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“Hey, brat. Where’s Grandma Dee?”
Hazel looked up from her book, pushing up her glasses to focus on the other side of the room. Since Hazel had learned to read, she always had one book or another in her hands. If she wasn’t in Grandma Dee’s library, she was at the Rosewood library on the square. He’d bought her a Kindle for Christmas the year before, but every time he turned around, she had a real paper book in her hands again. She was a purist.
“I don’t know,” she said with an irritated frown. “Cookie was making a fuss in the kitchen not too long ago, so it might be teatime. Check the backyard.”
“Thanks.”
Hazel shrugged and turned back to her book. Turning out of the doorway, Blake cut through the kitchen to look out at the backyard. His grandmother thoroughly enjoyed her gardens, and it was there he spotted her white head sitting at the table beneath the gazebo. The tiny table had a vase of fresh flowers and a tiered platter set up. Yep, it was time for tea.
Fortunately her guest had not yet arrived. He needed to have a chat with his grandmother about her
. . . withholding . . . of information about Ivy and the fund-raiser.
He opened the door and stepped out onto the wooden deck. Following it around the house, Blake cut through the lawn to the large white gazebo.
His grandmother had her back to him, but she did not look at all surprised to see him round the table and flop down into her guest chair. “Grandma Dee,” he said, his tone pointed. Without elaborating, he eyeballed the tiered display of teatime treats on his grandmother’s Raynaud Duchesse china. There was an array of sandwiches and sweets, puff pastries filled with Lord knows what, and a few promising-looking fruit tarts. He plucked a cucumber sandwich from the platter and popped it unceremoniously into his mouth.
As usual, his grandmother was not at all fazed by his rude display. Adelia Chamberlain was damn near unflappable. She gazed at him down the line of her nose, sizing him up through her fashionably square glasses. Her white hair was always perfectly coiffed in large curls that were pulled back and fell to her shoulders. She had never had the tight perm of the usual grandma set. She also didn’t dress like most grandmothers. Today she had on a houndstooth pantsuit with a burgundy blouse beneath the jacket.
As a former Auburn player, he’d have to mention to her that this suit needed to be burned. But first things first.
“Blake Chamberlain, you are damn lucky my guest hasn’t arrived yet. I’d hate to have to whip you in front of her.” Her mouth flattened into tightly drawn disapproval.
Blake smiled. His grandmother hadn’t whipped him once in his whole life. Of course, he’d been deathly afraid of her until he was twenty-three. “That’s fine. I’ve already had a public whipping this morning. I’ve had my fill for today.”
Adelia arched a curious eyebrow at him. “I’m quite certain you deserved it.”
“You would be, since you caused it. I went to the first meeting about the fund-raiser today. Turns out there’s quite a bit to the plans I hadn’t heard about yet. Gloria was extremely concerned.”
His grandmother sniffed delicately and straightened the flawless linen tablecloth to avoid his gaze. “Gloria is very often concerned,” she said in a noncommittal tone.
“Turns out that you,” he said pointedly, “were supposed to fill me in on the details. Like how I’m supposed to spend nearly every moment of the next couple of weeks with Ivy Hudson. Ivy Hudson! How could you not tell me this?”
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Adelia snapped and met his gaze. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t feel it was necessary.”
She immediately held up a hand to quiet his protest. “Sometimes being a Chamberlain means doing what’s best for the town. Putting Rosewood’s needs above your own. It’s not always the easiest thing to do. I knew it would be difficult for you. So, yes, I left out the offensive details.”
Blake’s hands tightened to fists in his lap. “So you admit you knew it would be hard for me and yet you set me up anyway?”
“I did not ‘set you up.’ I said it would be difficult for you to put the town’s needs over your own. I withheld the parts that would keep you from doing what needed to be done. If you knew everything you know now, would you still have agreed to participate?”
He opened his mouth to say “Yes, of course I would,” but he couldn’t lie to his grandmother. Blake would not have agreed to this. He would’ve felt bad, but he would’ve requested some changes. At least then it would’ve been early enough in the planning stages that the changes wouldn’t wreck the whole plan. He would still have helped Rosewood rebuild. He just wouldn’t have had to bleed for it.
“You’ve proved my point with your silence, Blake. Rosewood is not just a town. It’s our family legacy. It’s the Chamberlains’ duty to watch over the land and the people that call it home.”
Blake crossed his arms over his chest. “If it’s all so important and our family has a responsibility to the town, why not just write a check for the gym and spare me the public humiliation? You and I both know you can afford it.”
Adelia watched him for a moment before delicately taking a sip of her tea. “And what good would that do? While I will be contributing to the cause, writing a check for the whole thing does nothing but rebuild the gym itself.”
Blake frowned at his grandmother. “Isn’t that the point?”
“No. This is about more than just a gymnasium. It’s better for the town to work together to rebuild. It generates a sense of pride and community. While Rosewood is still a small town, it grows a little larger every year. The sense of intimacy is being lost. People aren’t shopping downtown; they’re shopping online or driving to Birmingham. They’re getting burgers at the drive-in place on the highway instead of eating at Ellen’s or Pizza Palace. The attendance at the Fourth of July picnic was lower than ever this year.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes I go into town and I don’t even recognize people anymore. There was a time when I knew every family in Rosewood. We don’t just need to rebuild the gym, Blake. We need to rebuild the network that holds this town together. The tornado was a tragedy, but it offered us the perfect project to make that happen. And as the oldest of the Chamberlain children, you’re going to lead the charge. It doesn’t make a lick of difference who’s working with you, because you’re working for the common good.”
Blake sat back in his chair. He reached out for the platter and shoved a butter cookie into his mouth. He might be a teacher, but he’d just been schooled.
“Now, if you’re quite finished complaining, I’d like you to move along. My guest should be here any minute.”
