Chapter 25
Remember, you have to act surprised.” I open the passenger door for Gramps and hold out my hand for his.
“I feel like the belle of the ball.” He daintily accepts my hand and steps out of the car.
“You are! And you look the part, too.”
Gramps and I had rummaged through his drawer full of unused ties and found the most extravagant one: deep plum with colorful parrots printed on it. It’s absurd.
“A gift from my niece,” Gramps said with a grimace. I laughed. Gramps’s niece is Lenore’s daughter, Sheila, whom I’ve always thought of as my most glamorous cousin. She currently lives on a beach in Thailand, running a hostel.
We’d built the rest of Gramps’s outfit around the tie: a lavender dress shirt paired with a navy-blue two-piece suit. He only owns one pair of dress shoes: black patent-leather wingtips, which he had polished to a high shine right before we left the condo.
I’d decided on my black wrap dress and strappy nude sandals. I didn’t pack many suitably festive outfits. (The carefully winged liquid eyeliner and sparkly lip gloss may or may not have been applied with Daniel in mind.)
My heart pounds as we approach the front door of Pebble Cottage.
Partly because of the “surprise” about to take place, but also because of a certain something—someone—I left in the back bedroom.
I left him with food, water, toys, and a bed.
But still, I’d been anxious about it ever since I closed the door and promised to be back soon.
What if I was causing him additional trauma by bringing him to a strange location and leaving him all alone?
What if he destroyed the bedroom in his anxiety?
Not that there is anything in there to destroy. What if—
Breathe. Focus on getting Gramps to the party first.
I lead the way inside and Gramps marvels at the bare, floor-less floors. I open the back door and say loudly, “This way, Gramps. I want to show you something.”
He pokes his head out and says (a little too theatrically in my opinion), “Ooh, what can it be?”
“Surprise!”
Even though I know it’s coming, I’m startled by the sudden noise and the sight of my extended family jumping out of the shrubbery.
Gramps utters a high-pitched shriek. I’m pretty sure he missed his calling as a thespian. The guests apparently buy his over-the-top reaction; they’re eating it up, clapping, cheering, and whistling.
“Happy birthday, Dad!” My mom bustles forward and plants a kiss on his cheek.
“What a surprise to see you, my dear girl!” Gramps grabs her shoulders and kisses her back. I elbow him lightly to tell him to take it down a notch.
Other relatives and friends swarm to greet him, and I hang back, surveying the faces. I don’t think Daniel’s here yet—not that I am looking for him. Not at all. But, you know, he doesn’t know anyone else here, so I should greet him and introduce him to people, to be polite.
The backyard looks perfect, if I say so myself.
The sun is just setting, casting a golden-orange glow over the pool and garden, the lanterns and twinkly lights adding little spots of warmth to the scene.
The balloon arch is mounted over the dessert table that Trish brought.
The balloons look fabulous arching over the blue solar system birthday cake.
Trish also set up a makeshift bar cart, which I predict is going to cause some trouble with this crowd.
After they greet Gramps, my parents and Trish pull me in for hugs, oohing and ahhing about the house.
“It looks absolutely perfect out here,” Trish says. “Lottie would be proud.”
“Did you really tear up all those floors by yourself?” Mom asks.
“Will you hire someone to put in the new floors? Because, you know, Mal, the sooner you can get tenants in here, the better.” Dad gestures emphatically with his gin and tonic.
“Everything will be fine.” I try for a soothing voice. “I have it under control.”
“Yes, Hugh, can’t you see that she has it under control? I’ve never seen you rip up a carpet.”
“Thank you, Mother,” I say. “Now I need a glass of wine. Excuse me for a sec.”
At the bar cart, I pour myself a plastic cup of Chardonnay. My cousin Ellie is helping herself to vodka and cranberry juice. I glance at her sideways.
“What? I’m twenty-one now,” she says, by way of greeting.
“I know. And hi.” I take a sip of the slightly chilled wine and feel the relaxation spread through me instantly. “How’s the ice cream shop?”
“Best job ever. I get a free scoop every shift, and the customers are always happy, because, like, they’re getting ice cream so why wouldn’t they be?”
I lean against the dessert table. “When I was a senior in high school, I worked at a bakery, and it was kind of the same. No one can be rude when you’re handing them a frosted cinnamon bun.”
Ellie nods, gives me a tight smile that may or may not be sarcastic, and walks away to talk to her brother. Of course. Kids these days have no time to make polite chitchat with their elders.
I glance around, looking for either someone else to talk to or some sort of hostess duty to perform.
There are plenty of cups and beverages, and the guests all appear to be enjoying themselves, including Gramps, who is laughing with Lenore and one of his friends from the retirement village.
Maybe I should go check on the surprise I left in the bedroom, make sure he’s okay.
But then I see a tall head of red hair: Daniel is standing near the pool, holding a can of seltzer and talking to Angela.
“You’re here!” I sidle up to them.
“You invited me,” Daniel says, and there’s an adorable edge of nervousness in his voice, as though there’s a chance he wasn’t actually invited.
“I know! I just didn’t think you were here yet.”
“You can’t be late to a surprise party. You’d miss all the fun.”
“Hi, Mallory.” Angela smiles at me. She’s wearing a short skirt and a silky pink blouse, sort of the party equivalent of her usual tennis attire. “Love what you’ve done out here.”
“Thank you! I’m glad you could make it.”
Angela glances from me to Daniel, and I realize how close I’m standing to him. I shuffle half a step sideways.
“I must go say hello to the birthday boy,” she says, and slips away.
“Did she accost you?” I ask Daniel, my voice low.
“Angela? No,” he says, laughing, “we were catching up. I manage a house for her. For her son, mostly, but Angela shows up a lot.”
“She does, doesn’t she?”
“She’s a hoot. And she sends the best Christmas baskets.”
“Christmas baskets?” I lean in conspiratorially. “What are we talking? Pears? Cheese and crackers?”
Daniel nods with a look that says, All that and more . “Flavored popcorn, sausages, chocolates, fruit, you name it.”
“Wow.” I sip my wine. “I should get into a field where people send you holiday baskets.”
“Absolutely. It’s why I got into this business.”
This makes me laugh. “Really?”
He looks at me, deadpan. “Yes, Mallory, I chose my career purely based on the number of gift baskets I might hope to receive.” His jaw twitches a little, and I can’t help but notice the cleft in his chin. I want to press my finger into it.
“Makes sense to me. Working in tech, I never receive so much as a mug for the holidays.”
“Aw, you poor thing. But no, my dad was a handyman and my brother’s a real estate agent, so it just worked out. I had a lot of connections right off the bat just from the people they worked with.”
“What does your other brother do?” I ask, remembering that he mentioned two of them.
“He’s a middle school science teacher.”
“Ha! From catching lizards to teaching science.”
“Hey now, I don’t remember telling you we caught lizards.” He pauses. “But we absolutely did.”
We’re skating perilously close to discussing the first night we met—when we swapped saliva but not names. Part of me wants to toe the line and push the conversation further in that direction, but I decide to be nice. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“So, your family is, like, super enmeshed in the community here,” I say.
“Enmeshed? I mean, I guess we are.”
“You really are. You obviously know everyone in this town. And one brother is a teacher and the other a realtor. It’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I mean, this is like your Stars Hollow. And you’re Lorelai Gilmore.”
“You lost me at Stars Hollow.”
“From Gilmore Girls ?”
“Ah.” He takes a sip of his seltzer. “We were always more of a Sopranos family.”
“Fair enough.” I fidget with my nearly empty cup. “Anyway, it’s nice, that’s all. I’m kind of jealous.”
“What, are you saying you’re not enmeshed up there in Seattle?” He gives me a playful nudge with his elbow.
“Not at all. I’m completely un-meshed.”
He doesn’t reply for a moment, and I worry that I’m sounding a tad pathetic.
“Well, hey,” he says, gesturing around the garden, “look what you’ve done here. You’ve only been here a few weeks and you can pull together a crowd like this.”
“They’re all here because of him. The star of the show!” I nod towards Gramps, who’s clearly having the time of his life in the center of a cluster of friends and family. “Speaking of Gramps, I should introduce you.”
Daniel straightens up and nods dutifully. “Lead the way.”
Walking with Daniel across the yard, I immediately realize the impact this has on my relatives. I should have seen this coming. My parents, Aunt Lenore, even Ellie stop and watch us with avid curiosity, exchanging meaningful looks with one another.
“My property manager,” I explain to Mom and Dad as we pass by. “He manages the house. In a professional capacity.”
Daniel doesn’t seem to notice. When we reach Gramps, he sticks out a confident hand and shakes Gramps’s warmly.
“Gramps, I wanted to introduce you to Daniel McKinnon,” I say. “He’s managing Pebble Cottage for me.”
“Nice to meet you, sir, and happy birthday.” Daniel has turned on the Southern charm, and it does not not charm me.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. McKinnon.” Gramps’s eyes are wide and mischievous as he turns to me. “Mallory, you never told me your property manager was so…”