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Grandma approached with confidence and threw her arms around him. “I’m so happy you came.” She had tied a pink scarf in her silvery hair and wore bright white linen pants with a floral top. Stylish as ever.
The pressure cinched down on him like a dallied lariat. Yep. He felt like a ten-year-old kid again. The one who’d wholly and completely destroyed their family. “Hi, Grandma.” He gave her an awkward hug in return.
“You!” She held him at arm’s length, tears filling her blue eyes, and squeezed his arms. “A strong one, huh?” She winked, but the shine in her eyes swelled the thickness in his throat. “That ranch life is treating you well.”
He gave her a half laugh. “Thanks.” She still had the power to embarrass him.
She sniffed, nodded, and blinked.
As soon as she released him, Grandpa stepped up and gave Grayson a handshake and a half hug. “Glad you came.” He’d lost weight since his heart attack and looked healthier. “Good drive?” His dark-gray hair had thinned a little more on top, but he sported a tan under the Hawaiian-print button-up he wore. “I heard they’d already started some construction projects through Grand Rapids.”
Small talk. Always awkward. “Yeah. Long,” Grayson said. The chitchat made his skin itch. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes—certainly.” Grandma gestured toward the bistro table where Grayson’s coffee sat. “Let’s sit down.”
He took his seat, and each of them slid into the empty chairs.
“Here you go.” Robin placed two more cups of coffee on the table.
Grandpa settled in. “Working at the camp, huh?” He nodded. “That’s good. Very good.”
Grayson sipped his coffee. Let the hot, bitter fluid scald his throat.
Grandma shuffled through her tote bag and pulled out a manila envelope. She slid it across the table to him. “Here. This is yours.”
He looked up at her and wiped his hands on the napkin. He was pretty sure he knew what was in the envelope, but oh, now he didn’t want to see it, even if he needed it.
Robin watched from the bakery counter. Grayson tugged the metal tabs up and lifted the flap, then drew out the stack of papers inside. Thumbed through them.
A lot line map. A quitclaim deed. His name. Wow. They’d given him Mom and Dad’s vacant lot.
The one with the lake view where they’d planned to build their family home.
He swiped a hand over his face. Oh boy. This was going to be harder than he’d thought.
Robin walked over and slid into the empty seat at the table, her brows drawn tight. She stared at the deed, her eyes skimming down it. “You’re giving him the lot?” The lilt in her voice said the gears were churning. “Were you pulling my leg about the place in Oregon? Are you actually here to stay?”
Grandma looked at him, her lips twisted and brows creased. “Why would he stay?”
“He doesn’t have a job in Oregon—”
“You lost your job?” Grandpa joined the fray.
Grayson held up his hand. “I’m buying my own place.” He looked at Robin. “In Oregon. One of the trainers I know is closing his business—offered me a good deal.”
“But you’re working at Trinity. You could build on this lot. Stay.” Robin tapped her finger on the lot map.
“I can’t.” And no, he wasn’t excited to sell it. To part with that dream. Unfortunately, he didn’t know any other way he’d be able to buy Vincent’s place.
Oh boy. Grayson fought to speak through the slew of emotions that pinched his throat. “I’m helping Noah out for the summer. That’s it. My life is in Oregon.”
Robin crossed her arms. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“At my own place, I can run some youth programs. There isn’t a camp like Trinity there.”
Grandpa tapped the paperwork. “Selling this lot will go a long way toward that goal.”
“You can’t sell their lot, Grayson,” Robin said, her voice pinched. Begging.
