Theo wrapped her up in a tight hug. “I’m glad you did.” He handed her a bag. “Here, I got you something.”
Lucille peeked in and then grinned. “Oh, you amazing boy.” She pinched his cheek. “You know chocolate pie is my favorite.”
Lucille was the only person in the world that called his thirty-five-year-old self a boy, but Theo didn’t mind. He left her happily eating in the kitchen and followed the sound of the piano.
Georgie Clairmont sat on a bench in front of a baby grand. She was tiny sitting there in her bathrobe, hunched over the keys. Her head, covered in a soft knit beanie that the nurses at the cancer center handed out, was turned away from him. He sat next to her on the bench.
“Lucille called you.” It wasn’t a question.
“She’s worried about you. You need to rest, Georgie.”
She finished the notes, letting the music linger until a comfortable silence settled around them.
He handed her the milkshake. “Strawberry. I had them spike it so you could sleep.”
A smile crept onto her lined face. “Where’s yours? You don’t sleep either,” she said.
“I don’t need it like you do. Besides, I had a drink at the pub with Neal and Charlotte before coming here.”
“Neal,” a flicker of distaste shadowed her face. “He’s working you too hard, just like he did your father.” She sniffed. “Do I smell wine?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Charlotte was there? How is she?”
“She’s good. Working hard on the campaign.”
“I always hoped you and Charlotte would end up together.” Almost absently, her fingers danced over the keys.
“Charlotte’s as much a sister as Lieren is,” Theo said. It was true; Theo, Grant, and Ford had grown up with Charlotte and teased her like they had teased Lieren, their baby sister. Charlotte was a good friend and a hard worker in the office, but that was all.
“I know.” She sighed. “I used to love going out for drinks with your grandfather. I’d order a Manhattan and feel so fancy.”
“I’ll take you out.” Theo grinned. “You can watch pink-haired bartenders throw drinks at me.”
Georgie stopped playing and smiled broadly. “Is that what happened tonight? How delightful. Did you deserve it?”
“Of course not,” Theo said. “I was the perfect gentleman. And your definition of delightful and mine are very different.” Theo nudged the milkshake toward her. “Drink.”
Georgie dutifully sipped, one hand dancing lightly over the keys again. “Perfect gentlemen can be perfectly boring, my dear. You never did learn to play piano, did you?”
“Why would I when I could listen to you?”
Georgie leaned her head on his arm. “Because it’s fun. Because taking a risk can open up worlds you can’t imagine. Sometimes I wish…” she trailed off. “I worry about you, Theodore. You’re always so wrapped up in your work, just like your father and your grandfather were. You don’t take any time to enjoy life. Your father always said he would when he retired, and he didn’t get the chance,” she said quietly. “I worry we burdened you with their legacy.”
Theo winced at his full name, his father’s name. Georgie was the only person he allowed to call him that because he knew what it meant to her. Thepain of losing his parents was a constant reminder to him to continue to give everything he had to Northfield.
Theo held her hand gently. The skin was paper thin. “Georgie, I'm where I want to be. The work I do—it's important to me. I don’t need anything else. I’m happy.”
“Life is about the chances we take.” She set the milkshake down. “I just don’t want you to get to be my age and regret not taking any.”
“I know you worry, and I appreciate that.” Theo squeezed her blue-veined hand gently before grinning. “My only regret is that I won’t have any of your wild stories to tell my grandkids one day.”
“You could.” Her eyes lit up with memories. “We did have good times. I wish you'd find someone and fall in love like your grandfather and I did. Now he’s gone and what do I have left that matters except for all of our beautiful memories? What if you wake up one day and look back on your life, and you don’t have that because you gave your best years to your job?”
“Now that’s the booze talking. Let’s get you to bed before you start campaigning for more great-grandkids,” Theo teased. He helped her up, noticing how frail her bones felt.
“I want a whole houseful of them, but you won’t stop working long enough to give me any.” Georgie stopped and gave him a hard stare. “There’s more to life than work, Theodore.”
