Three
Three
THREE WEEKS UNTIL CHRISTMAS
Wes loved working with his brothers. Between the three of them, they had multiple investment properties and ongoing projects in their communities and beyond. Under the Squishy Cat Industries title, they’d followed their hearts, pooling their interests and money to be part of things they could feel proud of.
They’d recently closed the deal on an old apartment building on the outskirts of San Verde with plans of renovating and updating all the units to hopefully establish it as a housing cooperative for families. Noah, their middle brother, was whipping through the slides showing the different options—lofts, one bedroom or two bedrooms—in varying states of disrepair, at an alarming speed.
Chris, the youngest of the Jansen brothers, set his cup of coffee on the table. “Noah, seriously. Did you add espresso shots to your coffee this morning? Slow down.”
Wes smirked. It was always nice when he didn’t have to be the one to rein Noah in.
Noah stopped, turned, and looked at his brothers. “I want to get to the good parts. I’ve got a call into a local construction company who’s been missing out on bids lately. They do great work and I think this would be another perfect partnership for us.”
“You didn’t answer the espresso questions,” Wes pointed out.
Chris laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Grace knows better than to let him start the day like that. She likes us.”
Noah, who had an enviable ability to let things roll off his shoulders, came to the table and sat across from them.
“Fine. If it’s too much for you two to follow along, I’ll send an email with a list of renovations and projected cost,” he said, looking at Wes. “Unless you want to make one of your pretty spreadsheets.”
Wes laughed. “You joke but you’ve been grateful for them many times. Let’s switch gears.” Wes tapped his phone, mirroring his screen to project in front of them. He brought up their joint calendar.
“It’s December eighth. How is our month this packed?” Chris asked.
Wes walked them through client meetings and business dinners first, then switched to their personal plans that included all of them. He considered it a great stroke of luck that all the women in their lives were genuinely close and loved hanging out all together.
A text message, including a photo, came through his phone, flashing up on the screen.
Hailey
I added to the murder board! Our wedding catering options have been narrowed down to Classy Catering or Savvy Suppers. We have tastings at both this weekend.
Noah got out of his seat, going to the screen before Wes could take his phone off of mirroring. “Why does your crime board have wedding items on it?”
Wes disconnected from the screen and quickly typed a message back to Hailey.
Wes
Could we please stop calling it a murder board?
Hailey
Sorry. Wedding board. Love you.
Wes
?
Before Hailey, emojis weren’t his thing.
When he looked up from his phone, both of his brothers were staring at him with matching amused expressions.
“Explain yourself,” Noah said.
“How could you take up scrapbooking and not tell us,” Chris said, laughing around his words.
Wes pushed back from the table. “I wanted to have everything displayed. Like a giant, visual checklist. Mock all you want but Hailey and I will have an amazing wedding.”
Chris stood up, clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course you will. By the end of June, all three of us will be married men.”
The expression on Noah’s face made it clear he was thinking about Grace.
Wes shook his head. “We’ve gotten off track. Let’s finish up so we can all go home.”
“Everyone good for this weekend at my place? A calm gathering before the storm of holiday parties and activities,” Noah said.
They often headed out to his and Grace’s beautiful home near the water. The two of them had met when Grace moved next door and became Noah’s interior designer. They’d actually married there on Valentine’s Day earlier this year. Sort of like Wes and Hailey’s beginning, the two of them had not experienced love at first sight. Though, Grace had admitted to seeing Noah come out of the water before she moved next door, so she often said it was lust at first sight.
Chris had worked with his wife, Everly, at the local San Verde radio station, which his father had owned at the time.
“I’m taking Hailey out to Ocean Point Beach Club tonight see what she thinks,” Wes shared.
“Swanky. You guys are going all-out,” Noah said.
The guest list wasn’t huge because Hailey didn’t have a lot of people on her side, but Wes wanted to treat her to the elegance he felt she deserved.
“I just want her to be happy. Her parents made it very clear they couldn’t contribute, which is fine, but I think it bothers her that her mom isn’t more involved.” Wes stood up, slipped his laptop into his messenger bag.
“That sucks for her but at least she has a lot of great women in her life who can be there for her,” Chris said.
He followed both of his brothers out the doorway of their main office. They’d converted the well-lit, open space above some shops, including Hailey’s, into the headquarters for Squishy Cat Industries. In an unexpected twist, their mother, who they were a lot closer to than their father, had bought up the row of buildings, knowing her sons would utilize the space well. She still charged them rent though, which made Wes laugh. She acted so tough but he knew she invested that money for them, sort of like she’d held on to a percentage of their allowance when they were teens to teach them about saving money.
They chatted on the street in front of Baked, the bakery next door to Hailey’s shop, By the Cup, about Christmas gifts and plans before parting ways and each heading home to their own partners.
As Wes walked to his car, he marveled again at how far all of them had come. Though this part of his life wasn’t part of any plan he’d ever had, the whole falling in love thing, he couldn’t be happier. He’d rerouted, made a new plan, and it was going perfectly.