One
ONE
Reagan
year earlier
“Congratulations!”
I dropped the keys I’d been holding into the outstretched hand belonging to Caylee, one half of the husband-wife duo standing before me.
As Caylee closed her fist around the keys, her husband, Mark, shared words of gratitude. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done, Reagan. We honestly can’t believe nothing happened to put a stop to this.”
I beamed at the pair, holding my head high with a sense of satisfaction. “I told you that when the time was right and everything was as it was meant to be, it would all work out. And here we are. You’re finally homeowners.”
“You were right. We couldn’t have done this without you,” Caylee added.
A wave of accomplishment moved through me. I couldn’t say I didn’t understand the unending appreciation Mark and Caylee had for me. I’d been working with them for just over three years now in their quest to find their first home. They’d worked extraordinarily hard to save up for the home they wanted, but finding that home had proven to be rather difficult.
Either they’d find a home they loved that was out of their price range, or they’d find something within their price range that needed substantial work. There had been two homes they made offers on, but after the inspections were completed, they had reason not to proceed. And in the one instance where they’d found a happy medium between price and value and had put in an offer that got accepted, the seller had backed out at the last minute.
It had been especially frustrating, so it was no surprise that Mark and Caylee had grown a bit forlorn. They’d believed they weren’t destined to own a home, that they’d never find something to call their own.
But with a lot of persistence over the months and years—and substantial encouragement from me—they’d finally gotten here. Just like I knew they would. Just like I knew all my clients would.
Because I was dedicated to that mission. For as long as I could remember, helping people find homes they loved and would build beautiful lives in was all I ever wanted to do in my life.
Although it was frustrating at times to not have success quickly—precisely what had been the case with Mark and Caylee—I never let it get me down. I always remained positive and encouraging to my clients, promising them that things would always work out the way they were meant to work out.
“Well, I’m just so happy I was able to take this journey with the two of you,” I declared. “I’m honestly going to miss talking to the both of you so frequently, but I know that’s a good thing. And I hope your new home is everything you want it to be and more.”
Caylee stretched her arms out and embraced me. “Thank you, Reagan. Maybe once we’ve gotten ourselves in and settled, we can have you over for a visit.”
I gave her a squeeze before loosening my hold. “That sounds lovely. I’ll look forward to it. Now, get out of here and go enjoy that new house.”
The three of us said goodbye to one another before separating and heading in opposite directions in the parking lot. I hopped in my car, happy to head home for the rest of the day. It was approaching dinnertime on a Friday evening, but since it was mid-May, I had a few more hours of daylight ahead of me. I had every intention of taking advantage of the free time I had tonight, because my morning and afternoon on Saturday as well as my morning on Sunday were completely booked with showings.
I’d been ready for this, though.
The nice weather and the end of the school year were both part of the spring rush. And I loved it.
I loved that the spring season brought lots of showings, closings, and work. Work that felt meaningful. The workload I experienced now was what I’d always hoped I’d experience when I decided to go into this career field, so I was happy when I had busy weekends.
I made my way home, whipped up some dinner, and pulled out my journal after I ate. Heading out onto my deck to write for a while, I took advantage of the weather and the lingering bits of sunshine.
This journal, the stack that I had filled and tucked away, was a lifeline for me. As a real estate agent, I spent the better part of most days in contact with others—home buyers, homeowners, other agents, mortgage lenders, administrative staff at the office, and photographers. But just because I had regular, frequent contact with so many people, life hadn’t exactly been kind to me when it came to lasting friendships or relationships. And considering I had moved to Steel Ridge just ten years ago when I was twenty-two and starting my career, it wasn’t like I’d had people wanting to get together with me every now and then.
So, I journaled.
And I used my journal to share the things that were nearest and dearest to my heart, things I imagined I would have said to someone, if anyone would have been interested in sticking around.
I couldn’t say I wasn’t lonely.
I was.
But I was doing the best I could with the hand I’d been dealt. The amount of heartbreak I’d suffered had led to me not wanting to try so hard to form deep connections. And I was happier knowing I wouldn’t need to worry about being disappointed by anyone ever again.
Instead, I found happiness in the little things I could do for myself.
I had a career I loved.
I was standing on my own, relying on nobody but me to take care of myself.
And I had a home of my own.
Finally.
Having gone for so long without knowing what it felt like to have a real home, I took great pride in my house. I decorated and renovated. I enjoyed spending time here, in a place that felt safe and welcoming. It didn’t have everything I wished it would have, but it was the best I’d ever had, and that was more than enough for me.
As I sat on the deck, preparing to write in my journal, I watched and listened to the birds chirping and chasing after one another.
A smile formed on my face.
Because I now had a plan for after my showing on Sunday afternoon. As it turned out, I wasn’t partial to finding homes for humans. I liked giving them to birds, too.
So, I’d pick up another birdhouse this weekend, feel good about what I was doing, and enjoy the simple pleasures in life. I really had no need for anything else.
* * *
Hart
“I really wish you would let me give you some gas money.”
half of my mouth quirked as I shook my head. “We’ve been over this more times than I can count, Gram. I’m not taking any money from you.”
“Why not? When I die, it’s going to be yours anyway.”
Tipping my chin down, I narrowed my eyes on her. “Can you please not talk about you dying? That doesn’t make me more inclined to take your money. If anything, it does the opposite.”
She harrumphed. “I guess I should consider myself lucky that you allow me to make you lunch as a token of my appreciation.”
That Dottie Anderson even thought she needed to show me appreciation was absurd. After everything she’d done for me in my life, the least I could do was drive her to her hair appointments every other Saturday.
I’d been doing this for her for three years now, and never once had I expected her to pay for my gas. Despite repeatedly turning down her offer, my grandmother still felt compelled to suggest it every other weekend I saw her.
“Well, I hope you know I’m not having lunch with you as some sort of repayment for me taking you to your appointment,” I pointed out. “I do it because I enjoy the company.”
She set her glass of iced tea down and sent me a pointed stare. “What about your other company?”
“Pardon?”
A sheepish grin washed over her face. “I was talking to the girls at the salon today.”
Oh boy. I already knew where this conversation was heading. “Yeah? And?”
“They all love you, Hart. You’re the sweetest guy. Do you know I’m the only one there who can get her handsome grandson to take her to the salon? Most of the others say their grandsons can’t seem to be bothered.”
I smiled at her. “That’s unfortunate. Those kids clearly don’t know what they’re missing.”
Gram nodded her agreement. “Yes, that’s true. But seeing how great you are has led to some of the ladies feeling a sense of longing. And two of them have tried to get me to give them your phone number.”
Alright. So, maybe I hadn’t correctly assumed where the conversation was going. “Do they need rides as well?”
She shook her head. “No. No, they want your number, because they want to pass it along to their single granddaughters.”
And there it was. Proof that I knew her well enough.
“Would I be correct to assume you didn’t pass my number out this morning?” My tone was light and teasing, but the last thing I needed to do was get involved with any of my grandmother’s friends’ granddaughters. That’d changed their impression of me quickly.
“I did not,” she grumbled. Following a beat, she added, “But I was tempted.”
“Please don’t.”
Gram sighed. “I don’t understand why not.”
There was one person in this world who had any influence in my life, and that was my grandmother. I hated disappointing her more than anything, but this was one area of my life where I would not bend.
“It’s just a personal choice. I’m not interested in getting involved in a serious relationship,” I said, telling her something she’d known for years now.
“But you’re so handsome and charming and caring. You’d make a great husband and father one day.”
“Gram, I don’t even want to be a boyfriend, let alone a husband. And let’s not talk about being a father. I’m not sure I could ever be a good one of those.”
The look of disappointment was written all over her expression. “You break my heart.”
“I’m sorry. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
I wasn’t lying about that. As much as I was set in my ways, if there was anything I could have done to make my grandmother happy, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But this was the one area of my life where I couldn’t compromise. Not even a little.
The silence stretched between us for a few moments, and I used that time to finish off the last of my glass of iced tea. Just as I was about to find a way to turn things around and head out for the day, Gram spoke.
“You’re not him, you know?”
My body tensed. She didn’t even need to say his name for me to know who she was referring to.
“He’s my son, but he’s not the man I raised him to be. I wanted better for him. And I certainly wanted better for you.”
My throat clogged, and I nodded. “I know. It’s not your fault.”
“Your father saw two different people in his home growing up,” she went on. “Me and your grandfather. You know your pop was a nasty man. It’s why I left him. Unfortunately, I didn’t do it when I should have, and your father decided to follow in the footsteps of his father. If I could go back and change things, Hart, I’d do it?—”
“It’s not your fault,” I assured her.
“Is it not?” she countered. “My grandson, despite the horrible circumstances he endured from the time he was a baby until he was old enough to move away, has grown up to be an impeccable man. But he’s chosen to live a life devoid of any companionship because of what he witnessed. That’s my fault.”
The last thing I needed was to sit around and talk to my grandmother about my sex life, but it seemed that was going to be unavoidable. “My life isn’t devoid of companionship. I find people to spend my time with occasionally. I’m just not looking for anything serious.”
Her shoulders sagged. “I wanted so much more for you.”
“I’m happy with my life as it is.”
“What about your friends?”
Curious, my brows knit together. “My friends? What about them?”
She swept her hand out in front of her, palm up. “You’ve told me about all your coworkers who’ve been getting married and having babies these last few years. I didn’t think you’d be afraid of having the same thing.”
I loved this woman dearly. Except for my job and my coworkers, she was truly all I had in this world.
And I was content with that.
I’d learned the hard way that feeling any sort of tremendous connection to anyone was a recipe for disaster, for pain. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would willingly put themselves in a place to be vulnerable to that heartache.
“Afraid?”
Gram nodded. “You’re afraid of becoming him. You’re afraid you couldn’t possibly love someone the right way.”
She wasn’t wrong about that. My father was an awful man. “Well, it’s not like I had many examples of what it is to be a good father and husband.”
“No, you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean you don’t know what a bad one is.” She held my stare briefly, her eyes pleading with me. “You could never be him, Hart. You’re too gentle. Too loving. Too good.”
Every time we had this discussion, I was always left feeling like some big disappointment to my grandmother. Though I knew deep down how much she loved and cared about me, I hated that this always made me feel like a failure. But no matter how much I wanted to make her happy, I couldn’t bring myself to change how I lived my life.
“I think you need to do something,” I declared.
“What do you mean?”
My lips twitched. “A new hobby. You’re spending too much time worrying about what I’ve got going on in my life when you should be enjoying your own.”
She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Oh, Hart, I’m not looking to get out and do more things than I already do. I’ll be too tired.”
“That’s the point. You’ll get too tired to worry about me.”
Gram smacked me on the arm. “You’re my favorite grandchild. I’ll always worry about you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m your only grandchild, so I get that honor by default.”
“Something tells me you’d get it even if I had a hundred grandchildren.” Her expression grew solemn. “It just breaks my heart that I might not ever get great grandchildren.”
This woman did not fight fair. “What about a great grandpet? Maybe I can get a dog or something?”
“That doesn’t count.”
I chuckled and promised, “I’ll figure something out to keep you distracted. Don’t worry, Gram.”
She stood from her seat and began piling our plates into her arms. “I was afraid of that.”
I reached for the plates. “I’ll clean up. Why don’t you go inside and relax for a bit? I’ll come in and watch a show with you before I leave.”
Gram let out a heavy sigh, but she didn’t push the issue any further. She strode off toward the living room to put on a show while I cleaned up from lunch. Then I went and sat down to watch television with her.
If I was honest, my mind was slightly distracted. I hated disappointing her, so as I sat there, I wracked my brain for something that would entertain her when she was here on her own.
I’d never be able to get her what she really wanted, but at the very least, I was going to try to do something that’d bring her some joy.