Chapter Three
Three
Hannah
Mr. Cosmo smiled as he shook my hand as if he was completely fine with this strange man claiming his grandfather had left Pops’s cottage to him.
Someone here was confused, misinformed, or something even more nefarious because the only explanation that my racing brain could offer was that Pops had a second family under a different name—O’Malley?
—with a wife and a kid/s and a grandson!
A secret life that no one in my family had known about.
The thought made me woozy. It simply couldn’t be true.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Spencer,” Mr. Cosmo said.
He held out his hand for Dude to sniff, which I thought was rather brave.
Most people steered clear of Dude because of his massive size.
Also, Dude looked like he’d be happy to shed and drool all over the nice man’s suit, but that didn’t seem to concern Mr. Cosmo in the least.
“Good boy, now go play in the yard.” I patted Dude’s head. His ears rose as if he didn’t like the idea of leaving me alone with strangers. “It’s all right.”
With a warning bark at Mr. Cosmo and Simon, who joined us on the deck, Dude turned and ran down the steps to the sloping lawn, where he promptly flopped into the tall grass and rolled onto his back, scratching his itches with gusto.
“Beautiful dog,” Mr. Cosmo said. He gestured to Dude’s black-and-white markings. “A harlequin?”
“Yes, and thank you.” I felt myself soften a bit. “He’s a rescue.”
“I work with the local shelter.” Mr. Cosmo beamed at me. “Rescues make the best pets.”
I could feel a rapport between us happening and took it as a good sign that he would set things straight.
“Mr. O’Malley.” Mr. Cosmo reached out and shook hands with our uninvited guest.
“Call me Simon.”
“And I’m Hannah.” I forced a smile, not wanting to lose the connection I’d forged with the lawyer, especially if I needed his services to clarify things with this interloper.
Yes, that was the word I was looking for.
Interloper. I shot Simon a sideways glance and found him studying me with an equally suspicious gaze.
“Excellent. Please call me Vincent. I’m glad you both could make it.” Vincent gestured to the house. “We have much to discuss and I think we’d be more comfortable inside, yes?”
Simon nodded so I did, too, even though, on principle, I resisted agreeing with him on anything at the moment.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to change into something dry.” I gestured at Simon. “I had to jump into the water and save him when he had an unfortunate accident.”
“Save me?” Simon repeated, looking outraged. “For the record, I did not need saving.”
“Really?” I asked. “You sank like a sack of cement.”
He pressed his lips together as a red flush appeared along his jawline. “I feel compelled to point out that I wouldn’t have needed any assistance if your pet pony hadn’t knocked me off the dock to begin with.”
Vincent’s head swiveled between us as we volleyed accusations back and forth.
I sucked in a gulp of air for my rebuttal when the lawyer said, “I do have another meeting to get to, so perhaps we can put a pin in this discussion and you two can revisit it when I leave?” His tone was bland but it was also all business, letting us know we were going to get charged his lawyerly rate and maybe squabbling like children was not the best use of his time or our money.
“Of course.” Simon and I spoke together—again—which I found incredibly annoying.
Simon disappeared down the hall and came back with a bath towel around his neck and held a second one out to me. “Will this do or would you prefer to change?”
“It’ll do.” I took the towel and was determined not to say anything else but my manners were too ingrained to be ignored. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head and whisked the sheets off the furniture in the living room so that we could sit down while we listened to whatever Vincent had to tell us.
I’d hoped the living room furniture would be less aged than the kitchen, but no. The chairs and matching sofa were upholstered in a rough fabric of turquoise and gray with a decided southwestern flair in the matching triangular throw pillows.
I wrapped the towel around me, wishing I had taken the moment to change, but I suspected it was just me wanting to stall because this meeting had taken a sharp detour into the unknown, for which I was completely unprepared.
How was I going to explain to my family that Pops had a secret life?
He and Nana were divorced. Was this why?
Did she know? Had they been protecting my dad from Pops’s other life all these years?
And if so, why hadn’t Nana at least warned me?
Ugh, I did not want to be the one to tell my dad his father had a second family under a different name tucked away in the Outer Banks.
I cast a side-eye at Simon, noting his square jaw, full lips, and sharp nose.
Did this mean we were related? I supposed we must be.
If we shared a grandfather, then I assumed we were cousins?
He turned toward me as if aware of my scrutiny, and looked at me with one eyebrow raised in equal suspicion. Well, that took some nerve.
“What?” I demanded.
He shook his head and shrugged as if he was trying to dismiss the dark thoughts he was having about me. Obviously, his family didn’t know about my family, either. How had Pops pulled that off?
Simon was clearly trying not to engage, but he couldn’t stick to the script as he cast me a considering glance and said, “I don’t care what sort of relationship you had with Gramps, you’re not inheriting this house.”
“Excuse me?” I drew back. “What exactly is that supposed to mean? And what are you to me anyway? A cousin? A half cousin?”
“Cousin?” he barked as if offended by the mere idea. “How do you figure that, bonus grandma?”
“Bonus grandma?” I choked. “What—and I cannot emphasize this enough—the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Vincent flinched. I couldn’t blame him. My volume was cranked up to a solid seven and I wasn’t a gal for swearing but…bonus grandma?!
“If I could interject,” Vincent said. His voice was as calm as the water in the channel. “I think there’s been some confusion.”
At that moment, Dude trotted in through the open back door and plopped his butt onto the couch next to me. He rested his head on my shoulder and it was like being comforted by a bowling ball. Vincent smiled at him adoringly before he continued.
“I tried to convince your grandfathers to give their heirs a heads-up, but they were resistant and insisted you would understand and manage the property together just fine.” The dubious expression on Vincent’s face made it clear what he thought of that.
“Hannah, your grandfather has left you his share of this cottage and the property on which it sits.”
I slumped back against the sofa, trying to process. What did he mean when he said “grandfathers”?
“Wait.” Simon held up a hand. “Her grandfather?”
“Yes, William Spencer,” Vincent said.
“But this cottage belongs to my grandfather, Robert O’Malley,” Simon said.
I glanced between the two men. Vincent cleared his throat. “Half of it does, which he left to you.”
“Half.” I sat up, my back rigid. Pops had never ever mentioned that he shared ownership of his cottage. Were there other owners? Was this some sort of time-share nonsense that I could never get out of and was going to regret for the rest of my days?
“Yes, your grandfathers, plural, each owned fifty percent of this house and this property,” Vincent said. “And you have each inherited your grandfather’s half.”
“So, we’re co-owners,” I clarified.
“Precisely.” Vincent beamed at me. Then he grew serious.
“They made no restrictions about what to do with the house and property, so that is entirely up to you, but they did stipulate that you both must reside in the house for the duration of one summer, approximately two months. After that, whatever you decide to do with the property must be consensual. If you decide to sell or one of you buys the other out, you’ll have to sign an affidavit that it’s a mutually-agreed-upon outcome. ”
“That’s easy,” I said. “We’re not selling.” At the same time Simon said, “Of course we’re selling.”
We turned to look at each other and the Excuse me?
tension between us had enough bite that Dude put a ginormous paw over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch what was going to happen next.
Vincent must have felt the same way. He pulled some papers out of his briefcase and plopped them onto the coffee table.
“It’s all explained in here. I’ll give you some time to process the situation.” He grabbed his briefcase and bolted for the exit. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”
The front door slammed shut behind him as Simon and I silently watched him escape.
“Well.” We said it together and then glowered at each other.
“I’m not selling,” I said at the same time Simon asked, “Why would you want to keep this place? It’s so old, it’s probably haunted.”
“It is not!” I protested. As if to mock me, the front door that Vincent had closed behind him slowly creaked open as if letting in a ghost.
“You were saying?” Simon’s tone reeked of I told you so.
“The house has simply been neglected. It’s obviously been months since anyone was here.” I crossed the room and closed the door, giving it a nudge with my hip for good measure. “A little effort will make it habitable again.”
“Effort?” he scoffed. “I hope you mean with an excavator and a dump truck.”
I could feel my temper start to bubble to the surface. I had barely set foot inside the house that Pops had left me, a place that held some of the happiest memories of my childhood, and this guy wanted to demolish it. Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Nohow. Not on my watch.
While I wanted to lash back, I’d learned in my years as a journalist that arguing rarely worked when trying to get a subject to talk to you. I took a deep breath and gave Simon a serene smile.
“You are more than welcome to do whatever you want with your half of the house,” I said. “But I plan to live in mine.”
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“You’ll give yourself one if you try to repair this fixer-upper.” He glowered and I might have been intimidated but it lacked heat.
I didn’t know what Simon’s relationship with his grandfather had been like, but Pops and I had been close and I wanted to know why he’d entrusted his special place to me. Whatever Simon O’Malley had going on was not my business, and I wasn’t selling to accommodate him or his issues.
“Considering I’ve been living in a van for the past five years, this house could fall down around me and it would still be a palace in my eyes.”
“You’ve been living in a van?” His eyes went wide with horror. “For five years?”
I nodded. “I travel the country in it posting online about my journey. It’s what I do for a living.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again but no words came out. Well, obviously, that shut him up. I tried not to look too pleased with myself. I failed.
“Well, that’s—” Simon stopped talking and shoved off the couch, rising to his feet, as if he needed to take a beat to think about things. “I’m going to go and secure my boat.”
I watched him stride out the back door and made a quick grab for Dude’s collar so that he didn’t follow him. One dunking incident for the day was enough. As soon as the door shut behind Simon, I went to retrieve some dry clothes from my van.
It was muggy outside and I could feel a sheen of sweat coat my skin as I pulled open Buttercup’s sliding door.
I glanced up at the sky and noticed several dark gray, bottom-heavy clouds rolling our way.
Rain was coming. I glanced back at the house.
Rough weather inside and out. It was going to be a fun night!
I riffled through the clean clothes I stored in a built-in cupboard.
My wardrobe was utilitarian so I chose another pair of cargo shorts and a fresh tank top and underwear.
I glanced at the house and wondered if we had running water and how long it would take to get the electricity turned on.
I knew a house was going to bring more responsibilities than my van, but I hadn’t anticipated a reluctant roommate being one of them.
My disappointment at the complication of a joint ownership of Pops’s cottage was immense.
I’d so been looking forward to having a place to myself to unplug, detox, and figure out my life.
How the heck was I supposed to do that with six foot two of resentful hot guy underfoot?
I tried to look at the bright side. At least he wasn’t my cousin.