Unforgettable
Page 6

“I’m sorry, darling, but I have to be up early in the morning for surgery.” Mom checks her phone. “You should get a move on too, if you want to beat traffic.”
“I’ll hang out a while longer,” I tell them. “I want to thank everyone for coming.”
My dad gives me a heavy smile. “Thank you. I wish we could stay, but… The flights were tricky on such short notice. Besides,” he adds, looking around. “I wouldn’t know what to say to them, anyway.”
I bite back a retort. Nana was his mom, after all, and although they weren’t close, I know today must be hard for him. I’ve felt on the verge of tears all day, so I can understand why he wants to get back to the comforting routine of his normal life, instead of sharing his grief with everyone.
“I’ll take care of everything,” I reassure him, giving him a quick hug.
“That’s my girl. You’ll make sure the B&B is all locked up?”
I nod. “We should probably call the guests. The girl here cleared the week, but she’s got people coming for summer too.”
“We’ll need to cancel all of that.” My usually capable dad looks overwhelmed for a moment. “She was always so disorganized when it came to paperwork, I’m not sure what instructions she left.”
“I’ll check and see who’s handling it,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully. “I know we should have been prepared for this, but… I guess I never wanted to think about it. She always seemed so stalwart, insisted on taking care of herself, even after my father passed.”
“It’s OK.” I head to the car with them, and make sure they’re all set. “See you back in the city.”
I watch as they drive away. I wish my dad could stay longer and hear some more of the stories about Nana. But he never was one for sentimentality: he always put his emotions to one side; he says that’s what makes a good lawyer. Not getting involved, having the discipline to stay rational and focused at all times. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism now, but it feels wrong for him to just jet in and out without taking time to really honor Nana.
I guess I’ll have to do it for the both of us. People are heading over to the diner now for the reception, so I join the crowd—and bump straight into a polished-looking woman who’s staring after the car with a frown on her perfectly made up face.
“Was that the family?” She looks disappointed. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to them.”
“Well, you do now. I’m Noelle,” I introduce myself, but unlike everyone else in town, she doesn’t seem to recognize the name. “Nancy’s granddaughter,” I add.
Her frown melts into a bright smile. “Excellent. I mean, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” I try to place her. I didn’t see her at the service; I would have remembered her tight pencil skirt and heels for sure, out of place among the other, more casual guests. “Did you know her well?”
“No. I’m Hallie Merton, from Kingston Realty.” She produces a card from her designer handbag. “I wonder, has anyone talked to you yet, about the house?”
“The house?” I repeat, blinking.
“Beachwood Bay has seen a real boom in prices,” she continues, “and a prime beach-front plot like that could fetch top dollar. How many square feet is the lot, do you think?”
“I don’t know.” I tuck the card away, trying to be polite. “But we haven’t discussed anything just yet.”
“Well, you shouldn’t wait around!” Hallie chirps. “I know a developer looking in the area, just give me a call and I’d be happy to arrange the sale.”
I’m sure she would. I’m not even sorry when my cellphone rings, interrupting us. I check the number. It’s Lexi, calling from work. “I have to take this,” I tell her, backing away. “Good to meet you!”
I hurry away and answer my phone. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
“Emergency!” Lexi cries, sounding stressed. “Where did you put the Anderson file?”
“The what?” I pause outside the diner. It’s already full of people, eating and drinking and sharing stories. For a moment, I feel totally disconnected from the other end of the phone line, like Lexi is calling from a parallel universe.
“Anderson. Remember, Harper slipped it in the briefs last week, said it needed reviewing for comparison? You promised you’d take care of it.”
“Oh, crap!” I remember the file—and exactly where it’s sitting on my desk. Untouched. “I’m so sorry, I never got around to it. That was the day I found out about Nana.”
Lexi groans. “Goddamn it. Not you,” she adds quickly. “I know you’ve had a lot to deal with. But the Harpoon’s on the war path, he says nobody goes home until the new brief gets filed.”
I feel a stab of guilt. “I’m really sorry for leaving you all.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a funeral.”
“Yeah, and he didn’t even want to let me come to this,” I sigh. “Anyway, it’s on my desk. I made some preliminary notes, if that helps. And I think the template for the last revision is still in my file, it shouldn’t take too long.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” she cries. “Got to go.”