Love Around the Corner

by Amanda Weaver

  “Jimmy was just taking me out to lunch,” his mother said brightly. “Isn’t that nice of him?”

  “He’s a saint.” Brendan stepped to the side. “Really, don’t let me keep you.”

  “Why don’t you come?”

  Jimmy frowned at his sister, but there was no real way to protest without looking like a jerk, and that was the one thing he didn’t want to do. Jimmy reveled in his little sister’s hero worship. So even though sitting across from Jimmy for a meal would feel like choking down glass, he wasn’t going to miss this for the world. They were long overdue for some real family togetherness.

  * * *

  Jimmy took them to one of the more upscale new restaurants along Court Street. A place like Sal’s wouldn’t even register on his radar. His mother protested that it was too fancy, and that Jimmy shouldn’t spend all his money on her that way. Brendan said nothing at all as Jimmy grandiosely declared that she deserved to be treated like a queen.

  They sat down near the front window, his mother oohing and ahhing over everything, oblivious to the brittle silence between Brendan and Jimmy. Jimmy busied himself pressing his sister to order an extra appetizer, to treat herself to a glass of wine, and not to worry about the money. When the server got to Brendan, he ordered a side salad and a glass of water, staring Jimmy down as he did so.

  “Jimmy, tell us how your business is doing,” his mother pressed, when the three of them were alone again.

  Jimmy leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. “It’s like the money makes itself these days.”

  “I sure wish you could convince Brendan to come back to Chicago with you. A perfectly good job with family, and he just threw it away.”

  “I’m busy with my own company here, Mom.”

  “I heard you hit a few bumps in the road,” Jimmy said slyly before taking a sip of his vodka tonic.

  “There was one, but it wasn’t really much of an obstacle.”

  “Is that so?”

  He shrugged, holding Jimmy’s gaze. “I know the neighborhood. Something worked out.”

  The slight tightening at the corners of his mouth was the only indication that he’d gotten to Jimmy. Jimmy hated to be bested, and Brendan fully expected him to hit back in some passive aggressive way.

  It didn’t take long. “It sure is a shame, Claire, that I couldn’t convince your boy to stay in Chicago. The firm’s not the same without him.”

  Brendan bit back a laugh. As salvos go, that one was spectacularly transparent. The guy really wasn’t nearly as clever as he thought he was.

  But Brendan waited it out as his mother got antsy, reaching out to touch his arm, full of concern. “I know you’ve got this crazy idea about owning your own business, Brendan, but honestly, how could you walk away from your own family like that?”

  Brendan answered his mother, but he kept his eyes on Jimmy. “I walked away from Jimmy’s business, Mom. You’re my family. I’m not walking away from you.”

  “But...” Her hands fidgeted with her napkin. “After everything Jimmy’s done for us—”

  Okay, enough was enough. No way was he sitting through another paean to Jimmy Walsh’s saintly attributes with the guy right there, preening and eating it up. Not when he knew the truth. He hadn’t planned on doing this now, but why not? A nice public scene should suit Jimmy’s sense of the dramatic.

  He leaned forward on his elbows, still staring Jimmy down. “Yes, let’s talk about everything Jimmy’s done for our family, Mom.” There was a flare of alarm in Jimmy’s eyes, and his face settled into a warning scowl, but Brendan barreled ahead. “He offered me a job, making enough to eventually pay off your debt, which I did.”

  “Taught you everything you know,” Jimmy said harshly.

  “Yes, you did. And I am grateful for what I learned under you. I thanked you for it before I left. But see, Jimmy, because of all the things you taught me, I know my way around property records.”

  Jimmy went still.

  “Please don’t start that again,” his mother whispered.

  “What? I’m just talking about a little family business. Jimmy knows what I mean, don’t you, Jimmy?”

  “Don’t upset your mother like this.” His eyes were full of fury.

  “Mom’s going to be a lot more upset when she accepts the truth, that you had her sign her house over to you and never told her.”

  “Brendan—”

  “Mom, just ask him. He’s right here. Ask him what he had you sign.”

  “Jimmy would never—”

  Brendan reached into his messenger bag hanging over the back of a chair and pulled out a slim folder. “I know you didn’t want to believe me when I showed you the paperwork from the lawyer, so I pulled the city property records.” He drew out a piece of paper and laid it on the table between the three of them. “It’s a copy of the property records, according to the City of New York. Look what it says, under Owner, and right next to your address, Mom.”

  Her eyes flickered unwillingly down to the paper, but this time, she didn’t turn her face away in denial. Documentation from a lawyer she’d never heard of would have been easy for her to brush aside as a misunderstanding, but this was as clear and simple as it got, and it wasn’t Brendan telling her, it was the City of New York.

  “Jimmy,” she murmured. “I don’t understand.”

  “I was just trying to make things easy on you, Claire. Clear out all the paperwork so you didn’t have to worry about anything.”

  “But you didn’t clear out anything,” Brendan said. “I paid off her mortgages, and the credit cards, and every other bill that came up for the past fourteen years. You didn’t take anything off Mom’s hands except her house.”

  “You told me you’d take care of things for me,” his mother said, lifting her eyes to Jimmy’s at last. “You said you’d handle everything so I didn’t have to worry.”

  Brendan let out a bitter scoff, pushing back from the table. “You really are a piece of work, Jimmy. She’d probably never have figured it out if I hadn’t come back home and started poking around. Why’d you do it, anyway? I mean, yeah, the place is worth a mint as far as houses go, but it’s not like you need it. Was it just a control thing? You wanted to make sure I had no way out?”

  “You ungrateful little shit,” Jimmy hissed. “I saved you. I offered you a job when you were nobody and knew nothing. For all I knew, you’d end up a disaster. I was covering my ass.”

  “Oh, yes, I see.” Brendan nodded slowly. “You needed an insurance policy, just in case I didn’t pan out into a stellar partner in the business, bringing in millions of dollars for you. Wouldn’t want to risk a dollar on something as worthless as family, am I right?”

  “You were nothing but the son of some idiot knuckle-dragging firefighter. Without me, you’d have turned out just like your old man. I should have been paid to take a chance on you.”

  Brendan saw red, imagining the future that had been stolen away from him, the one he’d chosen for himself, the one with Gemma at his side from the start. “So you made sure you got paid, no matter how things turned out. You’re not a tenth of the man my father was, Jimmy. Look at you, you small, desperate, little tyrant, resorting to stealing a dead man’s house from your own sister, and running a harmless old woman into an early grave just so you could say you won.”

  “Oh, Jimmy.” His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Please say you didn’t do it.”

  Jimmy muttered a curse under his breath and threw his napkin on his plate, shoving himself to his feet. “Fucking ungrateful family. Don’t call me the next time you need help.”

  Brendan leaned forward, pulling his mother into his arms. She bent her head toward him, weeping into his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t. She’s my responsibility. She always has been. You can go back to Chicago and forget we ever existed.”

  “With f
ucking pleasure,” Jimmy snapped, before storming out of the restaurant. And Brendan was left on his own with his mother, just as he’d always been.

  “Come on, Mom. Don’t cry. We don’t need the house. You’ll be okay, I’ll take care of you.” Seemed nothing much had changed since he was twelve. He was still reassuring his mother that everything would be okay, he’d make sure of it.

  But his mother’s response was not what it once would have been. She abruptly sat back, looking up at him with red, watery eyes. “I want my house back,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “That was your father’s house. He left it to me. To you boys. It’s supposed to be yours.”

  “I know, Mom, but it’s okay.”

  “Can you get it back?” she pressed. “With, I don’t know, lawyers or something?”

  “Uh, maybe?” In truth, there might be something he could do, but it would take his mother’s cooperation, her willingness to turn on Jimmy, which he’d never thought he could count on. “I can look into it and see. But, Mom, you’d have to testify that Jimmy did this without your knowledge. That he tricked you. That he lied to you. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Her mouth wobbled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. But there was also a tiny flicker of anger in her eyes, the first spark of anything he’d seen there in years. “I want my house back,” she said, low and fierce. “I want your house back.”

  “Then I’ll help you get it back, Mom.” He pulled her into a hug, feeling her thin shoulders shaking against him. He wasn’t fooling himself. Mom would always need to be taken care of. But right now, fired by a mother’s righteous anger, she wanted vindication. She hadn’t been able to do anything about losing her husband. And she hadn’t been able to do anything about Harry’s betrayal. But this she could do something about. And he could help her. If that’s what she needed, he’d go to the ends of the earth to make it happen for her.

  As he held his mother, absorbing her tears and anger, he thought about Gemma, about the power that he’d unwittingly helped to strip away from her. Well, he couldn’t turn back the clock and do it differently, but maybe there was something he could do to put control of her future back in her own hands. If it made her happy—even if that happiness didn’t include him anymore—he’d go to the ends of the earth to make that happen, too.

  Chapter Forty

  “I can’t get over how warm the ocean is down here,” Jess said, wringing the salt water out of her hair over one shoulder.

  “It’s like a bath.” Livie wrapped her beach towel more securely around her waist.

  Her sisters’ voices floated back to Gemma as she followed them up the winding path from the beach to the house. It was bordered on either side with lush tropical flowers, and the shade from the trees felt good after baking in the sun on the beach. A warm breeze dried the water from her skin as she walked, leaving her feeling refreshed and new. These days had been perfect. Spending time with her sisters in paradise had been just what she needed as she began the terrifying process of staring down the rest of her life.

  Already it wasn’t quite so scary. Yesterday, Jess had gotten her laptop out and they’d spent some time researching culinary schools. There were plenty of great programs right in New York, and if she went full time, it wouldn’t even take that long. Gemma had to admit to feeling a frisson of excitement as she read through the course listings and saw some of the places their graduates interned. Her excitement was tempered a bit when she saw the price tag, but Livie wouldn’t let her worry about that yet. Right now was just for dreaming. Practicalities would come later.

  Tomorrow morning, they’d fly home, and then it would be time to start dealing with the real world. It would also be time to face the mess she’d left behind. But one thing at a time.

  When they got back to the cool, shady patio, Gemma saw a missed call icon on her phone, which she’d left by the pool this morning. For the first day, Brendan had called constantly. She declined every one. But this time it wasn’t Brendan; it was Kendra.

  It only rang once before Kendra picked up.

  “There you are. Now I’ve got Tuesday at two or Wednesday at eleven, but he’s got a lunch meeting on Wednesday, so that would be a hard exit time.”

  “Kendra, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your sit-down with Carlos. Do you want to do it Tuesday or Wednesday? Personally, I’d say Tuesday.”

  “Carlos your boss?”

  “Of course Carlos my boss. Who else?”

  Gemma squeezed her eyes closed. “Kendra, you know this is Gemma, right? Why would I need to meet with Carlos? Does he have another dinner party coming up?”

  “No, this is about the investment, you idiot.”

  She was starting to feel like she and Kendra were having two entirely different conversations, and she wasn’t even sure what hers was about, never mind Kendra’s. “What investment?”

  “Carlos’s investment,” Kendra said with exaggerated patience. “In the bar.”

  “Kendra—”

  “Wait. You’ve talked to Brendan, right?”

  Brendan? “What the hell has Brendan got to do with anything?”

  Kendra sighed. “So you haven’t talked to him?”

  “Um, we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now. Maybe you’d better start from the beginning.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’d better. So Brendan called me and told me your dad decided to close the bar.”

  “And Brendan’s buying the building. Did that traitor tell you that part?”

  “Yeah, he did, Drama Queen. Just listen, will you?”

  Gemma sank down onto a chaise lounge. When Jess and Livie motioned to find out what was going on, she waved them off and they retreated to the house to rummage for lunch. “I’m listening. Go ahead.”

  “He isn’t buying the building.”

  “What?”

  “He called me to see if he could talk to Carlos about investing in the bar. So I worked my magic, and yes, Carlos is going to invest in the bar.”

  Gemma blinked in disbelief and fury. It turned out a few days in paradise hadn’t quite taken the edge off her anger and resentment. “So Brendan just waltzed in there and set this up with Carlos? He didn’t even ask me first?”

  “You just said you’re not speaking to him.”

  Okay, fine, Kendra had a point. He had called. She just hadn’t answered. “Still, he had no right to talk to Carlos about my bar.”

  “No, I did that part. Because I’m, you know, family. It was Brendan’s idea, but I put together the business plan, and I pitched it to Carlos. As far as investments go, it’s a little small-time for him, but he’s in, because he listens to me and he does what I say.”

  “How did you write a business plan?”

  “Hello? I did go to college.”

  “You dropped out after three semesters.”

  “Yeah, but while I was there, I paid attention. And I pay attention to all of Carlos’s business shit, too. I’ve learned a thing or two.”

  “So...” She had to pause and shake her head to clear it. “Carlos wants to invest in the bar? Our bar? I don’t understand.”

  “You need an infusion of cash. He’ll give it to you in return for a cut of the profits. He’s going to want to make a few changes. Come up with a concept for the place...you know, something other than ‘we’re really old.’ Do some renovations to freshen the place up, update the cocktail menu and bring it into the twentieth century, expand the beer list, that sort of stuff. You guys can work it all out at your meeting. So Tuesday or Wednesday?”

  For a minute, everything vanished. The big white house, the glittering pool, the cove off in the distance... Gemma couldn’t see any of it. All she could see was everything she wanted suddenly handed to her.

  The problem was, in the course of the past few days, she’d picked up
something else, and now her hands were full. She was going to have to set something down.

  “Kendra, I have to call you back.”

  “But the meeting—”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I’m home, I promise.”

  “Wait—where are you?”

  “St. Croix.”

  “St. Croix?”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story. But we’re flying home tomorrow. Jess has to get back to work and Livie’s got school.”

  “So—”

  “I promise, I’ll call. I just... I need a minute. A lot has happened.” Her whole life had been tipped sideways, and now it was tipping back in the other direction. She was dizzy with it, and she had no idea which way to turn. But one thing she knew for certain. “Kendra, I have to go talk to my sisters.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Jess, I don’t think I thanked you for this.”

  Gemma bumped her sister’s shoulder as the three of them waited in line for a taxi at LaGuardia airport.

  “You did.” Jess grinned. “But you can do it again if you want.”

  She snagged Jess’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you. Thanks for taking time from work. And you, Livie, for bailing on classes and flying all the way across the country to hold my hand while I melted down.”

  “You owe me one,” Livie said. “This time I was the one with the fake dead grandmother.”

  “So,” Jess said. “What are you gonna do?”

  “I need to talk to Dad first.”

  “Makes sense. Just remember, Livie and I are behind you one hundred percent, no matter what you decide.”

  “I know. And thank you.” She really did have the best sisters. “I texted Teresa. She said they’re on City Island with Richie right now.”

  Livie held out her hand for Gemma’s bag. “Go. We’ll meet you back at the house. We can hang out tonight before I have to fly back.”

  Spring seemed to have finally arrived in earnest while they’d been away. Or maybe it had been coming on for weeks and she just hadn’t noticed it. As the cab drove across the low, green-painted, steel bridge to City Island, Gemma lowered the window and let the soft, cool air hit her face and clear her head. She had a lot to do now that she was back, but Dad came first.