Chapter Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Simon
The mural was going to be spectacular assuming I hadn’t lost my skills, which admittedly was a pretty big assumption.
I’d stayed later than I intended but Tim and I had a lot to discuss about the design and the colors.
Mostly, he was letting me do whatever I wanted but he had some solid ideas for customer engagement and promotion of the Scoop.
We’d also worked out a price for the mural that was going to make the idea bubbling in my brain potentially feasible but I still had to work out some details.
Finding that trunk full of my work from Gramps had unlocked something inside me.
And Hannah, having Hannah encourage me, had sealed the deal.
I wanted to be an artist again. I’d missed it as if I’d lost a part of my soul.
Providing for Charlie and Lor had become my number one priority and I had no regrets, but now, as Lorelei had pointed out on her visit, they were doing all right and maybe, just maybe, I could take back my own life, too.
I maneuvered my Jeep down the narrow dirt road to the cottage.
I saw Davis Fisk teaching his oldest how to ride a bike.
We shared a wave and a smile and I thought about my condo in Raleigh, where I didn’t know my neighbors because the hours I kept made it impossible to ever meet anyone, and I realized that I didn’t want to leave the Split.
I wanted to stay here with Hannah and Dude and build the life of my dreams. I could make art again and Hannah could keep doing her online content or maybe go back to being a journalist. If Tim was right and my mural painting could be developed into a business, I could make enough money to pay for Charlie’s care, while getting back into the illustration game.
Quit. The. Business. Those three little words felt like a key unlocking a jail cell. It felt as if a weight that had been pressing on my chest for eight long years had finally been lifted.
This was all because of Gramps. In his note, he had said to choose happiness.
For the longest time, happiness hadn’t even been on my radar, but being here and becoming a part of this community, having the time to create and find my passion again, I could see it.
This summer at the Split had changed me and I didn’t want to go back to the way I was.
I wanted to stay right here in this place and time with the woman I loved.
I glanced at the seat beside me. I had impulsively picked up two blue hydrangea plants for the pots on either side of the cottage’s front door.
Hannah had been making the house more of a home with little touches here and there, like new bath towels and vases of fresh-cut wildflowers from the neighborhood that she gathered on our walks.
She’d mentioned replacing whatever had died in those front porch planters, and I’d seen the hydrangea and the deep blue petals of the flowers reminded me of her eyes.
I debated how I could tell her that without sounding like I was completely besotted with her.
Yeah, I was just going to have to own it.
I pulled up to the house, excited to see my woman—yes, she was mine even if she didn’t realize it yet—when I noticed the silver Bentley with Florida plates parked in front. My heart dropped into my feet. Oh, shit!
I jammed the car into park and jumped out, not even bothering to shut off the engine.
Fear was coursing through me as I realized Hannah was at the mercy of my father.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt her physically. My father never laid a hand on any of us.
His cruelty came in the form of words and neglect.
So help me, if he said one rotten thing to her, I would lay my hands on him and make him regret it.
“Hannah!” I ran up the walkway to the house and there she was, standing on the top step like a queen with my father looking up at her from the base of the steps. Her arms were crossed over her chest as if in challenge to my father. She was fantastic!
My father whipped around and glared at me. “Where have you been?”
“Working.” Not a total lie.
His gaze moved over me, taking in my cargo pants, work boots, and ratty T-shirt. “I find that difficult to believe.”
I glanced from him to Hannah. How much had they spoken?
Did he know who she was? Hannah must have sensed my unease because she patted her thigh and Dude left his spot where he’d been staring down my father—good dog!
—and trotted up the steps to her side. Our gazes met and she shook her head ever so slightly, indicating that my father didn’t know who she was.
“I’ll let you talk in private,” she said. And then she went inside without another word, closing the door behind her.
“Really, Simon?” my father snapped.
“Really what?” I asked.
“That.” My father waved his hand at the house. “You have a woman and her dog here with you in my father’s house?”
And there it was. I turned away from him and rolled my eyes.
I’d been in such a good mood before he arrived.
I walked back to the Jeep I’d left running, reached through the open window, and switched the engine off.
My father didn’t move from his place in front of the house.
I had no doubt he wanted to be invited in.
Not gonna happen. I wasn’t letting him anywhere near Gramps’s sanctuary.
“I’m disappointed in you, Simon,” Dad said in his usual disapproving tone. “You should have informed me about my inheritance.”
I mimicked his stance, shoving my hands in my pockets. A good place to put them to keep from strangling him. “There was no need, because it’s not yours.”
“I am Robert O’Malley’s son.” It was a declarative statement.
“But not his heir,” I said. “I am.”
“You can’t cut me out.” My father checked the time on his Rolex as if he’d expected to have already won my acquiescence by now.
“I don’t have to,” I said. “Gramps already did that.”
“I’ll take you to court.”
“Really? You’re going to sue me for my inheritance?”
“If I have to.” Dad brushed some imaginary lint off his sleeve. “And I’ll win.”
“Doubt it,” I said. “Because only half of the house was left to me. The other half belongs to someone else.”
“What are you talking about?” Dad dropped his hands and balled his fingers into fists while a deep frown marred his forehead.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” I asked. My tone was feigned curiosity with subtle notes of smug. “Then you aren’t aware that Gramps bought this cottage with…a friend.”
“Friend?” My father scoffed. “If you’re referring to that limp-wristed TV whore—”
“Don’t.” I reached forward and grabbed my father by the lapel of his suit, lifting him until he was standing up on his toes and we were nose to nose. “Say. Another. Word.”
“What? You think I didn’t know that my own father was—” I halted his words with a rough shake. He snapped his head toward the house as if he’d just put it together. “Is that who that woman is? The granddaughter of the queer who turned your grandfather?”
“No one was turned,” I snapped, releasing him. I was disgusted with him and myself for losing my temper. “They were soulmates who were lucky enough to find each other again and have a second chance.”
My father recoiled, horror on his face, and then he stepped forward with his teeth bared and fists still clenched.
“You listen to me, Simon. This house will be mine and you will get it for me. I don’t care if you have to fuck that woman into signing it over to you.
You’ll do it or I’ll come after you and have you removed from the conservatorship of your brother. ”
“That’s it!” I’d never wanted to hit another human being as badly as I did right now. “Time for you to leave, old man.” It was a cheap shot to his vanity but still satisfying.
“What did you call me?” Dad snapped, jutting his chin forward.
“You heard me.” I grabbed him by the elbow and began to escort him to his car. I hadn’t planned to throw hands with my father but the minute he’d insulted Gramps, he’d lit the match, and when he mentioned Hannah and Charlie, he burned it all down.
“Not another fucking word.” I half dragged, half carried him to his Bentley and then shoved him toward his car. “Get off my property now.”
“You’re going to regret this, Simon!” Dad shouted. “I don’t care who owns this property with you. I will file a partition action for full ownership and take it away from you and your little friend.”
“Sorry, old man, but I’m not a kid and you can’t take the ladder from the tree house and leave me alone in the dark anymore.”
Dad looked as if he was going to take a swing at me. I braced myself. If he wanted a fight, I’d give him one. Before he could make a move, Dude came bounding out of the house, snarling with an impressive amount of teeth showing.
My father scrambled to get into his car. He just made it. Still, Dude jumped up, putting his paws on the driver’s side window and dropping a nice splat of drool on the glass.
“Dude!” I called him off, not to protect my father but rather to keep my father from hurting the dog. Dude barked a few more times and pushed off, coming back to stand beside me.
My father hit the gas and sped away, leaving a cloud of dirt behind him.
“Not for nothing,” Hannah said from behind me. “But what an asshole.”
I spun to face her. Before Hannah could read my expression, I cupped her head and pulled her in close, kissing her with a fierceness that made my hunger for her flash through me like a bolt of lightning. I hated that she’d had to deal with him.
“Don’t let anything he said bother you.” I leaned back to study her face. “He’s a miserable man who’s never cared for anyone but himself.”
“Is it true about Charlie? Could he do that?” She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes studying my expression, looking for the truth.
“No,” I said. “Don’t let him rattle you. He’s the very definition of a—”
“Shit stirrer,” Hannah supplied.
My lips twitched. No one nailed descriptions quite like Hannah. “Yeah. That.”
“Okay.” She nodded. Then she hugged me tight and I pressed my head to her hair and wrapped my arms around her. I would not let my father use Charlie as leverage, and I wouldn’t let him take the place Hannah and I were making into a home away from her…from us.