Page 16 of Meet Me at the Grand

“How’d you know?”

“Doris was complaining about it at church on Sunday.”

Cody, who looked five to ten years younger than Liam, laughed good-naturedly, adjusting the strap on his helmet. “She hounded me about it, and my schedule finally freed up. That storm took down a few trees, and I was needed to help haul them off.” Looking past Dani, he nodded at Liam. “Hey, there.”

“What’s up, man.”

Then back to Dani. “Who’s this?”

“A guest of Uncle Seb’s. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good one.” Cody waved again and took off, powering his way up the hill.

“Friend of yours, I take it?” Liam asked as Dani continued down the hill, halting at an all-way stop before continuing straight. “Or do you just know everyone here?”

“Yes and yes.” Dani lifted an eyebrow his way. “It’s a small town.”

“Right.” Liam laughed again, despite the breeze scraping across his cheeks. “Just how small is small?”

“Small enough.”

Just below the tree line, Liam could make out flat gray- and blue-shingled roofs. From what he could tell, they were coming in the back way, making a straight shot across the middle of the island toward the southern tip, where the downtown area was located. And it appeared they were coming down through a neighborhood of older-looking homes.

“Have you ever been to Jonathon Island before?”

“First time.”

“Then prepare to be mesmerized.”

And that’s when the trees fell away and the road opened up to the heart of the island.

Liam sucked in a breath. Compared with the bustling metropolis of Los Angeles, it was a blip, but the history showcased in the residences on the path toward the downtown business area was enough to make his heart stutter.

Several Victorian homes sat on large plots of land facing each other, competing for grandeur despite their weatherworn paint. Enormous porches wrapped around the fronts and sides, hugging the homes, which boasted sweeping, multi-gabled roofs.

Closer to the edge of town, a hulking Greek Revival-era home with a crooked bed-and-breakfast sign looked abandoned, its full-height white portico cracked but still proud, its gable arched and towering over the Queen Anne-style cottage just beside it. Ivy wound up the side of the cottage, thick and resilient despite the low temperatures.

“This is Jonathon Boulevard, one of the first residential streets built by our town. With seven historic homes and one bed-and-breakfast, it’s a hallmark street.”

“Who owns these houses?”

“Many of them are second homes that used to be owned by Chicago and Minneapolis residents who would vacation here for the summer.”

“Used to?”

“Yes.” Dani turned left down a residential street called Lilac Lane. “I’ll take you the long way around so you can see more of downtown before the main event. The homes here aren’t as stately, but they house a lot of the downtown workers. Fishermen, restaurant and shop owners, that kind of thing.”

The difference in size was stark, with most of these homes being small craftsman bungalows that couldn’t have more than two or three bedrooms. Many of the windows were dark, though others had signs of life—flower boxes beneath the windows, bicycles and kids’ toys strewn in the yards, a fresh coat of paint on the front door.

Liam crossed his arms. “They remind me a little of the homes down by the beach back home.”

“How so?”

“Small, functional. And with a kind of island charm that comes from being near a body of water.”

“Hmm. I like to think Jonathon Island is unique, but I guess I can see that.”

“I sense a pride when you talk about it. You lived here long?”

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