure my being gone a week doesn’t do too much damage to our construction timeline or our on-site customers’ experiences, but when I have time, Liz, we’re going to circle back to this conversation and the assumptions and misconceptions you and maybe Kit seem to be harboring about my career. Got it?”
“Zach, I—”
“I’ll update you as soon as I get to Mom and Dad, ‘kay?’ Bye, Liz.” And then I end the call.
Pissed.
Worried.
Full of dread.
And then I look back at Greta.
She’s staring at me with wide eyes, the fingertips of one hand barely touching her lips not hiding an uncertain smile.“Damn,”she drawls. “I’ve seen you pissy before, but that was like a surgical strike… Is it weird if I’m a little turned on?”
I throw my head back, laughter almost taking me out. The dread, worry, and anger stand down while I close the distance between me and the woman who taught me just how much I could love someone.
And it's so much more than I ever expected.
Greta lets me take her in my arms, but she stops me with a hand on my chest before I come in for a kiss.
