1. Knox
P apers that were neatly stacked on my desk just this morning are now strewn across the floor and chair in the corner of my home office.
I’m tying my tie with my phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear while also making sure all crucial documents make it into my briefcase.
Somewhere between making Hazel breakfast and going to pack her day bag, my sweet, almost- three-year-old decided to throw the curated files I needed for my case this morning—everywhere.
That paired with the phone conversation I’m having is making my jaw sore from how tight I’m clenching it.
“No,” I say out loud, tapping the speaker on my phone, and setting it down to adjust the loop around my neck under my collar.
“Pleeease,” the small voice whines.
I rub at my temple. “Like I told Florence earlier—no.”
“Knox. There’s nowhere else I can think to put her, and it won’t be forever!
Just until we can get the plumbing fixed,” my baby brother’s fiancée rambles from the far side of my desk where I have my phone sitting.
Win’s been like a sister to me since I’ve known her, which means she annoys me just as much as Florence.
“You don’t even know her, Winnie, and you’re asking me to let her stay at my house?” I ask incredulously, hoping she sees the problem.
“It’s not like she would actually be at your house, Knox.
Just down the road.” Only a half mile. “Out of the way. And I kind of know her! I like her. She was great on the phone. You probably won’t even notice she’s there,” she tells me.
I huff, not believing that for a second.
“Come on. Just a small favor for your soon-to-be-sister.” I can almost hear the fluttering lashes on the other end.
“You know I like my privacy, Win. I don’t want someone coming in and out all the time, and I have Hazel to think about.” The line goes quiet. “Win? Are you still there?” I ask.
“I’m here. Sorry, I’m just thinking…I’ll try and come up with something. I’m sure everything will work out.” She throws every ounce of guilt trip she can muster at me.
I sigh—in annoyance and defeat —tipping my head back. “It’s not ready for someone to live there,” I relent, and squealing fills the room.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret it!”
I scrub a hand down my face. “I already do. First sign of trouble, and she’s out of there, Winnie. I mean it.”
“Oh my gosh, will you stop? There isn’t going to be any trouble, old man.
She isn’t some criminal I picked up fresh from the slammer.
If your memory wasn’t so bad, you’d remember I did do a basic background check on her—no priors to speak of.
” Yeah, the one I suggested. “Indiana Holmes, twenty-seven, college graduate, glowing references?—”
“I get it, Win.”
“Anyway, Lo has a room for her tonight, so I’ll drive over with her tomorrow, and we’ll get the place all ready. You don’t need to do anything other than be there so I can introduce you.”
“Is that necessary?” I ask.
“She’s new here, Knox. Just be nice,” she sighs.
“Nice? I’m giving her a place to stay.” Unwillingly. “I think that’s nice enough.”
“You don’t fool me. I know you’re a marshmallow somewhere deep inside…really, really deep down,” she mumbles the last bit.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep thinking what you want. It’s okay to be wrong, just don’t come crying to me if she robs you blind.”
She laughs softly. “Thank you. Really. I need this to work out, especially with the wedding coming up. I’m going to need her help, and she can’t help if she doesn’t have somewhere to live.”
I grunt in response, and she giggles.
“Love you. Kiss Hazey for me.” The mention of her affection for my daughter softens me a little.
“I will.”
“Tell her sleepover soon!”
“Bye, Winnie.”
“Bye! See you tomorrow!” I tap my phone and run a hand through my hair.
I know this isn’t a good idea, but now I’ve already agreed, creating unnecessary work for myself.
No one’s been in the guesthouse since the fall camping trip.
I haven’t even bothered to look at it all winter.
I’ll need to make sure the thermostat and water are working before Winnie brings her new manager over tomorrow.
Indiana. She sounds like a character—literally.
Sighing, I turn my attention back to more pressing matters. Like getting me and my daughter out the door so I’m not late for this meeting.
“Hazey!” I call for my tiny tornado. “Have you finished your breakfast?”
“No!” she shouts back to me, then starts giggling like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever told me.
Sounds about right. I take a calming breath, trying not to let the fact that my alarm didn’t go off this morning, due to a random power surge, interfere with how I interact with her.
My frustration is not on her little shoulders.
“Well, we may have to take it to go because I need to drop you off at Grammy and Grandpa’s house this morning.” Because time is not on our side .
“Okay, Daddy!” she happily agrees. Hazel Holloway is my personal ray of sunshine.
No matter life’s inconveniences, her love will always be my guidepost. Getting spoiled by my entire family—with or without my permission—would make a better case for her being a bit of a brat, but she’s always had this sweet nature about her.
I smile thinking about my siblings and their friendly competition to earn the title of Hazel’s favorite.
An ice cream cone here, a stuffed animal bigger than her there.
Grabbing the last document I need and walking from my office, I pass Hazel holding a blueberry pancake in one hand and a doll in the other, singing.
I look from her little hands to the messy, soft, brown waves sticking out from on top of her head.
An errant thought, one that I try to keep hidden even from myself, pops into my head.
It would be nice to have someone else here.
“Looks like Grandma will get to do your hair at her house today, dragonfly.”
“Okay!” she answers me, dancing slightly in her highchair.
“Let’s get you out to the truck,” I tell her, lifting her from the chair and grabbing her day bag beside my briefcase on the way out the front door.
After setting Haze into her car seat, I get in my old truck, setting my things in the passenger seat before pulling away from our house on the lake.
There’s still mist from the morning rising off it, catching the cresting sun's glow.
The meadow between our place and the guesthouse is starting to sprout the wildflowers Hazel and I sprinkled last summer, bringing some color to the valley.
My brothers and I stumbled across this place looking for a spot to fish when I was a junior in high school.
It sat vacant for years until I moved back home.
The big house was bare bones, not having been taken care of over the years, and even those had to be replaced before renovations could start.
The small guesthouse that sits just under a half mile down the road disappears in the rearview.
Taunting me with the realization that someone will be living there by tomorrow.
It’s been just the two of us out here for over two years now.
Glancing back at Hazel in the rearview, I see her holding up her half-eaten pancake.
It’s hard to believe she’ll be three soon.
Could it really have been that long? When I answered that call years ago, it flipped all the carefully laid plans I had for my life upside down.
Hearing those two words. Two words that were only the beginning of my life changing. Changing plans, changing jobs, and ultimately changing my address.
Now I have new plans—all revolving around the little girl singing and munching happily on a blueberry pancake in the backseat.
I turn the radio up slightly, and she starts singing louder with Shania.
I grin, knowing she has no clue what “No One Needs To Know” is about, but damn, she’s got a set of pipes.
After kissing Hazel’s chubby cheek goodbye, I take off down my parents’ driveway, heading into my office in town.
I enjoy my job as a small-town lawyer, working small-town cases. It feels more fulfilling knowing the people I’m working for are deserving of the help I can provide them. It was an adjustment, but one I’m grateful I’ve been able to make. Smaller office, but you can’t beat the mountain view.
Looking at those mountains that I never tire of, I pull onto the side street that backs up to the office building, seeing the familiar words Holloway Family Law Offices etched into the frosted glass on the door.
Wishing I had time to get a coffee but knowing I only have fifteen minutes, I get out of my truck.
Forgoing the caffeine, I’m ready to get my day back on track when I see the blue SUV parked across from the office, letting me know my secretary is already here.
Not having a very strenuous workload, she only works part-time for me and another office in the next town over. She’s a nice woman—a bit forward every time I’ve seen her around town—but she’s always kept it professional in the office.
She’s pretty enough— and she knows it ; funny, smart, and at one time I thought about the possibility of us going out—but then I overheard her on the phone telling someone she can’t stand kids. I haven’t entertained the idea of her again .
“Good morning, Knox. How was your weekend?”
“Morning, Cora. It was fine,” I tell her, walking down the hall to my office. I find it best to keep my answers short and not to ask her any questions. Last time I made that mistake, I was held hostage by her long-winded answer.
“Would you like a coffee this morning?” she asks, coming to stand in front of me, blocking my escape. As much as I don’t want to, I find myself taking her up on the offer, hoping it will keep her busy.
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“Of course. I was thinking of staying in town tonight. Are you gonna be around?” She looks up at me from under long, dark lashes, biting the side of her red bottom lip. Cora is a beauty, but I’m not interested in starting something with her.
“I have a few things to take care of back home tonight. Winnie and my sister have roped me into something. Sorry,” I tell her.
“That’s too bad.” She pouts. “I’ll just have to be patient,” she adds wistfully. I give her a tight smile, unsure of what response I could give her that wouldn’t be rude. Cora and I don't have a future as anything beyond friends.
Once I make it to my office, I open my briefcase and pull out the case files. Putting my glasses on to look them over once more, I can’t help thinking about how much has changed in my job.
The type of services I provide now is a stark contrast to what I was doing those years I spent in the city. Instead of corporate clients, I mostly deal with property lines. Everybody believes somebody is trying to encroach on their land.
Today is a little different. Ms. June Carter passed away last week, leaving her property, its contents, and all her holdings to the Sorel family.
The Sorels had been taking care of her and her properties for her the last six years.
No one in town batted an eye when this came out.
It seemed only natural. The Sorels had come to live on Ms. June's property and seeing as she hadn’t had a visit from any actual relatives in ten-plus years, they were more than just caretakers. Ms. June saw them as her family.
“Here’s your coffee, Knox. Black right?” she asks.
“Appreciate it, Cora.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else,” she tells me, smiling as she backs out of my office. I don’t miss her emphasis on anything . It was about as subtle as Hazel is when she’s asking for dessert before dinner.
Opening my laptop, it’s still on the last web page I was on, looking up Ms. June’s nephew’s lawyer.
The law firm representing him is a larger one based out of New York.
I’m a little surprised he was able to secure their representation, seeing as they mostly work with high-profile clients who come with high-profile cases, but I have no doubt he knows someone who knows someone.
At the sound of the building's front door opening, I set my cup down before standing.
“Good morning. How can I help you?” I hear Cora say.
“I’m here to meet with Knox Holloway.” I hear a man’s voice tell her.
“Is he expecting you, Mr.…?” Cora’s voice remains polite.
“Carter. Yes, he should be expecting me.”
“Oh yes, I see your name here on his schedule.” He’s my only meeting today, but I do appreciate Cora’s professionalism. “Let me walk you to his office.”
I hear footsteps coming toward me, and then Cora pops her head around the corner. “There’s a Mr. Carter here to see you,” she announces, then she looks back to the front. “And it looks like another member of your party has just arrived as well.”
“Thanks, Cora. You can send him back.” I tell her. She smiles and heads back to the front.
A man comes into view. His chin is tipped slightly in the air and there’s an overly cordial expression on his face. I give him a tight smile, holding out my hand to him.
“Hello. Knox Holloway,” I introduce myself as another man with a suit walks in behind him, his lawyer, I presume.
“Kirk Carter .” He emphasizes the last name. I suppose he wants me to know that he shares it with Ms. June. It does nothing to convince me he’s deserving of anything of hers. Deserving and last names rarely have anything to do with each other.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter.”
“Alex Shepherd. I’ll be representing Mr. Carter.” The other man speaks up, holding his hand out.
I take it, shaking it as I speak. “Hopefully, we can get this resolved soon, and everyone can be on their way.”
“Yes, there seems to be a problem with my client’s late aunt's will. I’m sure once you take a better look at the facts, you’ll be able to steer your client in the right direction.” His words are dripping with condescension.
“I suppose we’ll just have to look at all the facts to come to the right conclusion, won’t we?” I challenge. His expression is mildly annoyed. Me too, asshole.