Page 104 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
“Least I could do.”And please don’t thank me until you’ve listened to everything I’ve got to say. “So I asked you all to come here for a reason,” I begin, but Doc Swanson interrupts.
“Ahem.” He clears his throat, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Before you start, son, I’ve got some news that might be a little hard to hear. Or a lot hard. My stomach’s been sick about it for the past forty-eight hours, and I just want to get this over with. Ripping off the Band-Aid, so to speak.”
The cords in my neck start to throb.What’s going on?
“The clinic’s in pretty bad shape now, as you all know.” His fingers tremble, and he pulls his hands into his lap. “The fire started in the house, but it spread so quickly. Thanks to the fire department—and the storm—the structure survived. But the smoke and the water… well… the damage is…” His voice trails off. I wait a beat. When he doesn’t continue, I jump in.
“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about today.” I cut my eyes to Mac. When he nods for me to continue, I shift my focus back to Doc Swanson. “Everyone here knows I’ve been socking away money for vet school for a few years now. And I’ve got a decent amount saved. About a third, maybe. I was going to take out loans for the rest, but a couple days ago, Mac offered to pay the tuition.” I take a beat. “All of it.”
“ACK!” My mother clutches her chest and sucks in so much air, I’m surprised a tornado doesn’t kick up in the middle of the pub.
Mac cocks his head. “You all right, Aunt Elaine?”
“Here.” Doc Swanson shoves the basket of baked goods over to her. “Have a muffin.”
My father rubs at his chin. “That’s an awful lot of money, Mac.”
“A lot is relative, Uncle Phil,” Mac says. “Terrible pun unintended. But McCoy Construction is more successful now than I think my dad ever imagined. And I’m just trying to find ways to give back. To put his legacy to good use.” Mac’s voice is thick with emotion. “My dad would’ve wanted that too.”
“Mac’s right.” I plant my hands on the table. “Uncle Ted always funded projects he believed in. Like that big library in Apple Valley.”
“Exactly,” Mac says.
“Which is why the two of us talked”—I turn to Doc Swanson—“and we want to redirect the money he offered me to you.”
“ACK!” Another gasp from my mother. She reaches for a muffin.
“Mac and I want to make sure the clinic—and your house—gets rebuilt bigger and better than ever.”
“Oh, no.” Doc Swanson’s shoulders slump. “I can’t let you do that, son.”
“Please,” I say. “You absolutely can. I know you’ve got insurance, but all the red tape will take a lot of time to process. And even then, the funds will probably be limited. You and Mrs. Swanson deserve the best of everything. And we can give that to you. Well, Mac can, anyway.”
Mac leans across the table. “I offered you the money first, Brady. You’re the one being generous.”
“Oh, dear.” Doc Swanson shakes his head. “You’re both so kind. And this makes what I’ve got to say even harder.”
“Here!” my mother garbles, over a mouthful of muffin. She shoves the basket of baked goods back to him.
“I can’t eat.” He drops his eyes. “Not until I tell you all, Wendy and I decided we aren’t going to reopen the clinic.” He shifts in his seat, voice thick. “Of course, we’ll make sure the place is rebuilt. Both sides of it. We wouldn’t dream of leaving a burned-out shell in our neighborhood. But then, after the repairs are finished, we’re going to sell it. As a home.” He lifts his gaze to mine, slowly. “We know you’ve been counting on working there, son…”
“Actually I—”
“And then taking over after you finish school.”
“But that’s the thing, I—”
“Please.” Doc Swanson throws up a hand. “Let me finish, son.” He gulps. “This latest blip with Wendy—her ending up in the hospital and all—well, it got us thinking. We only have a certain amount of time left on this earth, and we don’t want to waste another minute of it.”
“What are you going to do?” my dad asks before I can.
“We think it’s time to start living our dream.” Doc Swanson’s shoulders hitch up. “To retire and move to Florida.”
“Fluff-iff-uh?” my mother coughs over her muffin. She holds up a hand and gulps. “Does this mean Brady gets to keep the money?”
Doc Swanson’s mouth sweeps up on one side. “It was his in the first place.”
Mac cocks his head. “Whatever Brady wants works for me.”
