“Can he do that?”
“Sure. It went through the courts to see if he had a legitimate claim. Papa told the judge all about me cutting contact with Grand-mère and Grand-père for thirteen years. Claimed there was a more recent will reverting back to him. But he couldn’t produce any such will, couldn’t come up with a lawyer who’d drawn one up. After two years of delays, a judge ruled the existing will was valid, and their property came to me. By then, I’d calmed down a bit.”
“Hate to tell you, dude, but smashing a mirror with a table isn’t calm.”
“Well, no.” I rubbed my face. “Coming in here was harder than I thought. We used to work here on weekends. The vineyard’s off the beaten track for tours, so they built this place right along the highway to catch the tourists. Wine tasting, a contract with a local caterer for a great food-tasting menu alongside. Good business.”
“Not much for a kid to do.” Shane was watching my face.
“More than you’d think. I couldn’t touch the wine, of course. But it was a family business. Labor laws don’t apply. I carried trays of empty glasses and charmed the guests with my knowledge, all parroted off what Grand-père taught me to say. And if I got something wrong, or wasn’t charming enough, or dropped a glass, there were toilets to scrub and floors to mop and tiles to polish and trash to take out and if the bag was heavy and I dropped it and it broke, and there was a mess, I could get down on my knees and?—”
“Hey, hey, Theo.” I was so deep in my head I hadn’t noticed Shane get up, but he clasped my arms and rocked me back and forth. “It’s okay. You own all the glasses now. You can smash the lot. I’ll help.”
From her bed, the dog whined softly, gazing at us.
I blinked, pulled out of my downward spiral. Shane stood close, taller than me, solid despite his thin frame. Without thinking, I pressed my forehead to his shoulder and leaned into his hold. “Thanks,” I gulped against his sweatshirt. “I mean it. Thanks.”
“Outlive the bastards and dance on their grave. Valid life strategy.”
I choked. “My strategy was to never have anything to do with them again. I was shocked when their lawyer contacted me.”
“And now you have even better revenge. You can give away their precious shit to needy folk. Like the vineyard guy. Or Arthur.” Shane eased back so we could look at each other, though he didn’t let go of my arms and I was glad of the anchor. “Were you serious about that?”
“Absolutely.” I pulled in a slow breath. “Grand-mère thought pets were a nuisance and dirty. I love that a pregnant mutt is sleeping in their precious showroom.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
That took me a second, but then I laughed for real. “Or a mutt. But you’re taking care of Foxy, and I want to help. I want to see Arthur less stressed, too.”
“He was upset when he had to say he had no room for Foxy.”
“I bet.” I barely knew Arthur and already I could imagine his big, soft heart breaking at turning her away.
“That’s why I volunteered to take her.” Shane looked around the bathroom. “I’d totally help turn this into an animal shelter.”
“It could work out, I think—” I paused at a demanding meow from behind the closed door.
Shane chuckled. “I’ll let her in. Luckily, Foxy seems willing to let Mimsy be the boss of her.” He pulled open the door.
The dog looked up from her chew as Mimsy pranced inside. Foxy didn’t move, didn’t get up, as the cat stalked over to her, gave the bone a paw-pat, and then curled up on an unused part of the wide bed.
“Mimsy’s not scared, is she?”
“Not one little bit. Although once Foxy has puppies, I’ll be more careful about separating them. Some mamas are very protective of their babies.”
That simple statement shouldn’t have been the last straw, but I thought of my mom, hugging and whispering to me that she’d love me forever, and loss ripped through me. I whirled, my shoulders heaving, gulping for air.
Warm arms came around me. “Sorry,” Shane murmured at my back. “Sorry, didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not you.” I clung to his arms where they crossed my chest. “It’s this f-fucking place.”
“You could still take a bulldozer to it. Build new.”
“That w-would be much more expensive.” My breathing began settling. “This has guest bathrooms, a kitchen, all kinds of useful things. And the first time a dog takes a dump on Grand-mère’s marble tiles, I can cheer.”
“Good thought.” He slowly eased out of the hug and I let him go, even though I missed the human warmth of it.
Without turning, I asked, “Can we still be friends?”
