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“Mitch, this is…. I don’t know what to say!” She raises her wide eyes to mine as she hands over the card.
On the front, there’s a picture of two birds, sitting on a branch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dad flash a self-satisfied grin. “You’re not the only one around here who can play matchmaker, you know.”
I open the card. Inside, there’s a check…
A big check.
Now I know why Gemma’s eyes were so wide. Five-hundred-grand.
I’d protest, but this is between my wife and my dad. I hand the whole bundle back to Gemma.
She immediately tries to pass it to my dad. It’s like we’re three adults, standing around playing hot potato.
He holds his hands up in refusal and chuckles as he shakes his head. “No way. Yours now, and I’ll look forward to seeing your success in the years to come.”
She’s too smart to fight him. She gives a resigned nod and hesitates for only a moment before reaching out to hug him.
As the two embrace, I hear her ask, “What do you mean, about playing matchmaker?”
Dad releases her. She settles in at my side, her arm wrapped around my waist.
He slips his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels again. “I’m glad you asked. I really am. See, I pay a guy to check on the log cabin. He does a walk-through once a month or so. Well, one day he called me up and mentioned pizza boxes in the trash bin, so I figured I knew what was going on, there. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Gemma, you came along asking for an investment, and I figured all I had to do was get you to the cabin and you two would take it from there.”
“You set us up?” Gemma squeals.
I laugh as I pull her to my side. “How’s it feel to be outsmarted, smarty-pants?” I ask, before kissing her temple.
She leans against me. “Pretty good, actually. Pretty freaking good.”
