Page 47 of One Golden Ring
“I’m a Priority One VIP, huh?” Michael asks, turning to Derek.
“That’s my weekly call with my grandfather,” Derek tells me.
What?
“It’s not such a big deal,” Michael says, waving it off. “You call me when you can.”
“We’ve moved board meetings for that,” I realize out loud.
“Some things are more important than board meetings,” Derek says, shrugging.
He’s been calling his grandfather every Monday ever since I’ve known him, arranging meetings and even travel so he would be free at that time.
Derek grabs a slice of pumpkin bread and polishes it off in two bites while I stare at him, willing my mind to put itself back together again around this new information.
I feel like I’ve gotten to know more about this man in the last three days on Angel Mountain than I have in three years of working with him night and day.
“What happened to your sweet tooth, baby?” he asks me, winking. “I was hoping to see what you think of Paula’s pumpkin bread.”
Baby…
Shaking my head in wonder, I hold out my hand for the slice he’s offering.
And when his fingers brush mine, I get that feeling again like I’m on a roller coaster.
And I don’t ever want it to end.
15
DEREK
The sun sets over the mountain as I drive us slowly through the village past the shops, the little church, and the pet shop, whose lot is temporarily being used by Farmer Connelly for Christmas tree sales. Before long we’re winding around the familiar curves of Angel Mountain back up to the lodge.
It was a good day—the kind of day you wish would never end. But I know Grandpa Michael needs a break. After feasting on just about everything we could get our hands on at the Mingle, he was ready to go to the library and admire all the homemade ornaments.
While the solar system J.B. and I worked on is an impressive contraption, there were also beautiful angels, balls, and figures made by our friends and neighbors on the mountain—some hand-crocheted, others sewn or painted, and even a few animals carved from soap.
I know J.B. was hoping to stay to see the tree decorated, but Grandpa Michael was fading by the time we finished upin the library and I was looking for an excuse to get him back to the lodge because I knew he would never ask for himself.
My big-hearted daughter must have noticed. She told her great-grandpa that she was tired and she really wanted to curl up and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He agreed to that right away.
But J.B. also didn’t want the day to be over for everyone. So now once we’ve dropped the two of them off at the lodge, Darcy and I are supposed to go back to the festivities like it’s a date night.
My chest aches and I’m not even sure why anymore. Part of it is guilt for being dishonest with my family. Grandpa Michael is one thing—he won’t be around to see the fallout.
But I never intended for J.B. to get dragged into this mess.
It turns out that she’s more in touch with the people I care about than I knew. Her great-grandfather spoke with her on the phone right after Darcy and I arrived. And according to J.B. she and Darcy have been keeping in touch through email since she went off to school.
It’s nice to think that she has a good support system. It’s an unorthodox one maybe, but I can’t think of better people to have in your corner than Darcy Keller and Michael Lockwood.
And I’m starting to worry that maybe she needs it more than I suspected. My talk with her vice-principal yesterday was more confusing than helpful.
He confirmed that she’d never had behavior issues until what he only referred to as “the incident” and healso told me that she would be allowed back after the holidays, but with the understanding that there would be no second chances for her.
All that was fine, but he had no insight intowhyshe would do what she did.
I reached out to the counselor at her school, and I’m hoping maybe she’ll have more of a sense of what’s going on and how J.B. is really doing. But so far it’s been nothing but phone tag.
