“Don’t even think about coming back in here. You’re gonna miss your flight.” Gramps is posted up on the screened-in porch. His plaid button up and jeans have been his outfit of choice as long as I can remember, probably his entire life.
“Gramps.” I run a hand through my hair. “I can stay. It’s not a problem.”
“No. You can’t. I appreciate you coming. You stayed longer than you needed to already.”
I can tell he’s trying to sound stern, but a shakiness is sneaking into his gruff voice. I walk up toward him, putting my arms around his stout shoulders. I had only planned to stay a week, but I could tell Gramps needed someone. He was barely eating. I’ve been trying to get him to go for walks early in the morning before the heat hits. I politely forced him to take me to play cards with his friends. I used his competitive edge against him, saying, “I understand if you’re worried your grandson will beat you.” The last few days, some of the fog has lifted from his eyes, but I can tell his heart is still heavy.
He gives my back a hardy pat. I don’t let go. “Dad should be here.” The words roll out before I can stop them.
Gramps pulls back. “He’s a busy man.” Then with his pointer finger he taps my shoulder. “Like you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your cell phone lighting up like the Fourth of July.”
I groan. I had it on silent, but the old man is astute. I wave away his concern. “It’s nothing important.”
Truth be told, it is slightly important. It’s the clients I’ve spent the last five years pouring all my time and energy into acquiring. But, Gram's death has put life into perspective. Nothing trumps taking care of the people you love and who have loved you your whole life.
“You get going now. Don’t make me get into that car and drive you myself.” Gramps holds my shoulder and leads me to the door of the black sedan rental car in the driveway. He grabs the handle and pops it open. Obliging, I roll my suitcase to the trunk. There’s no use in arguing with Gramps. He’s a stubborn man. I guess it runs in the family.
Squeezing his shoulder, I give him the biggest smile I can. “Love you.” Then I bend down to sit in the car.
Before closing the door, he says, “Love you too, son.” Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulls out a dollar bill. “Get yourself a Coke on me.”
I chuckle. “Thanks Gramps.” He’s been giving me a dollar for Coke’s since I was six. I still remember the first time he took me to a soda machine and showed me how to use it. When the can rolled out, I yelled, “I won!” I’ve never seen Gramps laugh so hard.
I’m not gonna be the one to tell him about inflation. That dollar makes me feel like a kid, a cared about, seen kid who his grandpa loves to spoil. I don’t ever want to forget that feeling. I’m cherishing it even more in the wake of Gram’s death. I can’t bear to think about losing Gramps too.
He closes the door and I finally push the ignition. Rolling down the window, I yell, “I’ll be calling.”
With a salute, he says, “Talk soon. Have a safe flight.”
I pull into the street and head to the airport, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. I want to stay to make sure Gramps is truly okay, but I can’t neglect my clients any longer. Between grocery shopping, making meals, sorting through Gram’s stuff, letting Gramp’s grieve, and trying to gently persuade him to reconnect with the things he enjoys…I have done a poor job of replying to messages. Kayley, my assistant, has been doing her best in my absence, but I can tell even through text that she’s on the verge of a breakdown.
I feel spread so thin. Maybe my dad’s right. Maybe I’m not cut out for this business. Being an agent is a lifestyle, not a job. It’s got no set hours. I love what I do…at least I did.
In the wake of Gram’s death, signing deals and getting on bestseller lists just doesn’t seem important anymore. At the end of my life, how do I want people to remember me? As a great agent? Or, as a great friend, grandson, and maybe someday…husband and father.
Whoa. What’s happening to me? If the guys I go white water rafting with found out I was thinking this deeply, we’d have a dump truck situation on our hands. I’m picturing it now. Everyone falling out and the raft, floating down stream.
Is this what a midlife crisis feels like? I already have a sports car…How else do people deal with these, thesefeelings?
Nothing comes to mind, so I crank the AC to MAX. Maybe I’m just suffering from heat stroke. The car thermometer says it’s 101 degrees outside. Remind me never to return to Arizona in the summer, ever again. The only thing that would bring me back here is Gramps, and I’d much rather have him move closer to me, far away from the Arizona oven.
My GPS lurches me into the present as it tells me to take the airport exit. It feels like there’s a cactus on my chest. I look down to make sure, despite the absurdity. There’s of course, nothing there—which is even more alarming. The prickly tightness is coming from inside of me as I think about returning to my life as a literary agent. I try to swallow it down, reminding myself that this is the life I’ve always wanted: the money, the acclaim, the women, and the rising fame.
I love my life, I remind myself again.
Pulling my shoulders back, I rest one hand on the steering wheel. My life is great. I just need to get back to it and remember why.
Chapter 3
Chloe
Whoknewthatwhenyou quit a job, it is exactly like the movies? I’m standing in my office with my little box in hand. It’s filled with a picture frame of me and my college roommates, my manuscript I need to burn, my candy dish and a few going away presents in the form of Starbucks gift cards. At least my coworkers knew what I liked.
Inhaling, I take one last glance at my shiny, private office with its gray U-shaped desk and floor-to-ceiling windows. I’ll miss my front row big screen where I could people watch. Oh, and I’ll also miss the gourmet donuts Linda brings every Friday. The salted caramel, chocolate donut was my favorite…My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I wonder if they have gourmet donuts in Sunshine Shores. Something tells me they don’t…Maybe this is a mistake.
My heart is racing, so I close my eyes and take a grounding deep breath. As oxygen flows to my brain, so does my level headedness. Did I just let a potential lack of gourmet donuts make me second guess my life choices?Pull it together woman!
I gotta get out of here. Disarming the donut worry is one thing, but the sight of Bronson Campbell could bring me to my knees in front of Linda, begging for my job back. That’s right, time to go. Do not linger for one last look at him. So what if there were murmurs that he might be coming in today after a two week hiatus? None of my concern. I am starting a new life. I’m gonna find a beachy Bronson Campbell replacement to crush on. Goodbye Mountain View Press. Hello Sunshine Shores.
