As soon as I opened the door, he barreled through, barking, “Parking is hell outside.”
“Wonderful to see you too, Father. And in such a chipper mood. Happy Thanksgiving.”
He hmphed. “William, when you said you wanted to spend your time on this little project, I expected a much different result. Something sleek and modern. I thought you could convert these old apartments into condos for sale. Everything looks the same as it did when you bought it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wanted to remind him this project had nothing to do with him. Wallingford Capital wasn’t invested, and he knew full well I had the financial capacity to do whatever I wanted. I could blow my money on a cotton candy food truck or convert an old church into a paintball venue—ideas pitched to me at my last firm—and barely feel the dent in my bank account.
“Father, I already told you that one of my goals was to maintain the integrity of the building. The architect’s design kept as much of the original structure as possible, so the exterior looks the same, with some safety upgrades. But I assure you—gas, water, electrical, Wi-Fi—all the modern amenities are top-notch. Plus, we added some common areas people will love, like the rooftop garden and gym. It’s the best of new and old.”
When I purchased the building on a short sale as an investment property, I’d originally thought of tearing it down, but after taking stock of the beautiful hardwoods, crown molding, and plasterwork, I decided on an extensive remodel instead. It had been a labor of love, but I knew I’d made the right call. I was so thrilled with the results, I moved into one of the third-floor apartments myself.
“What’s the square footage on your unit?” my father asked, frown still fixed in place.
“Twelve hundred.”
“Christ. If you wanted to live in a closet, you could have moved into your bedroom back home.”
My parents continued scrutinizing my living room. I’d fallen in love at first sight with its expansive view of downtown, but they recoiled as though expecting a family of rabid raccoons to burst through the walls at any moment. I tried to be patient, my habit of appeasing them long-standing, but I couldn’t help getting annoyed.
“Alright, both of you, this is important to me. And I wanted you to see it now that it’s done because I’m really proud. But if you’re just going to dump all over it, then we can leave right now.”
My father’s lips flattened, and my mother looked over at him, laying a hand on his arm before responding, “We’re just getting used to the idea, sweetheart. You know we only want what’s best for you.”
They wanted the best for me. They just had no faith in my ability to know what that was. And while I understood the reasons for their worries, I was done allowing them to dictate the terms of my existence. Done sleepwalking through my days. My penance had cost me years of my life. Suffocated my career. Kept me from my art. Turned me into a coward with Rosalyn. And Maureen.
Dammit. Why did my mind keep going to her?Because, dummy, it’s been a year since you’ve seen her, and now you’re scared about what will happen next weekend. Especially since you’ve been watching those videos nonstop.
I walked over to my parents and slung one arm over each of their shoulders in a move meant to placate them. My specialty. “Look, I really appreciate you coming to see the building now that it’s done. Even if you’re not enthusiastic. How about we head back to your house for dinner? I bet the caterer has it set up by now. You can fill me in on which of your business contacts will be joining us.” Thanksgiving had never been much of a family holiday for my parents. It was more of a chance to network for Wallingford.
They took my words for the peace offering they were, and we headed to our separate cars. The tenants were moving in over the weekend, and having the building full of people would be nice. I’d felt awful having to buy out some leases when the remodel started, considering it took the better part of a year. But I’d offered the previous tenants the first shot at the newly remodeled apartments, and most had taken me up on it, likely because I’d agreed to do the first year of rent at the old rates. I wasn’t trying to be Robin Hood or anything, but I had enough money I could afford not to be a dick.
I straightened the wreath I’d hung on the entry door on my way out.
Almost a week later, I’d fully movedinto my new apartment. It had been a workout getting everything to the third floor. Movers had taken care of the large furniture, but I’d done the rest myself, hefting most of the boxes up the stairs rather than trying to make dozens of elevator trips. The last item I needed to bring in was a side chair I’d had since college. My grip faltered as I carried it up the steps from the second-floor landing.
Luckily, another set of hands appeared to grab it from the side above me, preventing the green velvet piece from bouncing down the stairs.
“I gotchya.” My savior walked backward as we lugged the chair to the top of the stairs, putting it down with a thud.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping an arm across my brow. “I guess I’ve gotten a little too confident in my gym routine because I honestly thought I could manage that on my own.”
“No problem.” The tall man smiled and made acome heregesture to a woman poking her head out of the nearest doorway.
“You’re Chase, right?” I asked, panting slightly with exertion. I was still getting to know all my tenants.
“Yeah. And I remember you’re Will, from when I picked up the key. This is my girlfriend, Bren. We’re here, 3C.”
“Cool. I’m in 3F.” I reached out to shake their hands. As usual, I caught the tiny flinch as they clocked my missing fingers, but they didn’t stare or make it weird. “Nice to meet you. Appreciate the help with the chair. It’s a favorite.” My breathing steadied. “I guess I better get it out of the hallway.”
I moved to pick it up when Bren stepped out in front of me. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked.
“Um…I don’t think so.” I’d felt a flicker of recognition the first time I’d met Chase, and I was experiencing the same with Bren now. But I couldn’t place either of them, so I chalked it up to the power of suggestion.
She tapped on her pursed lips as her eyes moved over me. “Hmm…I could swear.” More lip tapping. “Have you ever come into Mackenzie’s Brewery? Four blocks over. I work there.”
“No. I haven’t been much of anywhere yet. I’m still getting to know the neighborhood.”
“Well, when you start exploring, put Mackenzie’s at the top of your list,” Chase said. “The brewmaster is a wizard.”
