I had no memories of John Batchelor Sr., only the stories told to me by my grandmother and my father. From everything I’d heard, my grandfather valued his family above all else and he was known just as much for his kind nature as his business acumen. And since he’d passed away before there were any grandchildren, I doubted Granddad had concocted a marriage plan for us.
“Wes!”
The sound of both shouting my name grabbed my attention again. “What?”
Erica arched a questioning brow. “Do you even care?”
“I actually don’t care.” I ducked when an ink pen whizzed past my head. Chuckling, I said, “You’re a little over the top with this, sis.” I eyed my cousin. “You, too. Our grandfather has nothing to do with this. Like Hen said, it’s all Granny.”
Erica glanced at Hen, then back at me. She nibbled on her thumbnail, something she always did when she was nervous or scared or sad. “What if she’s sick?”
The thought of life without Granny was too much to consider, especially today. “She’s not,” I assured them.And myself.
“You don’t know that,” Erica argued. “Would she even tell us?”
“Probably not,” Hen muttered.
“Even healthy people die.” Erica swallowed. “You know that. Look at Dad.”
I closed my eyes. My sister had a rose-colored view of Cedric. She believed our father hung the moon and the stars. And I’d never had the heart to ruin that image for her. Because my role as big brother had always been to protect her.
“It’s already hard enough,” Erica continued, tears filling her brown eyes. “Today is—”
“I can’t do this right now,” I interrupted. “Granny is fine. Give it a few months and she’ll turn her attention to something else.”
Hen shot me a skeptical look. “You don’t even believe that. Evenyouhave to admit this is weird.”
Of course, I don’t believe that shit.Which was a problem because if I’d learned anything from my father it was the importance of believing my own lies. Especially if I wanted someone else to buy in. Shrugging, I said, “Itisweird,” I confessed. “But it doesn’t mean Granny is dying or even deathly ill.”
“She is getting older,” Hen argued. “We all know how tragedy can strike with little warning.”
It had only been three years since Hen’s sister passed away suddenly. The entire family had been devastated because Halle had been a shining star, the only cousin that got along with everyone.IncludingJohn. Her death had thrown us all for a loop.
Erica’s expression softened. “I miss her too, cuzin.”
Hen sucked in a deep breath. “I’m just sayin’. We didn’t expect my sister to die either. But she did. We don’t know what Granny is hiding.”
“True,” I agreed. “Let’s think about what wedoknow then. Granny can think all of us under the table—and outrun most of us on our best day. She hasn’t shown any indication that she’s slowing down or even thinking about retiring. She’s still kicking ass—at work and at home.”
Erica shook her head. “Wes, she basically told us we had to get married before she dies to access any of our inheritance. It feels like a dying wish.” She smacked Hen on his shoulder. “Tell him.”
Hen hunched a shoulder. “It definitely sounds like a last request.”
“Don’t y’all have work to do?” I asked, opening my laptop. I didn’t have the bandwidth to commiserate with them over the whole marriage thing. I’d already wasted too much time thinking about Albany, drowning in the memories of her.
“I can’t believe you’re not worried about this.” Erica gasped. “Oh.”
My eyes flashed to hers. “What?”
She shrugged. “Of course, you’re not worried. The woman you wanted to marry just breezed back into your life.”
“Ah.” Hen smirked. “That’s right. Albany is back in town. Coincidence?”
“And she’s meeting with Granny as we speak,” Erica chimed in. “Wonder what that’s about?”
Glaring at my sister, I grumbled, “That’s their business. It has nothing to do with me.”
“Granny saidallof us had to get married, brother.” Erica crossed her legs and leaned in. “That means you, too.”
