“Nice chat, Pops,” I said over my shoulder on my way toward the door. I could’ve prepared the package in the office where we had pens and tape and anything else I’d need to mail the diary, but considering everything that had taken place since I’d walked in, I figured it would be best to finish it elsewhere. Between the drama with the lease and then the dramatic history lesson, I wasn’t sure I could handle much more at the moment. I needed time to regroup before entertaining another conversation like that anytime soon.
“Hey, wait,” he called out, halting my exit. But before I could grumble any annoyance, he bent over and picked something off the floor. “You dropped this. I think it came out of your book.”
I took the folded piece of paper from him and opened it, not sure it even belonged to Kenny. But once I read the first line of the typed and signed document, all doubt had been vanished. It was definitely Kenny’s. “It’s just an in-case-of-emergency letter, with what looks to be her mom’s information along with phone numbers and health insurance details. Pretty smart, considering she was here all alone. Unfortunately, if anything had happened to her, this wouldn’t have done any good since I didn’t even know it existed.” I laughed quietly under my breath.
“Well, she’d probably want it shredded if it has personal information on it.” He held out his hand, silently offering to take care of it for me.
I gave it to him, but before I let go of it, I said, “Don’t do anything with it yet. Let me ask her what she wants me to do with it first. I don’t know if it’s something she carries with her everywhere she goes, and if that’s the case, I can just send it back with the book.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I was just thinking about someone coming across it before it makes its way to her house. But you’re right, you should—” He practically choked on his words as he stared at the document. Frantic uncertainty painted his expression, which quickly morphed into anger. “You said her name is McKenna?” He lifted his gaze from the paper to my face. “McKenna Richards?”
“Uh…yeah.” I had no idea where this was going, but I could tell I wasn’t going to like it.
“Her mom is Rebekah Tisdale?”
Now I was even more confused. “I guess, if that what it says.”
His attention moved rapidly between my face and the note in his hand. Then, without warning, he turned toward the desk, slammed the paper down with a harsh thud, and hastily flipped through the contents of the legal folder regarding the lease.
My head was all over the place. I didn’t understand what any of this was about, and the longer it took him to explain, the more anxious I became. At this point, the outcome couldn’t be good, not with the way he hysterically scanned the documents in the folder.
“What is it, Dad? Tell me.”
Just then, he stopped turning the pages and aggressively pointed to something in the text by jabbing his finger on it. When he turned his head toward me, I couldn’t ignore the combination of anger and betrayal that mangled his expression. “Did you talk to this McKenna girl about the resort? Anything about the business side of things?”
Still, I had no idea where his reaction stemmed from. All I knew was that he demanded answers, and as scared as I was to give them to him, withholding the truth wouldn’t do either of us any good. So I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded.
“What did you tell her?”
“Uh…basically the history of it—like, why Grandma opened it to begin with and how it’s connected to Chogan.” I took a deep breath, scanning the room in the hope something would come to me, jump out of the air and make sense of this. “She’s the one who suggested doing more marketing or promotions to bring in more business.”
He barely blinked, and from what I could see, I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. “What did you tell her when she suggested that?”
“I don’t know, Dad. In a nutshell, I explained that we don’t have the means to do much; not to mention, you aren’t that eager to make any changes around here.” My anxiety continued to climb until I felt like I was coming out of my skin. “Why?”
“Because your girlfriend’s mom is the new landowner.”
No. Fucking. Way.
“That can’t be,” I repeated to myself under my breath. But apparently, I wasn’t as quiet as I thought, because my dad heard it and lit into me some more. I couldn’t comprehend anything; his words were nothing but muffled garble, muted by the static filling my ears.
I snatched Kenny’s emergency contact form off the desk and read over it again. Then I scanned the document from the folder, the same one my dad continually battered with his finger. Right there, in black in white, on both pieces of paper was one name: Rebekah Tisdale.
Separately, both names could’ve been common. But together, the likelihood of it being the same person was pretty great. Not to mention, I didn’t think that was a very common spelling of Rebekah.
The longer I stared at the letters that made up the name of the person who was responsible for the fate of my family’s legacy, the angrier I became. My stomach knotted and flipped. Like a pendulum, I swung between the need to vomit and the urge to hit something.
One thing was for sure, though: Standing around wouldn’t make it right.
I had to do something.
And there was only one thing to do.
Confront Kenny.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kenny
Every day was the same as the last. Which only made me miss Drew and Black Bird that much more. In fact, it began to make me resent my grandfather, even though I knew it wasn’t his fault he needed care.
Not for the first time today, I went into the living room to lower the TV volume. This was a regular thing we had to do. My grandpa’s mental state seemed to worsen every day. His new thing was turning up the volume, forgetting that he’d already done that five or six times. Personally, I believed it got too loud even for him, but since he was so used to always turning it up, he couldn’t remember to turn it back down. Regardless, Mom and I were constantly going to the living room to lower the volume just so we could hear ourselves think in a different room.
As soon as I set the remote down—across the room from his recliner—the doorbell rang. Mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, so I called out that I would get it and then opened the front door.
It was as if the angels had heard my prayers and delivered him to me.
Standing on the front stoop was none other than Drew Wheeler in all his smoldering sexiness. However, right after the instant rush of excitement hit, I realized that his expression was off. Rather than share the same eagerness that flooded my system, he appeared to have a little more…fury. Actually, a lot more fury. To be exact, he showed absolutely no sign of enthusiasm whatsoever.
“Hey,” I said cautiously. Without knowing the reason for his visit or why he appeared to be on the verge of cursing someone out, I had no idea how to react. So, with caution was the safest bet.
His jaw ticced and gaze narrowed. His brow furrowed, and his nostrils flared. This was a completely different side of Drew that I hadn’t experienced. This was not the same guy I’d spent a week with, given my body to, and thought about every day since I left. I’d seen him tired and annoyed, and once or twice, he seemed a little frustrated. But nothing like this.