Page 28 of The Estate
“Well, it’s not my place, but what will you do if your parents decide to put in a golf course or simply sell the property?”
“There’s nothing simple about them selling this property,” he snarled before looking off into the trees.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Um, well, if they take option two or three as we’ll call them, then I guess I’m screwed.” He shrugged. “I know my parents want me to join them in the stock brokerage firm, but I can’t even imagine doing that. It’s not something I enjoy. I guess I’ll just have to start over somewhere else.
“I spent my summers here growing up. Some of my friends as well,” he rambled. “My grandfather always made this a special place for me. Here I could be myself, and that was okay. Later, he welcomed my college roommates and friends.”
Rachel wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or just talking out loud.
“A group of us who have remained close over the years gather here once a year to catch up, reminisce, and relax. Actually, they’re all coming this weekend.” Cal smiled. “Our Friends’ Weekends inspired me to dream of returning the estate to its glory.”
He turned to her. “I hate thinking this could be the last Friends’ Weekend here. But this is what happens when you make a five-year plan.” He laughed darkly. “It gets blasted all to hell.”
Rachel felt Cal’s words land in her heart. She knew how it felt to feel so alone in the world. And to have your life plan ripped away. As much as she tried not to feel sympathy or a kinship with him, she found herself swayed.
Gazing across the estate grounds, she saw them differently now. Cal wasn’t just running a business. He was creating something special. And something deeply personal. She couldn’t help but respect and admire him for that.
They walked quietly for a short time before Cal spoke again. “This view coming up—when the tree line breaks and you get your first view of the house—it’s my favorite view on the entire estate.”
“Really?” Rachel asked. She would have guessed the sweeping views of the ocean or maybe the back garden with its riot of color set against the house’s stony facade.
“I know. It’s not the obvious choice.” He slowed his steps and his voice was quieter when he continued. “The hydrangeas in the front garden were always my grandmother’s favorite. She loved the blue and deep purple ones as opposed to the pinks. She likedhow the colors popped against the stone of the house and the green of the grass.
“After she died, Pops and I made sure the plants were fed and cared for. It was something we did together to keep her memory alive.
“When I drive down through the canopy of trees and it suddenly lifts to that first glimpse… It always feels like coming home to me. It never fails to relax me.”
He gave a headshake, and they proceeded to the front entrance. “I can’t deny that my parents are jeopardizing my future as much as I wish they wouldn’t. I want the landscaping quote in order to plan. Or dream, at least. Yes, it’s a good thing to have for those other reasons, but if I’m being truthful, I’m not ready to face a reality where all this doesn’t exist.”
Rachel detected the sadness in his voice. She sympathized with his plight. He was in a precarious spot, no matter what. And it was obvious he cared about this property deeply. She had to agree that seeing the house demolished would be a truly sad day. It was a stunning building, even if it still required considerable work to complete the restoration.
“If a golf course is put in,” she offered, hoping to give him some solace. “Nothing prevents them from maintaining the house—maybe as a restaurant or club house? It might be something your parents could negotiate into the contract.”
He whirled to regard her, his face hard set. She took a step back. “Careful, Rachel,” he growled. “Your golf bias is showing. First the comment in the meeting and now this. Whatever will my parents think?” He wheeled and stalked toward into the house.
Rachel looked skyward. How could she ever survive working with him? One moment it seemed they were good, then in the next breath he was spouting off about something she’d said. And was he keeping track of all her comments? She wracked her brain but couldn’t remember discussing golf at the meeting. She didn’t even play golf.
She was inclined to run after him and argue back, but her rational mind won out. Even though yelling back would feel supremely satisfying, it would not help their working relationship. Best to let this slide and move ahead.
When she was little and kids would tease her, her mom used to tell her to ‘be the duck’ meaning to let it all roll off your back and not let it get to you. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to be the duck. Walking into the house, she repeated the phrase to herself, although saying it and being it were entirely two different things.
Inside, there were fortunately, or unfortunately, numerous things to distract her. Namely, Cal and Trace, the event planner, having a fairly heated discussion.
“I don’t understand why they can’t get the right color,” Cal was saying as he speared his fingers through his hair. He seemed about to rip it all out.
“Just what I said, Cal,” Trace replied her voice clipped. “I ordered the right quantity but not the right color. I went back to the vendor, and they have a color that is close, but not enough linens to fill the order. I’d rather not get a partial order because then that color won’t match linens I’d need to get with an order elsewhere.
“Why can’t we get a full order from another vendor that has the color?,” Cal demanded.
Rachel could see this was going nowhere. Trace’s spine snapped to its full height, and she spat back, “As it is last minute, I am unaware of a vendor who can supply the color we need in the quantity we need by when we need it!”
“Why the hell didn’t you double check the color, Trace?” Cal waved a file folder he had gripped in his hand.
“No one speaks to me like that!” Trace exclaimed before whirling around and vanishing down the corridor.
Cal’s free hand curled into a fist as he watched the event planner retreat. “Events suck,” he muttered.
“Cal,” Rachel said, crossing over to him. “Let me make a call. I may be able to get you some vendor names. What color do you need and how many?” She wasn’t feeling too generous toward Cal at the moment, but it was the right thing to do. In fact, it killed two birds with one stone.
