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Chapter 25
Gavin stepped up to the front door of an old, Victorian house he’d never been to and glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand, then back up at the wrought iron house numbers nailed above the doorframe.
Yep. He was in the right place. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing here, but he was in the right place.
The door stood slightly ajar and he stepped up to it and knocked. “Grandmother Valentine? Are you here? It’s Gavin.”
When his grandmother had called him that morning, all she’d given him was the address of this house and the time he should meet her here. When he’d asked why she wanted to see him, she’d merely repeated the address and the time in an even firmer tone of voice.
He glanced at his watch. Two p.m. He was right on time.
Thinking about the edged-open front door, his nerve ends started tingling. He didn’t like it. His grandmother, although steely in spirit, was an elderly woman. What if there was some kind of foul play going down, and she was trapped inside?
He pushed the door open and stepped into what turned out to be a long hallway with closed doors lining it on both sides. To his right, a stairway led to the upper floors. “Grandmother Valentine? Are you here?”
When he yelled out this time, it had a far more authoritative tone. He didn’t plan on letting anything happen to her. Not on his watch. If there was a criminal in the house, Gavin wanted him to hear who he was dealing with by the tone of his voice.
The voice that responded was not that of a criminal, though. It was his grandmother’s, and it floated down from the upper floors. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, boy. I’m on the third floor. Come up here.”
Gavin’s heart beat faster at the sound of her words, however insulting they might seem to an outsider. Relief flooded him. He hadn’t realized how seriously he’d taken the potential threat on an emotional and subconscious level until it was clear that it didn’t exist.
He turned and shut the door behind him then turned the deadbolt with a satisfying click. His steps echoed heavily on the treads as he bounded up the two flights of stairs to the third floor.
He stepped onto a small, hardwood-floored landing and saw that there was a door that opened on the far side of it and, much like the front door downstairs, it was standing slightly ajar.
“It’s like she has zero regard for her own personal safety,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I can hear you, I’m not deaf,” came Grandmother Valentine’s strong voice from beyond the door. “Come in, son. I don’t plan to stand around here all day.”
He pushed open the door, his curiosity completely piqued by this point, and stepped into a large and empty room, grounded by the same hardwood floors as the landing, with white walls and crown molding overhead. To the left was a kitchen area, and off to the right were two closed doors. His grandmother stood directly in the middle of the expansive space with her young, strong, olive-skinned aid just behind her.
“Well,” Grandmother Valentine said, “What do you think?”
“Of?”
She extended her hand in a general gesture around the room. “Of this. Of, I think the young people would say, ‘the space.’”
Gavin cast his gaze around the apartment again, taking in the details with a more critical eye. He noticed the interesting angles of the room that created smaller nooks at the edges of the larger space, the dormer windows that looked down on the entire town and the endless ocean beyond, and the top of the line appliances that filled the kitchen.
He moved to the closed doors and opened them, stepping inside each of the rooms behind them as he did. One was a bedroom, with views that were just as stunning as the main living space, and one was a bathroom, which was period charming but with new and modern amenities.
The apartment somehow managed to feel both cozy and spacious at the same time, which was quite an achievement.
Still, Gavin was skeptical.
He rejoined his grandmother, shaking his head ruefully. “It’s not that it’s not a great apartment, Gran. It is. But my main concern is that it’s on the third floor.”
Her face drew together. “And why is that a concern?”
He tilted his head to the side, thought about how to deliver his reservations in the least insulting way possible. He put a hand to her elbow and spoke gently. “Well, it’s at the top of two flights of stairs. And not any flights of stairs, but steep ones. I would have a real issue with you going up and down them any time you needed to leave the house. A fall could cause a serious injury. Or worse.”
She shook off his arm and gave him a look that made clear to him that she doubted his faculties and wondered how he even managed to feed and clothe himself. “It’s not for me, Gavin. Good lord.”
He felt immediately embarrassed for having thought that, even though he wasn’t sure why– and he still wasn’t quite sure what was actually going on. “Oh, um…okay,” he stammered. “I thought you might be downsizing, and looking for my opinion.”
She sniffed with derision at the word “downsizing,” and Gavin realized after several long seconds of silence that she didn’t plan to elaborate. It was his turn to speak again.
“So,” he ventured, “is this an investment property you’re considering? Is that why you’re asking for my opinion, to help you make a decision?”
