They went back inside to the blissful air-conditioning, closing the balcony door behind them. Callan headed over to the bar on the far side of the living room and motioned towards G-Man’s favorite armchair.
“Grab a seat,” he said. “I’ll get your scotch on the rocks.”
“Thanks.”
Callan stole another glance at his grandfather as he reached for the scotch. He watched him ease himself into his chair with arms that wobbled. The sight of his struggles jabbed Callan’s heart again.
When had he gotten so old? Callan wondered. So frail?
Throughout Callan’s life, G-Man had been bigger and badder than life. Although he was eighty-eight years old, he approached each day with gusto and the assumption that something incredible could happen at any moment. He never danced around an issue, always making his opinion known and daring anyone to tell him otherwise. He doted on Callan and had always served as his biggest supporter, following him from city to city as his NHL career advanced.
He was Callan’s best friend.
Well, if G-Man needed some R&R away from the Atlanta heat, Callan would make sure that happened. There was no reason his grandfather couldn’t spend more time in Boston if that was what he wanted. And it seemed Callan would need to make sure G-Man made an appointment with his long-time family physician while he was there.
Picking up the two glasses of scotch, he carried one to his grandfather and sat with the other one on the couch adjacent to his armchair.
“To turning thirty,” his grandfather said, lifting his glass and extending it towards Callan.
Callan chuckled and obliged him by tapping their glasses together. “That was a month ago, you know.”
“Not my fault you neglected your poor grandfather for weeks before coming by to celebrate with him.”
Callan read the humor in his grandfather’s tone and the twinkle in his eyes, but more guilt struck him just the same. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve made a point to come by sooner.”
His grandfather blew that off. “Nonsense. You know I’m just giving you a hard time, boy. You’ve got your life to live. I hope you lived it up for your big three-oh.”
The memory of holding Roxy against him as they danced ran through his mind. It had been a month since that night, but he still remembered her scent…exotic and provocative, like blooming roses blended with hints of smoky spices. He’d woken up more than once over the past few weeks with that unique scent teasing his senses, as though it had been permanently ingrained in him.
“I lived it up well enough,” he said.
“With anyone in particular?”
His grandfather had been advising Callan to settle down for a couple years now. Normally, he shrugged it off. This time, another unbidden image of Roxy ran through his mind.
His brow furrowed. He’s spent less than a couple hours with her, for God’s sake.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?
“No one in particular,” he responded.
“I see.”
Callan felt his unspoken disappointment. It almost had him mentioning Roxy, though he once again had no idea why.
His grandfather swirled his drink and took a sip before saying, “So, do you want to open your gift now or later?”
Callan didn’t even bother saying there hadn’t been a need to get him anything, knowing he’d be wasting his breath. He just said, “When do I ever put off something fun?”
“That’s what I figured. Check behind you.”
Turning, Callan spotted the small, wrapped box on top of the sofa table. He reached over and grabbed it before turning back around, setting his glass on a coaster on the side table to free up his hands.
“Thanks for this,” he said as he set about opening the gift.
“You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“I still appreciate it.”
“All right. Did your mother wish you a happy birthday?”
Callan’s focus on popping the tape on his gift shifted as he met his grandfather’s gaze. “Yeah. She called.”
“Well, that’s something.”
Callan’s mother would have definitely heard from G-Man—her father—the moment Callan left the apartment if he said she hadn’t called. Callan rolled his shoulders to ease the ball of tension that formed there and hoped his grandfather didn’t ask about his father, who, as expected, had never called or texted. G-Man had always tried to protect Callan, but it was a tough place to be, between a parent and their child.
He tore the wrapping paper off his gift and studied the box in his hand for a long moment. “No way. Are you fucking serious?”
G-Man chortled with laughter. “Go ahead. Try it on.”
Callan opened the watch box and stared in amazement at his grandfather’s limited edition Patek Philippe Aquanaut Travel Time Ref. 5650G, a watch he estimated was worth more than a quarter-million dollars. He’d admired it ever since his grandfather bought it—for a fraction of the price, of course. Only five hundred of the watches had ever been made.
“God, she’s a beauty,” he said. He spotted a small paper card inside the box and opened it. “‘Maybe now you’ll be on time for a change,’” he read in his grandfather’s writing. He tossed the card to the side and gave G-man a wry look. “Ha, ha.”
His grandfather laughed again.
Callan’s hand wasn’t quite steady as he took the watch from the box. He had been raised in a wealthy household, sure, but he’d never owned anything as luxurious as this watch. Since he wasn’t wearing a watch right then, he secured it around his left wrist.
“Told you it would look better on me than you,” he joked, striking a model pose with his elbow braced on his knee and the watch up near his face.
“Maybe, but right now you look like an asshole.”
It was Callan’s turn to laugh. He leaned over to give his grandfather another hug.
“Thanks again. I love it.”
“Take good care of it.”
“I will.”
Callan returned to his seat and picked up his glass, taking another swallow of his drink as he admired his gift. He heard the ice clinking in his grandfather’s glass as he also tipped back his drink. Callan started to strike up a conversation about that afternoon’s Red Sox game, then noticed the tremor in his grandfather’s hand as he placed his glass down.
“So, how’ve you been doing?” he asked instead.
“Oh, you know. Living the High Life here in the penthouse.”
“Yeah.” Callan produced a smile he didn’t feel. “You looking forward to heading up to Boston next week?”
“Of course. Zelda’s bored without me.”
“Something tells me that after working for you for more than twenty years, your head housekeeper doesn’t mind a little time to herself.”
“It sure would be more entertaining if you came home with me,” his grandfather hinted, not for the first time.
And not for the first time, Callan replied, “I know, G-Man. I just don’t have it in me to deal with the parents.”
His grandfather huffed at that. “Don’t bother telling them you’re coming. Just hang out with me in Houghs Neck for a couple weeks. Some time at the beach where it’s not a hundred degrees would do you good.”