Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hunter
“Good morning, Hunter,” my grandmother says as I enter the kitchen.
I was quite annoyed that she didn’t let me go with her because I knew how these things went.
Not from firsthand experience, but from life.
Domestic violence is something close to my heart because I had a friend whose parents had gotten into some pretty bad situations when he was younger, and he ended up in the foster system.
He’s shared stories with me, and I know how quickly these things could escalate.
But I didn’t want to scare Gina, and I wasn’t sure if that was really my place. Especially as I knew none of the facts.
“Hey, you look tired,” my grandma says, hurrying over to me. She presses her hand to my forehead and gives me a nervous look. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, Grandma. It was just a late night. Thank you for asking.”
“No worries,” she says. “Because you know I’m—”
“I’m fine, Grandma.”
“I know. I’m just making sure that—” She stops. She knows I don’t like to talk about it.
“I’m just going to go and see Granddad. He wanted me to discuss something about the private investigator before he showed up tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she says. “Would you like some breakfast? I can have the new cook, Willa make something.”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ll be back.” I hurry out of the kitchen and head toward my grandfather’s study. I actually want to go upstairs to Gina, but I’m sure that she’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to wake her.
I knock on the door, and I’m about to enter when I hear my grandfather arguing with someone.
“Now, this is not acceptable. I’ve told you time and time again that—”
“Did Macbeth say that?” I recognize Amethyst’s voice, and I still.
“Did Macbeth say what?” my grandfather says, sounding frustrated.
“I’m starting to think you’re more like Richard III, actually,” Amethyst says. “Cruel.”
I frown at her words. What on earth are they talking about? I knock on the door and head inside. I don’t want to be invasive and spy on them.
“Hi. Morning, everyone.” They both turn to me. My grandfather’s got an annoyed expression on his face, and Amethyst looks like she’s upset. “I’m not disturbing anything, am I?”
“No, no. Amethyst was just asking for a donation to the local theater company,” my grandfather says smoothly. “She’s on the board.”
“Yes, and your grandfather says he has an interest in the arts, and I am curious, if he has such an interest, why doesn’t he support it?”
“Just because I have an interest doesn’t mean I’m going to support every single business and nonprofit out there that deals with the arts,” he says, staring at her. “There’s a reason why we have a charitable foundation. If you are in need of funds, then—”
“You haven’t changed whatsoever, have you, Preston?” Amethyst points at him. “Always looking out for number one.”
He looks over at her and shakes his head. “I take offense to that, Amethyst.”
“Yes. Well, I take offense to many things.” She sniffs. “I’m just not going to bother with this.” She heads out of the study, and I stand there awkwardly.
“How much was the donation, Granddad?”
“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head and sitting down. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Couldn’t you just donate like fifty grand? I mean, I can make a call, and we can—”
“No,” my grandfather says firmly. “We will not.” He presses his lips together. “How are you doing today, Hunter? How was the dinner? Did everyone believe the ruse?”
“It was fine, thanks.” I stare at my grandfather and notice that he’s not his normal congenial self. He’s slightly off, and I wonder if it’s because of the conversation with Amethyst. Would he really be that upset just because she was demanding a donation to a theater? Something isn’t right.
“So, you said the PI will be here in the next couple of days?”
“Tomorrow. Yes, he will.” He looks up at me.
“And I thought you said you wanted to talk.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He lets out a deep sigh and rubs his forehead. “Hunter, life is a funny thing.” He sounds philosophical, and I wonder if something has happened.
“Oh?” I ask him. “What do you mean by that?”
“One day, you’re young and in love, and everything feels like it’s within reach, and the next thing you know, you’re married and starting a family, and nothing is as you thought it would be.”
“Oh… okay.” I stare at him. “Are you upset that you married Grandma?” I lower my voice as I head over to the desk. I don’t know if I would be hurt or taken aback if he admitted that to me, but I would feel slightly sad for my grandma, who I believe truly loved him.
“No, of course not,” he says, leaning back. “I did what any man in my position would’ve done.”
“And you’re happy?”
“What is happiness?” he replies. Not the best answer.
“If you were to do it again, would you have married Grandma?”
He stares at me for a couple of seconds. “There is a famous quote,” he says, “and it goes: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it. I think it’s from “Twelfth Night,” right? By William Shakespeare. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“I grew up loving all of Shakespeare’s plays,” he says. “But for me, do you know what that means?”
“No.” I lean back.
“I was born a Waverly, and with that, comes tradition. And with tradition comes expectation. And with expectation comes duty. And with duty comes—”
“Granddad, I’m not really sure what you’re saying.”
“I’m just saying that my father and my grandfather before him had expectations for who I would be, who I would marry, and who I would become as a man. I’ve become that man, and I’m proud to be that man.” He pauses. “I don’t want that same pressure for you, though.”
“Thank you. But I’m not really sure what that means.”
“It just means that life is not black and white. There’s no path A and path B, and having to stick with either one.
Sometimes path A meanders back into path B, and path B meanders back out of path A.
And we get glimpses of what could have been or who we could have been.
We always have access to change. To be someone different.
To realize that things aren’t exactly as they should be. ”
“Granddad… is this about your life? Is this about your relationship with Grandma, or is this about—”
“It’s about all of it. How was the dinner with Gina?” He asks again, like he’s looking for an answer he hasn’t gotten yet.
“It was good. She’s a nice woman.” I’m not going to tell him I’m falling for her. Or that we made mad passionate love or that she had to rush out to save her sister. I’m not going to tell him that I got no sleep because I was worried about her safety.
“She is. Her grandfather always speaks highly of her and her work.
“I’m curious, though… if you don’t know if Grandma was actually the right choice, why are you writing this book?”
“We are Waverlys, Hunter. I want future generations to know about Preston and Enid Waverly and our love story and how we came to be.” I think about what Gina had told me and stare at him.
“But was Grandma the one? You said you saw her, and you knew. And Grandma said something to Gina that had her slightly confused.”
“What did she say?” His eyes narrow.
“She said, ‘I saw them and knew I had to have him.’”
He laughs bitterly at first, and then he can’t stop. He slams his hand down on the table, and I jump. There’s a twisted look on his face as he gazes out of the window.
“That’s my Enid,” he says. “You see? She knew what she wanted.”
“And that was you.”
“Indeed, it was.”
“And you knew what you wanted.”
He stares at me, his eyes shrewd. He knows what I’m asking.
For a few moments, I think he’s about to answer me, but there’s a knock at the door.
“Hi. Morning, Mr. Waverly.” Gina hurries in. “Oh, hi, Hunter.” She offers me a small wave and a secret smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here. Do I—should I leave?”
“No, no. Come on in,” my grandfather says, and I’m sure he’s grateful for the change in conversation.
I know better than to try and prod him to respond.
“How is everything?” I ask her.
“It’s okay.” She rubs her eyes and yawns. “Late night.”
“Gina’s sister had an incident yesterday with her husband, and she went over last night,” I explain to my grandfather.
“Oh, no,” my grandfather says, leaning forward. “I do hope that your sister is okay.”
“When I left, she seemed to be feeling better. Hopefully, her husband will get the help he needs. He checked into a rehab—at least that’s what he said he was doing. Thanks for being there for me last night, Hunter,” she says awkwardly and blushes.
I grin at her wickedly. “Anytime.”
“Well, now, shall we get to work?” my grandfather asks, and I jump up. I know this is my cue to leave.
“You guys have a great day.”
“Thanks,” Gina says.
“One moment,” my grandfather says, standing up and heading out of the room. “I’ll be right back.” Gina and I look at each other in confusion.
“What was that about?” Gina asks.
“I don’t know, but I think you were on to something last night. My grandfather was arguing with Amethyst this morning, and then he was—”
“What were they arguing about?” she interrupts.
“I guess Amethyst wanted a donation to the Whisper Cove Theater Company or something, and he didn’t want to do it.
And then he was talking about how duty has made him do a lot of things in his life.
I don’t know. I feel like maybe it wasn’t the love match they’re trying to portray. Just like you said.”
“No shit? So, what else did you get?”
“Nothing because you arrived, but that’s okay because I was hoping I would see you this morning.”
I grab her hand and squeeze.
“It’s good to see you, too.” She smiles.
“Last night was amazing.”
“It really was.”
“Can I take you on a picnic later?”
“I suppose so. Can I ask you a quick question, Hunter? Something that’s really been bothering me.”
“Of course.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend, right?” I suddenly still at her words.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“I mean, I know the paparazzi and everything is after you, and you had this celebration the other day, and there’s talk that you were going to get engaged.
I don’t need to know if you’re engaged. I don’t need to know anything about your personal life other than—are you in a relationship?
Because it’s going to make me feel really icky if I slept with you and—”
“I told you before. There’s no one who would be upset.”
“I don’t know what that means, Hunter.” She looks aggravated, and I let out a low sigh.
“I’m sorry. Of course, you would wonder. Look, I’m single.”
“Really?” Her eyes look taken aback. “You’re not like in another fake relationship or anything?”
“No.” I laugh. “Why would I be in two fake relationships?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, so you’re single. And you're not engaged.”
“Not engaged.
“You’re not married. Even if it’s not for real reasons.”
“I’m not married, and I don’t know why I would be married for fake reasons.”
“So that wasn’t the celebration the other night.”
“We made love last night, Gina. I would hope that you would know that I was not celebrating an engagement and then sleeping with you.”
“I mean… I did know that in my heart.” She pauses. “And I know you probably don’t want to answer this, but why are you in town? Is it like a business deal?”
“You’re right. I don’t want to answer it. At least not now,” I say. “I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”
“Not really, but I guess.” She runs her fingers through her long, dark hair. She looks so pretty, but she still looks sleepy. “I suppose we will talk on the picnic later. And we can try and do some more investigating.”
“I guess you never knew you’d be a detective and a writer.”
“I didn’t know either.” She makes a face. “But I’ve only known myself for twenty-five years.”
“You were a killer secret agent,” I say, laughing. “I’m sure they’d love to sign you up right now.”
“Very funny,” she says. I can’t resist leaning forward and kissing her before I hear footsteps and pull back quickly. She looks at my lips. “I’ll go on the picnic with you later.”
“I look forward to it.” I step away from her as my grandfather reenters the room. “Have a good meeting,” I say, and hurry out. Something is not adding up. Actually, many things are not adding up.
But I know with Gina’s help, we’ll get to the bottom of it. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll also confide my secret to her. Because I know she’s someone I can trust. And I can feel myself falling for her.
I can feel that whatever’s between us is real. And that’s something I’ve never felt before.