CHAPTER TWELVE
Garrick
I’m in my parents’ house for five minutes and already I’m letting go of my plan and forgetting all my boundaries. It’s unbelievable how quickly I fall back into old patterns once I’m around my family again.
And this walk to my father’s office is a very familiar pattern. Whenever I fucked up, which was often, I was forced to go to his office, where I’d endure a lecture and sentencing. There was never a trial. My side was never allowed to be heard. I’m the family fuck up. Of course, I was at fault.
Usually, it would be both my parents holding court behind my father’s enormous oak desk. Hopefully, since he’s alone, this will be a merry catch-up session.
I snort and stare at the heavy, oaken door. Unlikely.
It’s not too late. I could find my mother and Blue and insist on sticking by my girlfriend’s side. I’m an adult. I’m no longer subject to my parents’ rules.
“I hear you out there, Garrick. Get your derelict ass in here.”
It’s not too late. I could still run.
“Get in here or I’ll show your baby pictures to your new girlfriend. And I’ll start with the one of you in the bathtub.”
Aw, shit.
I open the door, feeling like that kid I used to be, but the man seated at the desk isn’t the father I remember. It’s only been two years, but my father’s coal black hair has gone completely white and his face has new lines etched deep enough to make him look old. When did my father get old?
I’m practically the baby of seven kids. And my father was in his mid-thirties when my parents started having kids. Rationally, I knew he was getting older, but it’s an entirely different experience to see him looking like an old man.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “I had pneumonia a few months ago. It put me in the hospital and recovery is a bitch at seventy-three. If you visited more often, it wouldn’t be a shock.”
“I didn’t know you were sick.” What if he’d died, and I hadn’t known? What if I’d missed my chance to say goodbye?
He waves a hand. “I was fine. If it had been serious, someone would have called you. Anything else, you should have called home yourself.”
I’m kicking Hudson’s ass later for not telling me about Dad. He was probably sworn to secrecy. He’s a big believer, like the rest of my siblings, in the family code of honor.
“Stop plotting revenge on your brothers and sit your ass down. I want to talk to you.”
“I’m not moving home.” This is one boundary, at least, I can stand firm on. “I’m not working for the resort.”
“I’ve not yet achieved the kind of wealth that would allow me to force you to work for me without some sort of legal repercussions. Nor do I have the chair in front of my desk rigged up over a shark tank.”
I can’t help smiling at that. “Still haven’t let go of that dream.”
“Thwarted by your mother every time.” His smile is as fond as it always is when he speaks of my mother.
“That, animal rights, physics, and basic human decency.” I take the seat and manage not to check for any trapdoors on the floor.
He laughs. “Damn human limitations.” He sobers just as quickly. He reaches for a file folder on his desk and flips it open. “I’ve been keeping tabs on this little business you have in Yuletide.”
My body tenses, preparing for a fight. “What kind of tabs?”
He keeps flipping pages like whatever he’s got in that folder is fascinating. “I had my doubts, but you’ve made this business of yours quite successful.” He looks up at me. “I underestimated you, Garrick, and I’m sorry.”
I stare at him, sure I’ve misheard. “By underestimated, you mean I’m an even bigger fuck up than you ever imagined?”
He winces. “I’ve never thought you were a fuck up, just misguided. You never took anything seriously. I had no idea you have such a good head for business.”
The truth dawns on me slowly. “Hudson showed you my books when he helped me out last winter.”
My dad looks confused for only a moment before his expression clouds with anger. “Are you accusing your brother of betraying his own blood?”
Shit. I forgot just how seriously my father takes family honor. Or maybe I assumed it no longer stretched to include me. “It’s the only answer that makes any sense. I don’t give just anyone access to my books.”
“But I can go on your website and see all of your bookings,” my father says. “And I have ways of getting more information when I need it. I’d think you’d know that.”
“So when you say you underestimated me…”
My father slaps a hand on his desk. “For God’s sake, Garrick. Are you really this dense, or are you fishing for compliments?”
“Pretend I’m really this dense.” Damn right I want to hear him say it.
“I’m proud of you. Your business is solid and well-run. Your staff likes and respects you and every client you’ve had leaves glowing reviews.”
“Except for the drunk frat guys who wrecked my snowmobile and tried to blame me.” That one still stings.
“I can make that go away if you’d like.”
“Nope.” I hold out my hand palm up to soften the way I just yelled that word. “It’s okay. I think it should be clear I don’t need help.”
“You don’t need help, but Yuletide isn’t the right place for your business.”
Here we go. I cross my arms over my chest. “Yuletide is a great town, and you just said my business is doing well.”
“The town is full of traditionalists who don’t want to see anything change. I’ve tried to open businesses there, to facilitate travel from Sugar Valley to Yuletide for day trippers, but the town’s never let me do any of it. It’s not the right place to grow a business.”
“Where is the right place, Dad? Sugar Valley?”
His eyes light. “Exactly.”
Clearly, he’s done no research before deciding I should bring my business here. “And what should I do? Have Evergreen Expeditions become part of Riverton Enterprises?”
His brow creases. “It’s your company. I don’t want to change that.”
“I get that you’re trying to help, but there’s already a successful guide business here in Sugar Valley.”
“You don’t think there’s room for you? I’ve looked into them as well and they’re running a shoddy operation. You’ll pull all their clients away from them in no time.”
“Look—”
He holds up a hand. “Hear me out. Do I wish you lived closer to all of us? Yes. Absolutely. But I’m not asking you to make your business part of ours. I’m just offering advice from one business owner to another. You’d have a much clearer path here than you have in Yuletide.”
It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but once they do, relief floods me. Relief and a sense of pride that he just said he sees me as an equal. And his point isn’t off the mark. I could use a smoother path forward. “I’ll consider it. Thanks, Dad.”
He nods. “Just one more thing.”
I brace for impact.
“Don’t give me that look. I was just going to say if you’re looking for some help or a partner, talk to Mav. He won’t admit it, but he’s going crazy being confined to an office all day.”
“He loves marketing and graphic design.”
Dad nods. “He does, but he’s not an indoor cat. Talk to him. See if he’d have any interest.”
I don’t respond to the suggestion, but my brain’s already spinning with the possibilities. Mav and I haven’t always gotten along, but hiking or snowmobiling or snowboarding were always more fun with him.
Of course, that would mean letting my family back in and I’m not at all sure I can trust my parents to stay out of my business or not to take over.
“Hudson says you and Mom are thinking about retiring.”
Dad gets up, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “More than just thinking about it. Come on. Introduce me to this girlfriend of yours.”
He moves awkwardly around the desk, holding onto the behemoth from the early nineteen hundreds like he can’t get around on his own anymore. He’s lost weight. A lot of it.
I get up quickly and wrap an arm around his waist, letting him lean on me. “It’s good to see you, Dad.” I mean it.
“You don’t need to help me.” Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me one squeeze before stepping away and opening the door to his study. “I’m just a little stiff when I first get up after sitting for a while.”
Together, we walk down familiar hallways and through rooms that look exactly as they have since I was a kid. As we go, he seems to get taller, his gait improving as the stiffness shakes out. It’s a relief that he’s not as frail as I first thought.
I hear the laughter and the voices before we reach my mother’s favorite sitting room. I walk in with Dad to find Blue holding court among my family. She appears to be completely at ease, telling a story about the first time she tried snowshoeing.
My mother and siblings are rapt. Not a one of them is on their phone or distracted. That’s the effect Blue has on people. She’s a charmer, even when she’s being obnoxious and difficult.
When I move closer, she sees me and her shoulders drop, her expression relaxing. As happy as she looked in here without me, the way my presence brings her comfort warms something in me, makes me feel like I could walk on water.
I’m the one this charismatic, successful, brilliant woman wants to be with, at least in this house.
She smiles, her eyes lighting and, for just a moment, I let myself imagine this is real. I’m the first Riverton son to bring a partner home and she is incredible, and she loves me more than anyone else in the world.
Obviously, I stuff down the feeling immediately. This isn’t real. It can never be real. I don’t want real.
I can’t have real until my business is truly successful and firmly in the black. I can’t have real until I have a staff who can cover me so I can give a partner the time and energy she deserves. Until I have time for a family.
I make my way over to Blue and sit on the small couch right next to her. She reaches for my hand and I lace my fingers through hers. It feels good to have someone on my side as I face my family, even if it’s all for show.