4
Henry rubbed his chest where the sharp pain had awakened him.
The panic attacks had been rare enough up to this point that he avoided taking the anxiety medication that had been prescribed
to him. He loathed the side effects and found that if he managed his stress levels and caffeine intake, it helped keep them
at bay. But this was the third one he’d had this summer.
Why now? There was nothing stressing him out more than usual. Work was . . . work. But he was making moves. In Henry’s mind,
that was a good thing. And, well, there wasn’t anything else happening in Henry’s life other than that. He couldn’t figure
out what could possibly be triggering this. And this, apparently, made the pain even worse.
The doctor assured him that he wasn’t having a heart attack.
But it always felt like one. Henry actually wished it was one because at least he could get something for the pain.
A panic attack? Opioids actually increased the anxiety.
So the only hope was that he could calm himself down and wait for the pain to subside.
Henry was not the type to be calm, at least not on the inside.
As the waves of pain increased, he curled up into a fetal position on his bed trying to breathe through them. It never worked.
It was, unfortunately, just a waiting game. And after what felt like hours but was likely mere minutes, the piercing had subsided.
He got up and shakily walked to his kitchen to get a glass of water.
Henry looked down at his phone on his kitchen counter. He always had his phone within arm’s length. Had he forgotten to bring
it to bed with him? On the screen was a Missed Call notification and a voice mail. A work emergency. They were the only ones
that would call him. Unless . . .
The screen read Dennis. His grandfather. Shit. He didn’t often call in the evenings, and though he was three hours behind, by the time Henry had
gone to bed, it would have been late for his granddad.
Henry’s heart rate quickened as he fumbled to check the message.
“Hey, Hank, it’s your gramps. How you doing, kiddo? I miss you. It’s been too long. Anywho, not a big thing, but . . . well,
I think I might’ve gotten myself in a pickle. I’m selling the house and just get a weird feeling about the real estate guy.
Gimme a call when you get a chance. Tomorrow’s fine. I just drank my warm milk and will be asleep in a few. Love you, kiddo.”
Okay, at least it wasn’t a health emergency. Henry’s worst nightmare.
Since when was his grandfather selling his house?
Henry tried to remember if he’d mentioned anything the last time they’d spoken.
When was that? Henry had called him to wish him a happy birthday in .
. . March. Fuck, it was June already. He tried to check in at least every couple weeks.
But he’d been so focused on work lately, he’d let it slide.
Just long enough for Dennis to get into some trouble.
His granddad, Dennis, had a home in Palm Springs, and Henry had spent summers there as a kid. More like he’d been dumped there
as his only option for a roof over his head and some adult supervision. But his granddad never made him feel like a burden.
He loved over him as much as Henry would allow. In any case, it had been a couple years since he’d visited out there. Even
then, the house had shown its age.
But more striking to Henry was how many of the old neighbors seemed to have moved out of the area, selling their homes and
letting builders come in, the newer, hipper, more gentrified part of Palm Springs creeping up on their once sleepy, residential
street.
Dennis had mentioned possibly wanting to move away from the hustle and bustle of the downtown area, up a few blocks north
to the retirement community of Sunset Hills. Henry thought it could be a great idea. Be around more people his age and with
the various levels of support the HOA costs provided, it would put Henry’s mind at ease a bit, being all the way on the other
side of the country and all.
But he hadn’t realized that Dennis had made the move to do it so soon. And the voice mail was not what Henry wanted to hear.
He’d get the realtor’s number, put on his official lawyer voice, and make sure no one took advantage of his granddad.
Henry rubbed his chest where the pain from the earlier panic attack was focused.
He was supposed to be managing his stress levels.
Work brought enough anxiety into his life.
He wasn’t expecting family stuff to pile onto it all.
Maybe he’d need to start taking the meds, along with the brutal side effects, more regularly after all.
“Granddad? Hi, how’s it going? I got your voice mail,” he said loudly and as clearly as possible so his granddad could actually
hear him.
“Hi, Hank. Thanks for calling me back. Everything good out there in the big city?”
Henry smiled. His granddad was the only one he’d let call him Hank. Like he could stop him. He’d asked him many times to . . .
not. But he was a stubborn old man. And the only family Henry had. That he cared about, at least. In fact, Dennis was the
only person other than himself that Henry paid any mind to period.
“Yeah, all’s good. Why didn’t you tell me you were selling the house?” he asked.
“I thought I did. Maybe I forgot. You know I don’t like bothering you if I don’t have to. You’re too important to be pestered
by an old man.”
“You aren’t a bother. And I’m sorry I haven’t checked in in awhile. But it’s important you keep me updated when stuff like
this comes up.” Henry felt like he was reprimanding a toddler.
“And that’s why I called. You see, there’s a nice little home down at Sunset Hills, remember the old folks community I told
you about? And I wanted to put an offer on it. So the guy selling it said he’d work with me to sell my home too. Some kind
of trade or something.”
Henry did not like the sound of this. He wasn’t an expert in real estate law, but he didn’t like someone with competing interests trying to take advantage of his grandfather.
How would Dennis even know what kind of offer to make on a house?
He was exactly the type of trusting person that would get swindled.
Henry had witnessed this firsthand when he’d found out his granddad had given a huge part of his retirement away to grifters, otherwise known as his parents.
“Granddad, how far have you gotten in the process with this guy?”
“Well, I didn’t sign anything. You taught me better than that,” he said, laughing.
“That’s good to hear,” Henry said. “So can you tell me exactly what the agent told you?” He’d need to try to pull as much
info out of his granddad as he could to get the lay of the land. This was not going to be easy.
“Well, you see, it’s like this. This guy is real slick, ya know? He’s the one that’s been going around trying to convince
everyone in the neighborhood to sell. And I guess my and the Billingses’ houses are the last ones standing.”
“Wait, I thought it was the nice lady from your church, Mrs. Hobbs, that wanted to help you sell your house once you were
interested.” Henry had had his doubts about this woman and her abilities, but at the very least, he knew she wouldn’t try
to screw his granddad over. He just wasn’t confident she could get him top dollar for his home. Sure, it was outdated and
needed major upgrading and renovations. But it had strong bones and even stronger memories. And the land itself was what was
valuable.
“Some other guy at her office stepped in. Like I said, slick. Not even one hair out of place, and I have never once seen him
sweat, not even when it was up in the one teens last week.”
Jesus, just the thought of hundred-and-ten-plus-degree weather had Henry feeling the heat. And Henry knew the slick type.
Heck, some might say he was the type.
“And is he pressuring you to do whatever he wants?”
“Yeah, that’s what it feels like. I wanted to see if the price to buy the house was fair. And also the price he was talking
about for my home seemed kinda low. I was gonna do some poking around on the Zillow. But he’s saying we gotta act fast or
prices and some kind of rates will fluctuate. I didn’t understand everything he was saying. It was stuff they don’t even talk
about on HGTV,” he said.
“Yeah, I bet it was confusing. I don’t even know all of that stuff,” Henry said.
“I mean, I know I’m ready to make the move. I just want to make sure it’s on the up-and-up. Plus, I wanna talk to the Billings
family and see how they feel about being the only ones left of the old neighborhood. They might get lonely.”
Lonely, sure. But more likely they’d get the pressure put on them to sell and give up the land as the last remaining original
resident.
“Anyways, Hank, you know I don’t know about all that smart-guy stuff.”
It was bullshit, and they both knew it. His grandfather was sharp as a knife, despite his hearing and his mobility deteriorating.
It was more likely his granddad wanted—
“So I thought if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come out here and help me work through all of this. Just wanna get
myself a nice little home at The Sunset and sell my house for enough to live on until I kick the bucket. Oh, and you can help
me move all this stuff to the new place. You haven’t been out this way in years.”
There it was. His granddad would use any excuse to try to get Henry out to the desert to visit him.
And it was happening less and less frequently as he got busier at work.
The pangs of guilt began to creep up into his chest. He let out a sigh while opening his laptop and signing in to take a look at his calendar.
It wasn’t a bad time to go. Summers were slow at work and in the city as a whole. But Henry was not a take-time-off kind of
guy. Still, now that he had the two junior attorneys working for him, he could leave for a week or two or just check in remotely
as needed. All the other executives were gone for the summer; he could sneak away for a few. Not that he was an executive . . .
yet. But it was coming.
Shit, maybe he shouldn’t go.
This was the problem with having responsibilities for anyone other than yourself. Demands on your time, along with priorities
for your attention got muddier.
But the desert always helped Henry relax for some reason. Henry rubbed his chest and then reached up to massage the crick
out of his shoulder. It could be good to get away.
“Okay, let me check my schedule. I can probably sneak in a few days, maybe a week . . .”
“See if you can ask for two. By the time you fly out here a whole day will be lost, same as when you go back. You’ll need
at least two weeks, Hank. I got a lot of stuff to move.”
Greedy ol’ man. Henry smiled at his lack of subtlety.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do. It is kinda slow around here. I’ll let you know. And Granddad, don’t take any calls from the
slick guy until you hear from me tomorrow. I’ll be the one talking to this guy from now on.”
“Sir, yes sir,” his grandpa said as he always did when Henry tried to tell him what to do. “I knew my successful lawyer grandson
would come to the rescue.”
Henry let out a huff. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it, Hank.”
Henry looked down at his calendar as he hung up the call.
A few recurring meetings that he could move around.
Everyone else’s calendars blocked off for the Hamptons likely.
Henry had overheard Bakerson telling Wainwright and Sword to steer clear for a few weeks.
It was an odd thing to say. He’d really hoped it had nothing to do with the recent employee terminations.
He shook his head. Nope, not his business. He did as he was told, and he made sure it was on the up-and-up.
Henry shot off a quick email to his boss knowing he’d get the Out of Office message. And then he emailed his team asking for
quick updates on their projects. If he was going to get out of town, he’d need to make sure everything was in place for him
to do so. If nothing else, he’d be reachable remotely at any time.
They were competent and capable. Things should be fine.
Guess he was heading out west to the desert. It was like a string tied in the tightest bow was yanked and suddenly unraveled.
Henry felt like he could finally breathe. So he did.
He took a deep breath, let it out, and opened up the weather app on his phone to see exactly how hot it would be.