Page 130 of Fortune's Control
“My concern is for you, Lilah, not her. How do you feel about it?”
“I’m almost ready for her to come visit. Evelyn volunteered her home, so she doesn’t stay here, and that’s a start. I don’t not want a relationship with her, Shane, but I also don’t want one.”
Shane used the phrase emotional abuse to describe parts of my childhood during one of our many conversations about Sarah Jane. He’d done so with so much care and love, it rocked me, but also brought me clarity. I opened up to Lainey about it, who listened and directed me to a library shelf with a few suggested books. My relationship with my mother will remain nebulous for now, and for me, that’s okay. It’s freeing to understand that.
He nodded, understanding. “Whatever you decide, I’m here. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” How lucky am I? “Let’s get ready. These fresh lemons are begging to become dessert.”
Ever since Shane’s accidental revelation, we’ve experimented with citrus desserts, from sorbet to pie. A batch of coconut lime cookies brought him tears of joyand pleased laughs from me.
*****
Shane removed his shirt as the late July nighttime heat teamed up with the grill, overwhelming even my Florida husband.
I leaned back in my chair and took another sip of my drink. “There’s nothing better than a Margarita slushie.”
“Lilah, can you stop picturing my brother naked right in front of me?” Sophie joked.
I briefly squeezed my eyes shut. “Sorry, it didn’t work.”
Shane glanced back at the four of us, like he had heard our conversation.
Someone’s phone rang, and the muffled sounds of hands in pockets and poking under towels took over the conversation.
“It’s me. It’s my call,” Sam said, jumping up from his lounge chair. He stared at the screen and at us. “It’s a Tallahassee number.”
“Answer it,” Sophie screamed.
Did a Saturday night phone call portend good news or bad?
He took the call. “Hey, Henry.” Sam beamed and flashed a thumbs-up. “Uh-huh. I understand.” He returned to his seat as the thumbs-up disappeared. “Yes. I understand. No, thanks for calling. I appreciate hearing it from you rather than waiting until Monday.”
Sam ended the call, taking the party’s frivolity with it as he dropped into the chair. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shane announced. “There’s next year, and we already have so much. Fortune’s Creek is already a great home, and we’ll keep making it better.”
The committee laughed at my accounting jokes. How could anyone reject our proposal after that?
Sam buried his head in his hands and then looked at us. “I’msorry to say there’s a bunch of work coming your way, so get busy.”
Everyone broke into screams.
Shane approached and picked me up. “Looks like your busy days will get busier,” he said and kissed me.
Sam kept going. “It was your work that helped sell it, all of you. Our vision for the future, and proof of what’s been done.” He beckoned toward Jack and Aiden. “Restoration. Hurry and find a tenant, son. We need to show it can work.”
“But my hobbyist,” Aiden started.
“Dean will find your new tenant,” Shane decided.
His brother agreed. “Take care of healing and the car business. We’ll get the rest figured out.”
“Well, now I have to move here. This isn’t fair,” Emma whined.
Aiden dropped his bottle before catching it with his other hand. He stared at her as a dark russet flush crept up his neck to his face, before putting his attention on the pool instead.
“You know what we should do?” Shane asked me.
