Page 46 of One Wild Wedding Weekend

“You can talk to him. He knows how to keep a secret.”

Tristan swallowed his misgivings. “You’ll have my support every step of the way. You know that, I hope.”

Harold nodded. “I do. And I appreciate it.” He paused, taking another sip of his drink. “The only constant is change,” he said. “I’ve come to a turn in the road. I hope it’s not the end, but either way, I need to focus on my health. You’ve been running things admirably for years. The difference is, you’ll own it all now. You deserve this chance to steer L&D in a modern direction.”

“And if you get well?”

For the first time, Harold gave him a genuine smile. “If I get well, I’m going to learn how to play golf. Visit the Caribbean. Maybe find me a lady friend. I’ll be okay, Tristan. And so will you.”

When Tristan reached out to John suggesting dinner, his brother countered with an invitation to take the boat out on the lake. Tristan jumped at the chance. He left the office at four thirty, changed clothes at home and headed out the door.

When he arrived at John’s house, he expected to find Tabby going along. But she was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s your bride?” he asked.

John stowed a cooler in the trunk. “She’s got a baby shower thing for one of her teacher friends. They’re all going for mani-pedis, dinner and a movie. Hop in.”

One thing Tristan always loved about road trips with his brother was having time to think. John opened the sunroof, cranked up the music and set off down the interstate. Neither of them had to say a word for fifty miles if they didn’t want to...

Though Tristan still reeled from the news about Harold, he relished the heat and the sunshine. Summer baked his brain, reminding him of easier, more carefree days as a kid. Life as an adult was challenging. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. But never as simple as the days he and John had spent climbing trees, riding dirt bikes and staying out till dark.

In Tristan’s mind, Harold was supposed to live forever. He didn’t want to think about the grim possibilities. Losing the man who had been so good to him was unthinkable.

In a way, the situation with Daley felt eerily similar. She was in perfect health, but she mattered deeply to him, and he felt her slipping away.

His world was changing around him. He felt helpless. That remarkably unacceptable reaction was a jagged burr in his chest.

John kept his boat at a marina on a finger of Lake Lanier. They made it there by seven thirty. It was a perfect time of day. The simple routines of untying and easing away from the dock were familiar. Tristan felt some of his stress slipping away.

After jetting across the water at high speed, John dropped anchor in a familiar small cove. He had brought worms and fishing tackle, but the exercise was more about habit and tradition than bringing home food.

The two of them baited their hooks, propped their poles in anchored holders and sat back to enjoy the view. The gentle slap of water against the hull of the swaying boat was hypnotic. Even at this hour, the heat was fierce.

John yawned. “Man, this is the life. If I tried, I might be able to retire at forty or forty-five.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want? I thought you were the driven one of the two of us.”

His brother snickered. “Where do you think I learned it?” He swatted a fly from his face. “No, seriously. I’ve spent five years learning how to make money for myself and other people. I love the challenge, but having Tabby in my life has changed me. I don’t want to live at the office for fifty or sixty hours a week.”

“You mentioned a baby shower. Does Tabby have baby fever?”

“We both do,” John said, smiling. “And it may be sooner than later. The only thing holding us back is the intensity of my workload. She doesn’t want to be a single parent, and I can’t blame her. Besides, if I have a kid, I want to be an all-in dad.”

Tristan marveled inwardly how life’s twists and turns sometimes spilled out into a pattern no one ever saw coming. “Well,” he said. “I have news—news that may affect your future plans.” He proceeded to tell John the medical update Harold had shared earlier in the day.

His brother frowned. “I hate to hear that. Do you think he’s covering up how bad things really are?”

“I have no idea.” Tristan shrugged. “Somehow, I thought he’d go on for another decade at least. It’s shaken me up, to be honest.”

“He’s eighty-five. Did you really imagine him working for ten more years?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to think about it,” Tristan said. His throat was tight, and his stomach churned. “He wants to sell me the business for a nominal price. Give you a comparable cash gift. Right now.”

John was visibly shocked. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. He’s always been generous with us. But you don’t look happy about this development. What’s the problem? Other than worrying about his health?”

Tristan stood and stretched, surveying other boats at a distance. “I thought I had time to think about things.”

“What kinds of things?”

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