Page 23 of Home for Justice
“Dad!”
He turned toward her voice, grinning broadly, lifting one arm warmly to receive her hug. “I knew they had you walking, but I had no idea you’d look this strong already.”
“Your dad is doing wonderfully,” declared the physical therapist walking beside him.
Her father’s pride shone clearly in his smile. “The doctor says if everything looks good, I can go home the day after tomorrow.”
Justice hugged him tighter. “I can’t wait to have you home.” Her sentiment was true, but she needed to finish getting his room ready so he could move around with ease using his walker.
He chuckled. “I’ll have a restricted diet, but I’ll still enjoy our meals together.”
“Well, you’ve always eaten clean, but we’ll make sure to follow every instruction,” she assured him gently. “No more fried foods or salty snacks, but lots of lean proteins, veggies, and whole grains.”
“How’s everything at work?” he asked cautiously.
“Everything’s fine, Dad. Please don’t worry about anything at the shop.”
“I’m not worried.” He patted her hand. “But I don’t want you overstressed.”
She smiled reassuringly. “Everyone at the garage is doing their best, just like always.”
Her father’s expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose his grandson is still staying there?”
“Yes, Tyler’s very nice. I took the extra apple pie to him yesterday.”
Her dad laughed softly. “His grandmother’s recipe?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled, nodding. “I thought he’d appreciate something familiar now that he’s alone.”
“That’s tough,” her father said solemnly. “Has he mentioned his plans?”
Justice shook her head. “We talked a bit, but he needs time. As much as I’d like to persuade him not to sell to Anthony Milton, he has to decide what’s right for himself.”
“You’re right.” Her dad sighed. “If I thought we could buy it ourselves, I would, but Anthony would certainly outbid us.”
“Let’s not worry about that now,” she said firmly. “Let’s focus on getting you home!”
Determined to keep him positive, she chose not to mention Jordy’s unwelcome visit. Justice stayed until he grew tired, listening happily as the cardiologist confirmed he could go home with only one more day at the hospital. As she sat beside him, allother worries faded, replaced by gratitude that she still had her father with her.
12
Tyler spent his day wandering from room to room in his grandparents’ cozy, well-loved house. Just as he’d told Justice, the home was sturdy and sound, built solid enough to withstand the fierce Montana winters and the relentless winds that swept down from the majestic mountains.
While Charlie had done a respectable job keeping things tidy, the absence of his grandmother’s meticulous touch was evident. The floors, once gleaming, now held scuff marks. The windows, although updated years earlier and effective at keeping out the bitter chill, had grown cloudy with neglect.
The kitchen showed signs of practical care. Appliances were modern and efficient, but the countertops were chipped and worn. The cabinets, lovingly handcrafted and still solid, yearned for the rejuvenating touch of fresh paint. Strolling through each room, Tyler mentally cataloged the spaces. Whether he stayed or sold, the walls would also benefit from a vibrant new coat of paint.
Halfway up the stairs, Tyler paused abruptly when a wave of realization washed over him. If he were to sell the property to the developer, none of these efforts would matter. The cherishedhome, which held generations of his family’s memories, would be razed to the ground.
His gaze shifted to the photographs lining the stairway wall, snapshots of happy times, filled with laughter and warmth. He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, emotion tightening his throat. The house was a living vessel of cherished memories, moments he’d long carried close to his heart. But the future was still uncertain, both for him and the place that had always felt like home.
The sharp knock on the front door jolted him from his introspection, and he quickly descended the remaining stairs. Pulling the door open, Tyler peered through the screen at the unfamiliar man standing on his porch.
“Can I help you?” Tyler asked cautiously.
“Good afternoon,” the man responded warmly. “I assume you’re Mr. Marconi’s grandson. My name is Anthony Milton, and I wanted to stop by and offer my condolences on your grandfather’s passing.”
If Justice had not mentioned Anthony Milton, Tyler might have taken the man at face value as just another neighbor paying respects. But with her warning fresh in his mind, curiosity sharpened his attention. Tyler pushed open the screen door and stepped aside. “Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
