38. Sebastian
THIRTY-EIGHT
SEBASTIAN
I woke up before the sun. Blanketed in darkness, I swung my legs off the side of my hotel bed and dragged in a breath, wondering if my aching muscles were a sign that I had started down the wrong path.
But I’d chosen this path, and I couldn’t see an alternative. Rex might’ve said I had a choice, but what kind of choice was it? Either way, Charlie hated me. I might as well get something out of my time in New Elwood.
After a shower and a coffee, I slipped on my work boots and prepared myself for the day. My thoughts were quiet, which was a relief after a turbulent few weeks. After today, it would all be over. I’d be able to move on and put New Elwood in my rearview mirror.
But when I headed downstairs, I saw a familiar face in the hotel lobby. I stopped. Frowned. “Mom?”
Wrapped in a multicolored shawl, my mother glanced up from her book, fatigue dragging down the bags under her eyes. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved tee, her dyed honey blond hair clipped at the back of her head. “Sebastian,” she said, standing. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. Her arms were the same comfort they’d always been, a safe harbor that would always be there for me.
I hugged her back, voice muffled in her shoulder when I asked, “What are you doing here?”
She pulled away with a sad look, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “I thought I should be here to see that place come down.” Her hand lifted to my cheek, and she stroked it with her thumb. “One last time.”
“You’re upset about it.”
Eyes flicking between my own, my mother sighed. “That place is so old now, I’m surprised it’s still standing. Probably time for something new.”
I pulled back. “But?”
“No buts,” she said. “I just didn’t like the sound of your voice yesterday.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s at home,” she said. “This was something I had to do for myself.”
I nodded.
My mother’s hand slipped around my elbow, and she towed me to one of the lobby couches. She sat beside me and patted my forearm. “I want you to tell me the truth about why you’re doing this, honey.”
“I already told you. Grandma doesn’t deserve to have her name on any building, even in a podunk town like this.”
“You’re angry.”
“You’re not?”
Her chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, and then she shrugged. “I let go of my anger a long time ago.”
Confusion whipped up storms of dust in my mind. I frowned, staring at the stack of magazines on the coffee table in front of us. “I thought you’d be happy I’m selling these places off. I thought it would make you feel good to see that old house come down. The house we couldn’t move into unless we prostrated ourselves at her feet. The house she denied us when we had nothing.”
“Destruction never makes me happy, honey.” Her voice was soft and nonjudgmental.
I gritted my teeth. “You deserve better, Mom. The inheritance should have been yours, not mine.”
“And yet she left it to you.”
“And I’m doing all I can to return it with interest!” The words burst out of me, and I inhaled sharply to calm myself down. As I combed my fingers through my hair, my mother’s hand appeared on my back.
She drew soothing circles with her palm for long moments, then said, “What do you mean by that, Sebastian?”
Our knees nudged as I angled myself toward her, dragging my gaze up to meet hers. She had grays poking through her hair. Laugh lines crinkled outward from her green eyes, and there were deep brackets on her cheeks from how hard she smiled.
She hadn’t been angry at Lydia for a long time. No one who smiled as much as my mother could carry that kind of anger.
Just like that, the rug got pulled out from under me. I met her patient, quiet gaze, and I grasped at the only thing that had made sense through this whole nightmare of a month. “Hamilton Bach approached me about buying The Bach Company. I needed capital, so I made a deal with a local winery owner. He’d buy the properties off me at a premium, as long as I got approvals from the town council for a new hotel and dealt with the demolition of Radcliffe House. Then I’d buy The Bach Company and give you and Dad shares. I want to make sure you got everything that Lydia withheld, and then some. I’m going to make this right, Mom, this wrong that happened with the fire.”
My mother’s hand slid from my back to my cheek again, and she gave me a soft, tender smile. “My sweet boy,” she said. “You’ve always wanted to take care of us.”
“I will take care of you.”
She took her hand from my cheek and grasped my hand. Holding it in both of hers, she met my gaze and, very quietly, asked, “What else happened while you were here?”
“Nothing.”
She patted my hand with one of hers and waited.
I blew out a harsh breath. “ Nothing , Mom.”
Seconds bled into each other, and I knew my mother would wait an eternity for an answer.
I closed my eyes and said, “There was a woman.”
“Ah.”
“She lived in the attic apartment. She’s the town’s historical preservation officer, and she tried to stop me. We worked together on the hotel, came up with a compromise to save the fa?ade and lobby of the Monticello. But she couldn’t do anything about the house.”
“I see. What’s her name?”
My throat tightened. It was hard to get the sounds out, but I managed to rasp, “Charlie—Charlotte—Reeves.”
“Reeves,” my mother said, surprised. “Patty and Lyle Reeves? I didn’t know they’d had a child. They always said they never wanted any.”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “She was adopted. She said they were older. They passed a while back.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
I thought of Charlie’s devastated face outside the Monticello, and a hot wash of shame went through me. “I lied to her, Mom. Lied by omission. I never told her about the deal. Never told her why I was tearing down her home.”
“She became important to you,” Mom finished.
My eyes prickled, and I leaned back on the couch and shoved my fingers into them. “Yes. But it doesn’t matter now. She hasn’t spoken to me in weeks.”
“And you’re demolishing the house.”
“The only home she ever had,” I corrected. “The place where her best memories of her parents exist. The place where she first felt safe. A house she offered to buy from me, but I refused, because it would tank the deal and my plan would fall like a house of cards.”
My mother let out a long sigh. “And you did this for me and Dad.”
“It should have been yours.” The words burst out of me. I dropped my hands to my thighs and rubbed the fabric of my pants, unable to rid myself of the itch under my skin. “The Monticello, the house, everything should have been yours. She never should have turned her back on us. She should have helped , Mom. We had nothing, and she wanted you to take all the blame for faulty wiring and a tinderbox of a house. We had nothing , and she refused to help.”
“We had each other.”
I closed my eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ll have your rightful inheritance. I’ll have my dream company. Charlie will find somewhere else to live. This is the right thing to do. It’s justice.”
The pause that followed felt heavy. Then my mom turned to me, and in that gentle, gentle voice, she said, “Your Dad and I had good jobs. We already have plenty of money set aside, Sebastian.”
“You deserve more. You deserve to get back what we lost.”
She smiled with a soft gaze. “I love you so much, my boy. So much you can’t even understand it. I love your big heart and your dedication. I love that you planned to do this for us. But I want you to hear me, okay? We don’t need shares in your company. I don’t need shares in your company. I don’t need, nor do I want, the money from your grandmother’s properties. I would have given them to you anyway. What happened between her and me hurt me deeply, but you don’t need to pay for her sins.”
My breath stuttered. I gasped and tore my gaze away from hers. “Mom?—”
“If you want to buy Hamilton Bach’s company and chase your dreams, I’m behind you, Sebastian. But these shadows in your eyes worry me. Please don’t do something for me out of duty or obligation—or bitterness toward your grandmother.” She paused for a moment, then added, voice quiet and low, “Maybe the deal with Charlie is the better one to take.”
Pain lashed at my chest and I shook my head. “It’s too late. She hates me, Mom. I messed it all up, and now there’s no fixing it.”
She patted my leg. “You’ll figure out the right thing to do. Now let’s go see the old girl before that big yellow machine I spotted out back tears her to shreds.”