Page 74 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“What if I move in with Dawson and things don’t work out?” I ask, voicing my concern.

“You’ll have a good cry, then you’ll come here to play bingo, watch back-to-back episodes of your favorite shows, and find solace in the bottom of an ice cream tub. After that we’ll find you a stunning apartment with a beautiful view of the skyline.” She taps her finger on her mouth, hinting that she has more to share. “But what if moving in with himdoeswork out?” Gram pauses to give me a chance to think about it. “If it were me, I’d rather take the risk then play it safe and always wonder if I missed out on something incredible.”

She has always been my greatest cheerleader, her support unwavering. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her. Though I wish I could have had more time with my mom, I’ll forever cherish the close relationship I have with Grams.

I get up to give her a big hug. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Reese.”

She swipes a stray tear from my face with her thumb and wipes it on the blanket draped over her lap. I furrow my brow, wondering how I hadn’t noticed it before. It looks new so I assume she won it in another round of bingo or one of her friends gave it to her.

With my mind cleared now, I help Grams finish the puzzle, and then we say our goodbyes.

On my way out of the facility, April waves me down near the reception desk. She must have started her shift after I got here.

“Reese, did you hear what happened?” she asks as she sets out new flyers advertising a knitting class for the residences.

“I haven’t,” I admit, glancing around the reception area, hoping for some clue as to what she’s referring to.

She leans over the desk, her voice dropping to a whisper. “A generous donor donated ten million dollars to the facility, enough to cover all the residents’ care for a full year.” She claps her hands, her voice filled with excitement. “You should get a call from the administrator soon, but I couldn’t let you leave without telling you the wonderful news.”

My expression goes slack. “Do you know who it was?”

She shakes her head. “They asked to remain anonymous.”

“Do you happen to know if the same donor had new blankets delivered to the residents?”

April chuckles. “Actually, yes. They told the administrator to get two cashmere blankets for every resident. It’s a sweet gesture since it tends to get cold here at night,” she says as she tightens her sweater around her middle.

“Thanks so much for letting me know,” I say on my way out.

I think back to the night Dawson came to bingo with us and Grams shared how she’s always wanted a cashmere blanket. This grand gesture has to be him. There’s no one else with that kind of money who would do something this thoughtful for this specific facility.

With my mind still reeling on what my next steps are, I need a little more time to process, so I head back to my house. When I arrive, there’s a bouquet of two dozen sunflowers on the porch accompanied by a simple note.

I had the furnace fixed – D

When I left the office, I didn’t tell him where I was going. Yet, he somehow knew I’d come back here eventually. My pulse is racing as I fiddle with my keys, and I’m enveloped in warmth when I finally step inside the house. However, aside from the heat now working, it’s the same as when I left.

Reese:Thank you for the flowers and for fixing the furnace.

Dawson:I couldn’t let you go back to a cold house.

Dawson:I’m glad you made it home safe.

Strange how this place doesn’t quite feel like home anymore.

Reese:Are you still at the office?

Dawson:I’m at Steel & Ink. I just finished an angel tattoo and it made me think of you.

The sentiment makes butterflies dance in my stomach.

As I survey the rundown living room, a thought occurs to me. Dawson could have easily had the place renovated while I’ve been staying with him, but he didn’t. While he’s not afraid to cross most boundaries, he somehow knew that I needed to make this particular decision on my own, and I appreciate it more than I can say.

Grams was right—this place is just a house. A home isn’t defined by a structure with four walls or an address. It’s the feeling of belonging. It’s unconditional love. And now I understand that my home is where my heart is—with Dawson.

After packing up my office, and making countless calls to clients, I was ready to leave for the last time. Coming to the tattoo shop tonight was a good distraction. My first client served in the military, and a few years ago his fellow service member died in the line of duty. He wanted his dog tags tattooed on his arm as a tribute to their friendship. My second client is one year sober, and celebrated by getting a guardian angel tattoo on her shoulder.

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