Page 294 of Mountain Grump
Chapter 171
Tilda
The interiorof the house is small but not cramped.
The kitchen is off to the side, open, with a peninsula island, much like my house. And the living room is bright, with a sliding glass door that looks out over a little pond, letting in a lot of sunlight.
I take a seat on the emerald-green couch as Stephen lowers himself into one of the two peach-colored armchairs opposite me.
Between us is an antique lacquered coffee table with gold inlay tracing the edge.
And on the table is a plate with four different types of cookies.
“Sadly, they aren’t homemade.” Stephen gestures at the plate. “Jack was the baker.”
He sounds… happy. But there’s a hint of that sadness I feel in my chest.
I lift my gaze to the wall behind Stephen.
And it’s all right there.
The framed photos.
The two of them.
Arms around shoulders. Smiles and soft expressions.
“I always told him we should tell you.” Stephen’s voice holds no admonishment. “But he was a stubborn man.”
“I…” I press my palms against my thighs. “I would’ve been happy for him. I am. I wish…”
“He knows. He was never afraid you wouldn’t.” Thethen whymust be written all over my face because Stephen answers my unspoken question. “He didn’t want to burden you with secrets.”
“That’s stupid.”
Stephen huffs a laugh. “Stubborn, remember? But I told him I was going to do this.” He gestures across to me. “And he didn’t even try to tell me not to. Honestly, I think he wanted me to. And I think the whole elaborate inheritance plan was his way of apologizing. He was always bad at that.”
“Apologizing?” I try to smile as I reach up and brush away a tear.
My body is so tired of these mixed emotions.
Joy for Uncle Jack, knowing he wasn’t alone. That he had someone.
And sadness that he never told me. That I had to find out now.
Sometimes it’s the little things.
The laughs. The meals together. The hand holding.
Sometimes it’s the big things.
The moments that feel like they might’ve saved your life.
Usually, it’s everything.
The big and the little. The explosive and the slow.
Love can be all of that. And so much more.
