Make Your Move

by Laura Heffernan

  “I don’t need this place,” I said, not quite understanding. “I live upstairs.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” she said dryly. “What I mean is, before the wedding, I signed a deed transferring ownership of the entire property to you. Consider it a gift.”

  My mouth fell open. “But why? How? I love you, but Nana, that’s too much.”

  “No, it’s exactly right,” Michael said. “Under Massachusetts law, a marriage invalidates any existing wills. We didn’t want you to lose out if your grandmother got sick before we had a chance to have our lawyer draw up new documents. Which very nearly happened.”

  “You were going to inherit the property anyway,” Nana said. “But if I died without a new will, the house would’ve gone to Michael and your mother. Reviewing all our assets will take time. I couldn’t risk you losing out on what’s rightfully yours.”

  “It’s not rightfully mine. It’s your house. You bought it,” I said.

  “Yes, and you’ve taken care of me.”

  “Because I love you.”

  “And I’m giving you this gift because I love you,” she said. “Neither Michael nor your mother needs a two-family house in Boston. Your brother will be taken care of in the updated will. Renting out my unit will give you steady income, which you can use to cover your personal expenses while launching your own business. The place needs some work, but we’ve set aside money to help you out with that.”

  “I can’t take your money,” I said.

  “It’s not up for discussion,” Michael said. “We will be deeply insulted if you don’t accept this thank-you. Also, it’s finished. The deed can’t be undone, and neither can the money transfer into your bank account this morning.”

  He held out an envelope. With shaking hands, I slit the top and slid a single sheet of paper out. The language was simple: I, Rose Lynn Hendrickson, do hereby transfer the property located at 253 Beech Street, Revere, Massachusetts, to my granddaughter, Shannon O’Rourke, in consideration of years of love and affection and personal assistance. The document was signed, dated the day before the wedding, witnessed by Michael, and notarized. In a daze, I looked back and forth from Nana and Michael to the paper multiple times.

  Finally, I said, “Mom doesn’t know about this, does she?”

  “Wouldn’t matter if she did,” Michael said. “That’s a copy. The original has already been filed with the Registry of Deeds.”

  “Don’t worry about your mom,” Nana said. “She’s getting the bakery, which is worth plenty. She’ll probably turn it into some kind of hippie health food store, but thankfully I’ll be dead and won’t know about it. Along with her shop in Florida, her hands will be plenty full.”

  Unable to resist, I jumped up and hugged them both. “I can’t believe this. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be out by the end of the month. You can convert the place to condos and sell this unit, sell the whole thing, or find a tenant. No matter what you choose, you should have enough money to focus on your own game company, if that’s what you want.” She patted my arm. “And, Shannon, if that’s not what you want—you don’t have to start your own business. You can find another job or accept the promotion or go backpacking through Europe. You only get one life. Do whatever will make you happy.”

  Emotion overwhelmed me, so it took a moment before I could respond. “You have no idea what this means to me. I can hardly believe it.”

  “Believe it,” she said. “Now finish your food so you can help us pack.”

  Always practical. That was my Nana.

  * * * *

  After leaving Nana’s apartment, I went straight for my phone and texted Ryan.

  Me: Hey. You won’t believe what just happened. Are you free for a drink?

  Ryan: How soon can you meet me?

  He named an Irish pub roughly halfway between work and my apartment.

  Me: I can go to you. It’s no big deal.

  Ryan: It’s good. They have trivia later.

  Ryan: I’m meeting Tessa.

  Ryan: For a date.

  Me: Cody’s sister, Tessa? Excellent!

  Ryan: Yeah. It’s new. We got to talking after the focus group. But I’m hopeful.

  A huge smile split my face in two at the last message. Tessa had things rough with Preston’s deadbeat father; she deserved someone who made her happy. As far as I knew, she hadn’t dated anyone seriously since the boy was born two years ago. Good for them.

  Me: <3 <3 <3 <3

  Me: I can be there in 20, as long as there isn’t a game.

  Although I’d never been a big baseball fan, shortly after moving to Boston I’d discovered that it behooved me to check the Red Sox’s schedule before taking public transit. Fans packed the trains before and after each home game, increasing travel time significantly. Sometimes walking took less time, especially when the Yankees were in town.

  Today, however, the schedule favored me: About fifteen minutes later, I sat ensconced in a booth. When he arrived, Ryan threw back a couple of shots while I sipped a whiskey and soda.

  “How’s Zoe?” I asked.

  “She’s great, and you know I’ll talk about my darling dog all day and night, except for right now. Tell me what happened.”

  With a grin, I filled him in on the details of my meeting with Jameson and Nana’s very surprising gift. His eyes grew rounder by the second. When I got to the end, I asked, “How have things been for you?”

  “Eh,” he said. “No one seems to know what to say to me. Justin thought all transpeople were drag queens, which concerns me on several levels. But he wasn’t a dick about me correcting him.”

  “Good. If anyone gives you a hard time, take the company to the cleaners.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something management would say,” he pointed out.

  “You’re not going to tell on me,” I said. “Besides, I haven’t decided whether to accept Jameson’s extremely generous offer yet.”

  Ryan asked, “What’s the alternative?”

  “Part of me wants to take my savings and make a go of running my own business. The rental income from Nana’s place will help. Thing is, I’m not sure I’m ready to go out on my own yet. I don’t have much name recognition, and there’s only one game ready to sell. I had another in the works, but…” I blinked a few times before waving that thought away with one hand. “Anyway, I could make it work for a little while. I met a lot of distributors at the convention who might help. At the same time, BGG has better contacts than I do. They’ve got vendor relationships; they can get me into conventions. And I keep coming back to something Jameson said during our talk: I can change the corporate culture from the inside.”

  “Then why are we sitting here? It sounds like you know what to do.”

  “Can I really make a difference? Will anything change? I put up with sexual harassment for years. The executive game designer reports to the board, but I wouldn’t have hiring or firing authority. It would be easier for me to just put this entire experience behind me and move on.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “But easy isn’t always better.”

  “I know. If I go, who will fight for the other non-cishet white dudes? The people of color, the queers, the women.”

  “Take a step back for a minute,” Ryan said. “I appreciate you wanting to fix the company, but what’s best for Shannon? What do you want to do?”

  I stared at my drink for a long time, considering the question. Making games had always been my dream. But making games for adults, not kids. I wanted to make the kind of games my friends and I enjoyed playing, games like The Haunted Place or Speak Easy. It had taken years of dreaming and waiting before feeling adventurous enough to make that first game. If I took the job Jameson offered, it would mean long hours. Lots of late nights and early mornings, which translated to less time with Nana.


  Ever since I started, Jameson had been the first person to get to work in the morning, the last to leave. We frequently received emails from him in the middle of the night. The big boss couldn’t show up for work every morning at nine because she needed waffles with her granny on the way in. Would there be time for me to create anything of my own?

  Finally, I met Ryan’s eyes. The answer was as obvious as his nose ring. “I want to start my own company, create a positive work environment from the ground up instead of cleaning up someone else’s mess. And I want you to be my partner.”

  His eyes lit up. “Do you mean it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do. We’re stronger as a team. I’ve got one game ready to distribute and a second…close enough. Meanwhile, you can work on marketing and advertising to get the word out.”

  “That sounds amazing!”

  “Now that Nana’s given me the house, I don’t have rent or a mortgage payment. I can rent out the entire downstairs. Along with my savings, we should be okay for a while.” In time, I could start the search for another roommate, but my poor heart couldn’t stand the thought at the moment. One thing at a time. “We can even work out of my apartment in the beginning to save money.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got some money saved, too.”

  “Let’s do this. Quiltbag Gaming? Rainbow Gaming?”

  “What about Gaming Plus? For the + at the end of LBGT+.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “I love it.”

  “I can’t wait to get started.” He raised his glass, and we clinked. “Cheers!”

  I smiled at my friend across the table. “Thanks. I’ve missed you. Now, get out your phone because I am way behind on my Zoe pictures.”

  Chapter 22

  “Be yourself. Everybody else is taken. Everyone thinks Oscar Wilde said that. He didn’t, but it’s still good advice.” —Nana

  The next morning, I gave my two weeks’ notice. Jameson was understandably surprised, but supportive of my decision. Bonus: The company would pay out the weeks of paid time off that I’d accrued but never used over the years. The additional cash made me feel even better about starting Gaming Plus.

  That night, my friends came over for some much needed board-gaming. My brain welcomed the distraction to keep me from nursing my heartache over Tyler. An afternoon of cleaning and baking made me feel much better. I didn’t have any answers, but at least I got a break from worrying over the questions swirling around my head.

  “Tell me about your new game,” Gwen said as she settled down at the table with a diet cola. “Speakeasy?”

  “Speak Easy. Two words.” Thinking about the new game reminded me of Tyler, which was the last thing I wanted to do. And yet, as avid gamers, I needed Gwen and Cody’s perspective at some point.

  I went to get the box containing Speak Easy out of my office. Before the game went to play testers, it needed at least two hundred fifty words and phrases to be used as passcodes. I’d taken to carrying a stack of note cards in my bag so I could add new ones at any time. People could add their own, and once Holly made the app we could add words at will, but to start, I needed a decent amount of variety. For the initial release, the words and phrases should be largely 1920s-themed, so I was nowhere near my goal.

  “It’s not ready to be played yet,” I said. “But I can show you what I’ve got and see what you think.”

  Gwen and Cody joined me at the table, both wearing looks of excitement. Knowing how much they enjoyed my last game made me much more confident about sharing this one. My friends loved me and wanted me to succeed. They weren’t going to rip the game apart.

  “Essentially, one player is the owner of the speakeasy,” I said. “The other players are people who want to come get a drink, but they have to guess the passcode. One person is secretly an undercover cop. If they can stop the other players from guessing the code, no one can get into the club and they all get arrested when the cops arrive. If the speakeasy patrons figure out the code, then they can hide inside and police will drive right by without seeing them.”

  “Love the theme,” Gwen said. “How does the undercover cop stop people from guessing?”

  “At the very beginning, after the owner selects the code from one of three drawn cards, and they place it faceup in the middle of the table. The cop is allowed to look before the owner takes the card back. Then he tries to stop everyone else from guessing by asking questions to lead people in the wrong direction.”

  “Interesting,” Cody said. “I’m guessing there’s a time limit?”

  “Yeah, the low-tech game will come with an egg timer. The app will include a timer, which can be adjusted to change the difficulty.”

  “Excellent!” Gwen’s eyes danced. “So if I’m the cop and I stop everyone from guessing the word, I win?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “The revelers get one chance to unmask you. If they do, they still win.”

  “Sounds cool. I like that there’s something for everyone to do, even if they don’t have a special role,” Cody said. “That makes it a little more interesting than Werewolves.”

  “Right. You still have to figure out the passcode. That part is cooperative. And I’m working on some other special roles.” This was the time to mention Tyler’s involvement, but it hurt too much to think about him. I’d left the role sheet we’d worked on in my room, not even wanting them to see the artwork, as beautiful as it was.

  Gwen asked, “How many does it play?”

  “Four to ten at the moment,” I said. “If the Kickstarter gains enough interest, I may do expansions with additional roles. And I’m also going to make a pure social deduction version. First, I want to get the details of this ironed out, make sure I have enough words, and get started on the app.”

  “Holly’s not doing the app?” Cody asked.

  “She’ll help once the baby’s born. But I know enough about the basics that I can start on my own.”

  Creating apps frustrated me endlessly, which made working on this one exactly what I needed to take my mind off how much I missed Tyler. I hadn’t seen him since the day he moved out. When I texted him to say thank you for the drawings left behind and to apologize for upsetting him, he never replied. The silence hurt.

  Cody spoke, breaking into those thoughts. “And it’s cool that you’ll have income now without needing the nine-to-five job.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” The thought of Nana moving out still made my heart ache, but I knew it would be best for her.

  “We realize this is probably a sore subject.” Gwen settled into the seat across from me. I refused to look at the empty chair to her left, where Tyler should have been sitting. “But have you thought about what you want to do with Nana’s apartment?”

  “Going to start charging everyone who asks me that,” I replied with a smile. “My brother called me this afternoon to talk about setting up a trust or giving him the lower unit at a ‘family rate.’ Then Mom called five minutes after he hung up.”

  Cody laughed and turned to his wife. “Told you so.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know yet. I’ll probably rent it out eventually, but I can get more money by doing repairs first. It’s a question of how much I’d have to spend versus how much extra rent I’ll get. I’m meeting with a Realtor next week.”

  Gwen and Cody exchanged a long look. Finally, Cody tilted his head upward, barely, and Gwen broke eye contact.

  She said, “We have a proposition for you.”

  “Oh, yeah? You guys want to move in?” While posting Nana’s apartment online and sorting through dozens of applicants to weed out the deadbeats, the scam artists, the racists, and other deplorable candidates didn’t appeal to me at all, living above my best friends most certainly did.

  She smiled and nodded. “The thing is, we could use the space. Cody and I are thinking about starting a family.”r />
  “Oh my goodness, that’s amazing! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!” Jumping up, I raced around the table to hug my friend.

  Cody laughed. “Don’t get too far ahead of us. We’re not there yet. But we were talking about having some additional space. I thought maybe we could take some of the burden off you and do the work on fixing the place up in exchange for a discount on the rent.”

  “Also, you’re two blocks from the beach,” Gwen said.

  Cody rushed to say, “I mean, we’ll pay the current market value. Just not the market value if it were all fixed up. You save money on labor, we save on rent.”

  It all sounded too good to be true. At the same time, I was smart enough to know a good thing when I saw it. “How soon can you move in?”

  By the time we finished talking about the logistics, the game spread out on the table before us, and Holly and Nathan were knocking on the front door. I let them in, happily sharing the news that I wouldn’t have to sell or go through another long, drawn-out process of finding acceptable tenants.

  “That’s awesome!” Holly said. “Now we’ll have three babysitters in one building.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “As if I won’t be banging down your door to hug that little cutie as soon as she arrives.”

  As we passed the food around the table, I looked at my amazing group of friends. Maybe life had taken some twists and turns lately, but having everyone here reminded me that some things were still pretty great, too.

  We chose our starting positions, took coins from the bank based on our player order, and began to play. Always the most competitive one, Gwen paid to go first. After so many years, Holly and I usually let her have it. Not Nathan and Cody. Gwen’s father swore up and down he hadn’t let her win a game since she was a little kid, and Gwen backed him up. Cody and Gwen had met as competitors, and their love never dampened the “game hate.” They strove to beat each other, trash-talking from the second someone picked a game until we replaced the lid and put the box back on the shelf. Game hate stayed at the table, and their relationship worked for them.