"Gran! Gabe and I are in the middle of negotiations."
"Which are going nowhere," she continued.
I cleared my throat. "We hit a temporary roadblock."
"Yes, and I'm going to help unblock it."
I grabbed a bottle of water I had in the car door and took a swig. "What makes you think you're going to succeed when Gabe and I failed?"
"The way I see it, you two are already on Cami's shit list." I blinked. I rarely heard Gran swear. "But she can't flip off a lovely old lady like me, can she?”
"Damn," I said, stunned. "Makes me think how big Whitley Industries would be if you’d worked together with Granddad."
"He asked me repeatedly to join him, but I liked performing so much. It was my life. Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if I hadn't been an actress."
"What do you mean?"
She frowned. "I was gone a lot in the evenings for performances. Your father was alone with your granddad, who, as you know, isn't a man of many words. Maybe he missed parental guidance.”
I was stunned by what she'd just shared. Did Gran feel guilty about not having been around for Dad? Or was she offering a possible reason for why he did what he did?
I fundamentally disagreed. Dad was simply an asshole.
"Please don't blame yourself."
"Oh, it's a parent's prerogative to always question if you did your best."
"I know you did," I assured her.
"Now, let's talk about Cami again," she said.
I absolutely didn't want to talk about Cami again, but I also didn't want to talk about Dad. Out of the two, Cami was the better option.
"What does her mom do for a living?" Gran asked.
I blinked. "I have no idea. Come to think of it, they never even mentioned her."
"Let's see what I can find out."
“All right, how about we change the subject?” I suggested.
For the rest of the drive, we spoke about Ben. Gran was ecstatic that she had a great-grandchild. Two years ago, when she'd started her matchmaking efforts, she proudly claimed that she'd done so because she wanted great-grandchildren. Once Ben came into our lives, I naively thought she’d give up her matchmaking project. She'd proved me wrong.
We arrived in Essex a while later. I drove down Main Street, and Gran kept looking around.
“This place is lovely. But how come you decided on Essex?”
I took in a deep breath. I was walking a fine line. The reason we'd ended up buying this property was because our father had wanted it. We’d snapped it right from under his nose.
"This property popped up," I said, avoiding a flat-out lie. "Gabe initially wanted to build something near Stockbridge."
“He told you about Stockbridge?” Gran asked.
“That they used to spend the summers with their mother there? Yes.”
Meanwhile, Dad was a no-show in Boston in the summer, instead flying to Maine more often than usual. He spent time with us, took us fishing or camping. To my knowledge, he’d never done that with our half brothers.
After I met them and our grandparents, I realized Dad was a different person around them. Mom suspected that he was more relaxed in Maine. Here in Boston, Whitley Industries always weighed on his shoulders. But stress didn't excuse him being an asshole. I’d never understand how we bought his story that our grandparents cut him off financially; he was at the forefront of the company, after all. But he’d always made it sound as if he was treated poorly, like Granddad controlled all the money. Back then, social media wasn’t what it was today, so it was impossible to find out any information. There hadn’t been any article ever mentioning that he was married and had a family. I knew because I’d scoured the internet for months on end after the scandal broke.