“I don’t want you to take care of me anymore,” she says. “I just want you to love me. And you can come love me at the retirement village,” she adds gently.
I stare at her. “You’re serious?”
“I am, and I want you to figure out what you want to do with the store,” she continues. “Sullivan’s Fine Jewelry is more than ‘fine’ in your hands.”
My breath catches slightly.
“And the house…” She gives a small shrug. “We can keep it. We can sell it. You can decide what feels right.”
“Grandma—”
“Those things were always going to be yours,” she says, cutting me off gently. “So why not do something with them now? Together. While I’m still here. While I can see it. Be part of it.” Her hand squeezes mine again. “While I still have skin in the game and I’m standing on this earth.”
I let out a shaky breath, my eyes stinging now. This is not the conversation I thought we were having today.
And somehow, it’s exactly the one we needed to have.
CHAPTER 24
TY
I’ve taken direction my whole life. Coaches. Systems. Play diagrams drawn out so clearly there’s no question where I’m supposed to be or what comes next.
And the girls and I—we’re better than we were a couple weeks ago. I know how to talk to them on the ice. I know how to meet them where they are. So this shouldn’t be a problem.
Except it is.
Up here, I’ve got nothing. No plan. No outline. Not even a vague idea of what I’m supposed to say about jewelry to a room full of girls who are already looking at me like I’m wasting their time.
I told Vivian I’d handle it. Which, in hindsight, feels like a bold claim for a man who doesn’t know the difference between half the tools laid out on these tables.
“Where’s Miss Vivian?” one of them asks.
“Yeah,” another chimes in. “Are we doing jewelry today?”
A chorus of agreement follows.
I nod once, hands braced on the table in front of me like that might help. “So. Miss Vivian had a family emergency.”
That gets their attention. Their expressions shift and concern flickers in.
“She’s okay,” I add quickly. “She just needs to be with her grandmother right now.”
“Are we still making stuff?” someone asks, hopeful.
I glance at the tables. All the tools. All the expectation. We could make things. I could teach them how to make paper airplanes, or I could teach them how to make a fool out of themselves—that one I’ve got down.
Or I could teach them that sometimes things don’t go the way you planned, and you figure it out anyway.
“You know what?” I say, straightening. “We’re going to pivot. Today, we’re going to watch a movie.”
There’s a half-second of silence before every single one of them looks at each other and they cheer.
“What is it?” one of them demands immediately.
I glance toward the door and give a quick nod. Right on cue, it opens.
Liam walks in first, pushing a rolling TV like it’s 1998, Owen behind him with something that absolutely looks like it came out of a storage closet no one’s touched in a decade.
