Gabe seated himself awkwardly behind his desk again, feeling as if he were meeting a stranger whose motivations he didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t so far from the truth. “First time you’ve been here?”
“First time in years. Back before the flood, it was quite the tourist destination. I’m not sure any of the towns up here have recovered.”
“They really haven’t,” Gabe said, glad to be on familiar footing. “But we’re working on some ideas.” He studied his father, who looked as uncomfortable as he felt. “What brings you up here? You know you could have just called if you needed to speak with me.”
“I know. But I wanted to talk to you in person.” Robert leaned forward a little in his chair. “I have a proposal for you.”
“Oh?”
“A business proposal actually. Given how the grant application turned out—”
“Wait. What? You’ve got news on the grant application?”
Robert looked confused. “You haven’t heard. When I got a call from Winnie, I assumed you’d already been notified. She was open to considering your application, but the rest of the committee didn’t feel it was fair to allow you to submit past the fall due date. They’ve pushed it to the spring. You’ve got a good chance of winning the grant from what I hear, but the earliest anyone will decide on it is May or June. And from what I understand—”
“—that’s going to be far too late. You’re right. The injunction is only temporary. And even getting a historic places designation isn’t going to be enough in the long term.” Gabe sat back in his chair, the wind knocked out of him. He’d been relying on the grant to make the updates on the houses. Had all their work been for nothing?
But then he realized that Robert had led with a business proposal, so surely he hadn’t driven up here to deliver bad news in person, especially bad news that he thought Gabe had already received. “What’s the proposal? Since clearly we are going to need other ideas.”
“Right.” Robert pulled out a hardback portfolio from his bag and slid it across the desk to Gabe. “This belongs to a young architect who has been working for me for the past couple of years, Astrid Elison.”
Gabe flipped it open. The images inside were pretty standard for a college architecture graduate: renderings and diagrams of her designs interspersed with black-and-white photos that helped convey the feeling of the structures. But they were arranged in a way that told a story, as much a picture book or a graphic design example as an architectural portfolio. In Gabe’s work at the nonprofit, he’d seen more than a few of these, and he couldn’t help but be impressed.
But he still didn’t know what it had to do with him. He said as much.
“Astrid’s focus is on sustainable architecture and multiuse spaces, but she’s particularly interested in how that intersects with historical preservation and city planning. Which is part of the reason she approached me for a job.” Robert smiled. “Hounded me is a more apt description, actually. She is a finalist for an architecture grant based on her portfolio, but she needs a subject for the final round of the grant competition. I mentioned something about Jasper Lake.”
Gabe’s eyebrows flew up. “She wants to come here and do what?”
“Well, that’s what you’ll need to work out with her, if you’re interested in going forward.”
“Why isn’t she here talking to me herself?”
“I would be partially underwriting the project since she would continue to be my employee. And if we can come to an agreement on something that would be beneficial for the town, Astrid, and my firm, I’m willing to make a substantial investment.” Robert smiled faintly. “And . . . I didn’t really want to share the second conversation I’ve had with you in decades with a twenty-two-year-old.”
Gabe couldn’t help but return the smile, though his mind was whirring. “What if she doesn’t get the grant?”
“If it makes financial sense, I’ll still invest. But we’re months away from that determination. These things take time to set into motion.”
Gabe leaned back in his seat. There was still something missing in the idea; Astrid surely wasn’t the only one interested in sustainable architecture and preservation in this day and age. They needed a hook, a new idea, if she had the slightest chance of winning the grant. And then it came to him, so obvious that he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. “How does she feel about technology?”
Robert’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”
“What if her proposal was to demonstrate a remote-working community? It fits into the sustainable model because it’s a fully walkable/bikeable town. Requires no commuting, which consumes no fossil fuels and creates no pollution. Coworking spaces. Multiuse buildings. ‘Work virtually in the most beautiful town in Colorado.’”
Robert’s expression turned thoughtful. “This isn’t something you just came up with.”
“No. Kendall did. We were spitballing a couple of weeks ago, and she floated it as an idea to attract the younger set to the town. Low cost of living for start-ups. Work-life balance. As she said, millennials are into that, and if we’re going to survive, my generation is the one who will have to decide to come back to small-town living. And it’s also the generation that patronizes yoga studios and mountain bike shops and organic markets.”
“Which brings more retail to town . . .”
“Which then makes us more of a fully functioning, self-sufficient community, not as dependent on other towns for our goods and services,” Gabe finished.
Robert sat with the idea for a long moment, then smiled. “I like it. Let me propose it to Astrid and see what she says. And if she’s interested, I’ll put her in touch with you.”
“I have one request though.”
“What’s that?”
“I want Kendall Green on the design team.”
Another smile played at the edges of his father’s face. “And would this be for personal or practical reasons?”
“A little of both, to be honest. Her specialty is historic preservation and blending architectural styles. Trust me, we want someone like her helping us.”
“Are you asking me to give her a job?”
It wasn’t what Gabe had been thinking, but now that Robert said it, it sounded like an ideal solution. He hadn’t been sure she would come back if he asked her, and the salary he could offer her as a Jasper Lake employee couldn’t compare to what she was making as a designer. But if she was instead working for Robert and only tangentially with him . . . He waited for the familiar smack in the head that had met him every time he tried to contact Kendall, but it was conspicuously absent. Apparently God was okay with this course of action. Or at least Gabe hoped He was, now that he’d already put it out there.
“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
Robert held Gabe’s gaze for a long moment. “When we get things underway . . . if and when I make the decision to invest and we move forward . . . I’ll contact her. But, Gabe . . . understand this. It’s not a quick fix. It will take a year to break ground. Maybe ten before we see the full expression of the idea, and maybe even longer before we see if it’s successful. Are you willing to be in this for the long haul? You may not be mayor by that point, but Jasper Lake is going to need someone to see it through to the end. Are you sure you’re that person?”
Even six months ago, he wasn’t sure how he would have answered that question. Jasper Lake, the mayoral race, had been something to do because he’d lost his way, wasn’t sure where God was leading him next. It seemed his season in Jasper Lake was not to last a year or two but a decade. With or without Kendall.
Slowly Gabe nodded. “If we can make this happen, I’m in it to the end.”
Robert stood and offered his hand. “Then I’ll talk to Astrid and have her get in touch. From what I know about her, she’ll take your idea as a unique challenge . . . and I think it gives her a good chance of winning the grant as well.”
Gabe stood too and shook his dad’s hand. “Tha
nks for coming in person.” He watched his dad pick up his bag and turn on his heel. Before Robert reached the door, Gabe called, “You know, it’s almost lunch. I don’t suppose you want to grab a bite to eat? The cantina down the street has fantastic barbecue.”
Robert turned, surprised. Then he nodded. “I never turn down barbecue.”
Gabe closed down his computer and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and his keys from the drawer. Then he grinned and tossed the keys back. “Never mind. It’s walkable.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
KENDALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT to leave the Pasadena house, but as she made one last trip through the empty interior, she realized once more what she’d always known: it was just a house.
And yet it had been more than that. A place of shelter. An escape. A waypoint when she needed it, wasn’t sure of her next moves.
The one thing it had never been was a home.
Satisfied that she hadn’t forgotten anything and that it was in the same condition as when she’d moved in, she stepped out onto the stoop and locked the front door for the last time. All her personal items and furniture had been moved into the firm’s storage facility, pending the signing of her new lease when she returned from her Christmas vacation in Colorado. She’d finally decided on a place—a much smaller but just as charming foursquare in nearby Glendale—but the owner was dragging her feet on sending over the lease paperwork. Kendall had left her a message telling her to email the paperwork when she had it and she would overnight it back. She wasn’t taking any chances on losing her new start.
And yet nothing about that new start was as nerve-racking and gut-fluttering as this trip back to Denver. Bill and Nancy had been texting her almost nonstop for the past week, confirming her arrival at the airport, telling her that they had her room ready, double-checking that she hadn’t developed any food allergies since she moved out. It was both funny and heartening that they seemed as nervous about this reunion as she felt.
She hadn’t yet decided if she was going to spend some of the next two weeks in Jasper Lake. She hadn’t heard anything from Gabe in weeks, and the last email had just been to check in and let her know that her houses were okay, the injunction still stood, and he was waiting for grant decisions before they could do anything more about the permits on her houses.
Nothing personal. Nothing to make her think she was on his mind as much as he continued to be on hers. For all she knew, he was dating someone in town. More than likely, actually. There weren’t that many young singles in Jasper Lake, and it seemed to her that they would pair up quickly.
Still, the idea of him with Rebecca, for example, made her stomach clench.
“Easy there. You’re going to have to get used to that idea. You can’t avoid Jasper Lake forever.” She’d been paralyzed when it came to the idea of selling the houses, but she couldn’t deny that they weren’t doing her or anyone else any good sitting there vacant. It was a miracle that they had stayed as well-preserved as they were. Houses were like people: lack of activity made them deteriorate.
She mulled over the thought the entire way to the airport and while she was sitting at the gate waiting for her flight. By the time she walked down the Jetway to board the 737, she had decided that she was going to bite the bullet and get in touch with Gabe. He was the executor of the trust, after all, and they needed to decide what they were going to do with the houses. Even if seeing him would stir up all sorts of feelings she had no business experiencing. Even if he told her that he was in a relationship with someone else.
As soon as she was on board, she pulled out her phone and sent a text message: Headed to Colorado for two weeks to spend Christmas with Bill and Nancy. We should probably meet and discuss what we’re going to do with the houses.
And then she put her phone on airplane mode so she didn’t have to deal with the reply until she landed.
She spent the two-and-a-half-hour flight flipping through magazines she’d picked up at the airport’s newsstand, things that required nearly no attention on her part, considering that she was instead hyper-focused on what awaited her in Denver. As soon as the plane touched down on the runway—after the same bumpy descent that had met her last time—her stomach started jumping nervously. When the Fasten Seat Belt sign went off, she turned off airplane mode.
Immediately messages started ringing through.
She held her breath, expecting one of them to be Gabe, but his name never came up on the list. Instead, they were alternating messages from Bill and Nancy.
On our way to the airport.
We’re here. Just let us know when you land.
Have you landed yet?
A smile came to Kendall’s face and she tapped out a reply to both of them: Just landed. No checked bags. Should be out in 20-25.
It was a new experience, having someone anxiously awaiting her arrival. And she couldn’t deny that it warmed her from the inside out. So this was what it was like to have a family. And even though she was sure she was putting too much pressure on this trip to Colorado, she couldn’t help but be glad she’d taken the leap.
She had only been out of the airport doors on the arrival concourse for three minutes when the new burgundy SUV pulled up at the curb. Kendall blinked as Nancy and Bill leapt out of the front seats. Nancy made it to her first, enfolding her in a tight hug that seemed to say she’d been afraid Kendall wouldn’t come. Bill took her suitcase and shoved it into the back of the vehicle, then came around for a much more restrained hug. “Ready to go?” he asked.
Nancy made for the rear door, but Kendall shook her head. “No, no. Kids sit in the back, right?” She grinned at them and slid in, settling her backpack next to her.
They climbed back in and pulled out into the airport return. Bill shot her looks in the rearview mirror, but Nancy turned fully around. “How was your flight? How was closing up the house in California? Was it hard?”
Kendall smiled. “The flight was fine. And leaving the house wasn’t as hard as I thought. I’m waiting for an email from my new landlord, in fact. I found an adorable house in Glendale that has room for an office and client meeting space, so I think I’ll be fine. It’s much more affordable, so that’s a relief.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind that we made plans while you’re here,” Bill said.
“Oh, of course not. I didn’t expect you to hang out with me the whole time,” Kendall said, even though she’d been hoping that very thing.
“No, silly,” Nancy said. “We mean we made plans for . . . or rather, with . . . you. We were able to get tickets to this year’s Christmas home tour. We went last year and it was lovely, all these beautiful homes in Belcaro and Bonnie Brae. This year’s tour is all historic remodels and restorations in University Park. We thought it might be right up your alley.”
“Oh! That sounds wonderful. Sophie and I did the Holiday Look In Home Tour last year in Pasadena to benefit the symphony.”
“You know, given your interest in historic architecture, you might find a lot to your liking here in Denver. There’s not a lot of Spanish and mission style here, but there’s plenty of mid-century and Craftsman. And if I’m not mistaken, those are your main interests.”
“Sophie is the mid-mod designer, and she’s no longer with me. But yes, I love my Craftsmans.” Especially the ones up in Jasper Lake, but she didn’t voice those thoughts. “I’m not sure I could ever leave California, though. I’m established there, well-known, and unfortunately that doesn’t really transfer across state lines. I’d have to start completely from scratch, and I’ve spent too long building my business to give it up now.”
“You sound like you’ve given it some thought,” Bill observed blandly.
She had . . . and she’d given it a fair amount of prayer, too . . . but that didn’t mean she would ever really do it. It didn’t make sense for her to pick up her life and move, unless there was a compelling reason to do so. She glanced reflexively at her phone. Gabe still hadn’t replied.
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But her future landlord had. She got momentarily distracted from Nancy’s explanation of why Denver was a wonderful place to live—forgetting that Kendall had spent most of her childhood there—and opened the message on her phone.
It was short, and the contents made her heart sink.
Dear Kendall,
I’m so sorry to do this to you at the last minute, but my tenants have decided to renew their lease for another two years. As they’ve already been with me for five and they’re currently occupying the house, I feel it’s only fair to give them the lease.
I hope that I haven’t put you in a bad position. Thank you for your understanding.
“Kendall, is something wrong?” Bill was looking at her with concern in the rearview mirror.
Kendall pressed the trash icon on the message. “No. Nothing’s wrong. Just a work email, sorry.”
“I certainly hope you’ll be able to relax a little while you’re here,” Nancy said tentatively. “From what you’ve told us, you work so hard.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to relax. I just needed to take care of a few last-minute things.” She dropped her phone into her backpack. “In fact, I’m done here. I’m all yours.”
“In that case,” Nancy said, “we thought we’d stop for lunch on the way home.”
Kendall smiled and said, “Lunch sounds great.” And she meant it.
Her enthusiasm lasted about four days.
It wasn’t that Bill and Nancy weren’t nice or loving or any of the things that parents should be. In fact, they were all of the things parents should be, including concerned, nosy, and insistent.
Kendall had made the mistake during the tour of homes—which was lovely and inspiring, in fact—of saying that she’d lost her place to stay in California, which then instigated a full-court press on Nancy’s part for Kendall to stay in Denver. Bill, on the other hand, was concerned about her financial solvency and whether or not she could survive if she had to start from scratch. Nancy was quick to offer up their place as a short-term solution. Kendall was quick to politely decline.
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