Chapter Four
Dominick
Grandpa opened the door to his old ranch house, a smile filling his face and stretching all of his wrinkles up toward the sky.
“Grandpa!” I said, grasping his hand and pulling him in for a hug. “It’s a beautiful day out here, isn’t it?”
From the expansive wooden deck, we could see across the forests and to the mountains in the distance. The hillside sloped slowly downward from his home, and coniferous trees sprouted in clumps from the grass. He adjusted his glasses as he gazed across the quiet, still landscape with me.
“It sure is beautiful,” he agreed. “Although I still think it was silly of you to buy me this place.” He turned, gesturing for me to follow as he led me into the large, open living space of the ranch.
“You and Grandma always wanted to live in the mountains,” I said, kicking my shoes off. “It makes me happy that I can do these kinds of things for you. Not to mention the Davilas are your neighbors on one side and the Erdogans on the other. I hated that you and Grandma were driving through these roads in the dark twice a week just to see your best friends.”
Grandpa took his seat at the counter that divided the kitchen and living room, his crossword puzzle and a cup of coffee waiting. “Even so. Now that it’s just me, it feels a bit embarrassing to have so much space.”
“Well then, I definitely made the right decision in coming back to Denver for a year. You’ll be entertaining me every few days, whether you like it or not,” I joked.
He waved his coffee in the air, spilling a little over the edge of the mug. With a white tank stretched over his chest, I couldn’t help but appreciate how strong he still was and the way his biceps popped when he gestured at me.
Something in the genes, I hoped.
“Don’t think I’m ungrateful,” he said, his old Italian accent rising to the surface a little. “I couldn’t be prouder of you, son. When your abuela and I took you into our home, we never could have imagined the shy little five-year-old with the big mess of hair would grow up and do the kinds of things you do.”
“Okay, okay,” I laughed, holding my hands in the air. “Can we get through one lunch without a speech about my business success?”
He rose to his feet, shuffling toward the fridge. “Only if you give me some stories. How’s work treating you? You’re not missing the… whatever it’s called?” He pulled a soda water from the fridge, then twisted the lid off and poured it into a glass for me. “The launch?”
“The launch, that’s right,” I said, accepting the glass. My old firm had handled the green rebranding for a string of popular restaurants in Manhattan, and the last of those ventures was having a very exclusive party to launch their new Soho location. “I’m sure the food is legendary, but I’ve been to enough launches for one life. The work leading up to it is the good part.”
“Spoken like a true Russo,” he said, recalling me to his long career as a civil servant for the Veterans Affairs office. The low-level administration he did in Colorado didn’t make any big waves, but he dedicated himself to doing the best he possibly could for the veterans in his district through shifting budgets and changing times.
My ambitions were always different than Grandpa’s, but it was his example that helped me steer clear of the flashy distractions in the city and truly achieve the success I had always wanted.
It also gave me the clarity to know when it was time to return home for a long visit. I’d tasted success and wealth the way a wolf tastes blood, but at my core, I knew what truly mattered, and I’d been meaning to come back for a long stay ever since Grandma passed.
My eyes lingered on a framed photo of her, set carefully at the end of the counter. It was taken at her quinceañera in Oaxaca City, the year before she would move to the United States and meet my grandfather. I felt just as strongly influenced by the woman she was as by anyone else—travelling to a whole different country to chase her dreams and willing to fight hard for what she wanted.
“How is the new job going?” Grandpa asked, pulling me back to the conversation. “Are you acclimating to life in Denver again?”
I took another sip of my soda water, the encounter with Xavier jumping back to mind. His bubbly, bright exterior was so different than the hardened New York scowl I had come to respect. But if the men in Denver were all as enticingly beautiful as he was, I might acclimate into the city even easier than I’d imagined.
“It’s going well,” I said. “I’ve mainly just been acquainting myself with the redevelopment project and getting my hands dirty with the nuts and bolts. Things won’t really kick into gear for a couple more weeks.”
“And you’ve got a good team? You’re not disappointed to say goodbye to the firm in New York?”
I shook my head. “It’s a leave of absence, and I’m sure my old team will be churning along like normal when I get back to the office. The guys here are good, though. They’re honest and focused, even if people tend to move a little slower than I prefer.”
Grandpa chuckled and leaned forward on the counter. “Don’t be so quick to sell them short, Dominick,” he said kindly.
I scrunched up my face, surprised by his reaction. “What do you mean?”
“The executives and politicians in Denver can be just as ruthless as the men in Manhattan. Don’t forget—there’s big money in Colorado, and those aerospace guys don’t fool around.”
I waved my hand in the air, my confidence swelling as I remembered how easily I had charmed the venture capitalists and outmaneuvered the CEOs after college. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll work hard and keep my nose down, but if someone tries to mess with me, you know I won’t be shy about knocking them back.”
He shook his head, rising to his feet and wandering over to the fridge once more. “It’s just like when you were a kid,” he sighed.
I groaned. “Not the lemonade story again, Grandpa.”
