Chapter Twenty-Six. Conveyance
Chapter Twenty-Six
CONVEYANCE
Six minutes after midnight, Cam was still awake.
Despite the very long day, she couldn’t turn her brain off, let alone fall asleep.
She toyed with making a cup of decaf tea, until she remembered the special gummies stuffed away in Danny’s snack cabinet.
She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a container of CBD peach rings, hoping the relaxant would lull her to sleep.
But as she chewed atop one of the barstools, she noticed the shadowy figure on the sofa. “Danny? It’s after midnight. What are you doing up?”
He didn’t flinch, meaning she hadn’t surprised him. His attention shifted from her to the armchair where Reggie snoozed on his back, legs in the air. “I didn’t realize it was so late,” he said. His voice was low, and rough, like he’d been crying.
“Danny…” She entered the living room, peach rings in hand. “What’s wrong?”
“You had a rough day, Cam.” He stretched his legs across the cushions. “Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep. You need it.”
“No. You’re upset and I’m not leaving when you’re upset.” She marched to the sofa and nudged at his legs. Wordlessly, he moved them, and she sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
He closed his eyes and nodded slowly, like he was charging up the will to respond.
“Our conversation earlier got me thinking about how fucking hard it is being young. And we’re conditioned to believe it’ll get better as we get older but …
what if we don’t get older? That’s not a privilege everyone gets.
” He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, his lips curled.
“This September will be four years since Uncle Beau died. He didn’t make it to his golden years. ”
Muscle memory had his hand in hers before she realized what she was doing.
Squeezing her hand, he said, “I’m mad nobody told me until the very end.
I was staying at a hostel in Chiang Mai, and I remember my dad calling me out of the blue.
He said, Beau’s in the hospital. He’s sick, and I said, Can I talk to him?
Tell him to get better soon? and Dad said, He’s not going to get better. Three days later, he was dead.”
Exhaling, he interlocked their fingers. “I should be happy our last time together ended with a see you soon instead of a goodbye. But I’m not.
I’m angry I didn’t get my goodbye with him.
He impacted my life more than he’ll ever know, and the only thing he had to show for it were some fucking postcards I sent him. ”
“He knew,” she promised. “You told me he kept those postcards. That he replied to them with letters. Clearly, they meant a lot to him because you meant a lot to him.”
“Yeah.” He gazed out the window, messy strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.
“But earlier, you asked what I’d be doing if not for Beau’s, and the truth is, I can’t think about that hypothetical without getting sick to my stomach.
Because the only reason I’m happy, the only reason I’m right here, right now, is because a disease cut my uncle’s life short. ”
She squeezed his hand again, rubbing circles into the heated skin with her thumb. “Danny…”
“If it weren’t for him, who knows what I’d be doing. Where I’d live. Who I’d be.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It makes me physically ill that my happiness is tied to his absence. That it took his last breath for me to start living to my full fucking potential.”
“You don’t get to punish yourself with those thoughts,” she said.
“It’s not fair he died with so much of his life left.
But he left Beau’s to you for a reason. The same reason he paid for your college and for your travel and treated you like the son he didn’t have.
He loved you, and if you want to thank him, then all you need to do is be happy. ”
With a shaky breath, he pulled her into a hug. Holding her tight, he whispered, “We waste so much of our lives worrying about what we’re doing next and sometimes, one biopsy makes the decision for you.”
She dropped her head to his shoulder. “He’d be so proud of you and how Beau’s is thriving under your leadership.”
“You think so?”
“He wouldn’t have left it to you if he didn’t think you’d do something amazing with it.
Most people would’ve sold it or been absentee owners at best. But not you.
You’re there all the time. You charm customers, you excite tourists, you’re doing everything you can to make sure your employees have health insurance and benefits.
Think of how exciting it’ll be when the T-shirts are ready.
People will go about their lives wearing proof of your leadership and how much you care about your staff.
You’re special, Danny. I can say from experience that most bosses aren’t like that. ”
“Thank you, Cam. I just … wish we could’ve done it together.
” His hand moved to her back, a gentle, steadying touch.
“I had a couple high school friends come visit a few months after I took over Beau’s and one of them said, I’m sorry about your uncle, but you’re so lucky you inherited all this.
He didn’t mean anything by it, but … it’s always stuck with me, because I know that’s what people think.
That I’m lucky. I don’t feel lucky. I feel guilty because I think about everything Beau had planned and didn’t get to do.
He spent his entire life working and building something he was proud of.
The fun, the lifetime fantasies … those were supposed to come after. But there is no after.
“He loved boats, but he was so picky that he never bought one. He used to talk about how when he retired, he’d finally pick one out and sail the world.
He loved the Red Sox, and he always promised the next time they made the World Series, we’d go and have a couple of Fenway Franks on the Green Monster.
And he loved beer, so he’d always joke that eventually he’d get himself to Oktoberfest for a stein as big as his head. ”
He wiped his tears. “Beau is why I got into homebrewing. When I first got here, his office was a mess. File cabinets filled with thirty-year-old paperwork, Red Sox programs dating back to Dustin Pedroia’s rookie season …
It was a nightmare. But he had this clean corner carved out with an index card taped to the wall.
It had my great-great-great-grandfather’s recipe, straight from Ireland.
Beau had printed articles on the licenses he’d need, on what equipment he’d buy to start brewing.
” He laughed. “He also had a stack of very overdue library books on his desk, all about craft beer, except my favorite, Starting a Business for Dummies, even though he ran one of the most profitable restaurants in the area.
“I’m not ready to go commercial like he might’ve been but … I feel connected to him when I’m in the shed. Every minute, every sip, hell, every smell … It makes me think of him, and then I don’t feel like he’s really gone.”
“Because he’s not. He’s still with you.” She tapped his chest. “In here. He’s not going anywhere.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you. Now, what are you doing up? Are you feeling okay?”
“I just couldn’t sleep.” She held up the container of peach rings. “But I think these will help.”
Danny ate a gummy. “Stay home and relax tomorrow. You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. This summer is about fixing burnout, not making it worse.”
“I’m fine, really. I like working at Beau’s. It’s fun. Reminds me of playing Diner Dash.”
“Whatever motivates you,” he teased.
“In middle school, my Sims always opened businesses and ran restaurants. That, plus Diner Dash, plus Cooking Mama … maybe I’m meant to be here.”
He ate another gummy, laughing. “Apparently, you were training for culinary school, while I drowned my Sims in swimming pools.”
She gasped. “I didn’t expect that behavior from you!”
“I had to get the angst out somehow.” He grinned, his dimples making a return. As she stood, preparing to return to bed, he said, “Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“You are meant to be here. I’m glad you’re gonna stay in Elswick.”
“I said I was considering it,” she corrected gently.
“Okay. Keep considering it.” He leaned towards her, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “But I’ll convince you. I’ve got plenty of time.”
Shaking her head, she took a step backwards, ignoring how her cheeks burned. “Is that confidence? Arrogance?”
“Call it hope.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whispered, “Good night, Danny.”
“Good night, Cam.”