“Reese?” My grandmother beams as she opens her front door. “What are you doing here, honey?”
Her arms are wide to hug me before I’ve even told her the reason for my visit.
I love my grandparents. They’re kind and sweet, exactly how you’d hope your grandparents to be. Sure, my grandfather became my business mentor when I got older, but when we’re not at the field, he’s just my grandfather.
Which is why I wanted to have this conversation here, I suppose. At his home—where I’ve celebrated almost every Christmas and more than a handful of birthdays over my life. As if the familiar territory will soften the blow of what I have to tell him.
I give my grandmother a hug before she pulls back, hands on both my shoulders to look me over. “Is everything okay with you?”
Lying, I nod. “I was hoping to talk to Grandad.”
“Is that my Reese’s Pieces?” I hear my grandfather call out. His wife moves out of the way so he can see me. “It is! Come in! What a lovely surprise.”
I step into their family home, closing the door behind me.
“She wants to talk to you, Arthur.” My grandmother’s tone clearly hopes to convey something to him. Not that she knows what.
“Oh.” His previous cheery tone settles. “Okay. This seems like it may be serious. Should we talk in my study?”
My attention bounces to the French doors that lead to his study, but there’s a reason I came here instead of having this conversation in my office. There’s a part of me that’s hoping he’ll be my grandfather more so than my business mentor today.
“Would you mind if we talked in the living room?”
“Great idea.” My grandmother pats me on the back. “You two talk in there and I’ll make you both some tea.”
My grandfather eyes me cautiously, a bit resigned in the way he’s holding his shoulders. As if he knows he’s not going to like what I have to tell him.
We wordlessly make our way into the living room. This one is less formal than their sitting room with all the stiff antique furniture. It helps add to the comfortability. I’m desperate for a bit of comfort today.
My grandfather takes his usual seat in his worn-in leather recliner. But I can’t even attempt to relax, so instead of taking the matching one where my grandmother usually sits, I opt for the sofa across the room.
It’ll give me a bit of space to breathe from his inevitable disappointment.
Awkward silence stifles the air. I don’t have it in me to start this conversation and he clearly doesn’t want it to happen at all. As if not having to hear whatever I’m going to say would give me the chance to fix it. To change it on my own.
But there’s no changing this. Even if I wanted to.
Our family photos line the walls of the room. There are a few photos of my dad’s mom too, but any of the ones where I’m older than a baby, the woman who I now call my grandmother is in them. In every photo, there’s only five Remingtons. My grandparents, my parents, and me. As an only child, who didn’t see myself having my own children one day, I assumed I’d probably never have a family bigger than this. As if that was the only way it could expand.
But here I am at thirty-five, feeling like I’m on the edge of it growing bigger than I ever imagined.
“Reese.” My grandfather uses his professional voice. “What’s going on?”
I look him over, soaking in the mental image of this moment. Because there’s an awfully good chance this is going to be the last time he views me as a respectable businesswoman. Or as the girl who was so eager to follow in his footsteps. The girl he was so proud to lead the way for.
“Are you stepping down?” he finally asks, unable to bear the silence any longer. “Is that what this is about?”
“What? No. No, that’s the last thing I want.”
Relief washes over him. “Then what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
“It’s Emmett.”
“Monty?” He sits up in his chair. “Is he okay? What happened?”
“He’s okay.”
“Is it his contract? I don’t understand why you haven’t had him sign an extension yet. Time is ticking, Reese.”
