Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

“Nope. Gave me her big old innocent doe eyes and told me she didn’t know what I was talking about. She suggested that maybe there was a grant I applied for and didn’t realize I’d been awarded it, but it had to be her because there wasn’t anyone else who would do that for me.” I hold up a finger. “Wait. That’s not true. If my parents had the money, they would have given it to me, but it just wasn’t there. So I kept track of every single deposit she made, and when I finished school and got a job, I tried to pay her back, but she refused to take the money. It was so frustrating, because I wanted to give her back what I owed, but every time I tried, she’d find a way to give it right back to me, so when she needed someone to help with her will, I stepped up. She asked me to be the executor.”

“I wonder why she never asked me to do it.” The question is laced with threads of hurt.

“I know the answer to that. She was worried your dad would step in and try to take over. She knew that he hadn’t been smart with his finances after your mom passed. She’d even loaned him money a bunch of times to help with things, like your education.” It’s uncomfortable to tell him things like this. When I was young, I always felt like a bit of a voyeur when it came to Van and his family.

“I didn’t realize that. I mean, I guess it makes sense. I came out of college loan-free, but I assumed my parents had set money aside for it.”

“I think they had.”

“But my dad spent it.” Van drops his head and rubs the back of his neck.

I slip my arm around his waist and squeeze. “I’m sorry. This must be hard to hear.”

“It’s nothing I didn’t already suspect. I just didn’t realize it was this bad, or that my dad had been borrowing money from Grammy Bee.”

“I don’t know everything, Van, but I do know that Bee worried about what would happen to this place when she was gone, and she wanted you to have it because you valued it. So I went with her to Bernie’s, and I promised I would make sure it was you who got the cottage and the property. Bee treated me like I was one of her own, and to me she was family, so there’s no way I would ever touch what’s hers. Or what was hers. It was never mine to take.”

“You realize most people wouldn’t even think twice about skimming, even a little.”

“Oh, absolutely. But the thing is, when things got tight, I’d suddenly find money in my account that hadn’t been there. It’s like she knew before it even happened.” I pick another framed photo off the wall, this time one of Bee with her husband.

Van steps in closer, his chest brushing my shoulder. “This was taken on Grampy’s birthday. I think he turned sixty-five?”

“He passed away a couple of years later.” I flip the picture over and slide the backing out to reveal yet another envelope. I hand it to Van before I slide the backing into place again.

Van peeks inside the envelope and shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “This was his favorite outfit that my grandmother wore. Didn’t matter that it was ten years out of style; he freaking loved it when she wore it.”

“Back in the day when shoulder pads were an in thing.”

“She used to wear it every year on his birthday. I always tried to be here for that after he passed away, but it wasn’t easy once I started working full time. Getting a day off in the middle of the week could be a pain in the ass, so sometimes I’d have to come here after work.”

“And go back the same night so you could be at work the next morning.”

Van’s gaze shifts from the photo to me, his expression quizzical. “Yeah.”

“She told me about that. I’d always call and have my mom bring her—”

“—an apple pie,” Van finishes for me.

“From Boones,” we say at the same time.

“I could’ve eaten the entire thing in one sitting if I’d been allowed to.”

“But Bee liked to savor it, and you know how she was about sweets: loved them but hated them at the same time, because she didn’t have a ton of restraint when it came to moderation.”

“She’d portion the rest of the pieces out and put half of it in the freezer.” Van chuckles. “Except it didn’t work, and she’d end up digging them right back out the very next day.”

“I really miss her,” I whisper.

“Me too. More than I ever thought possible.” Van’s smile turns sad.

I wrap my arms around his waist, wishing that we didn’t have matching Bee-shaped holes in our hearts. He returns the embrace, strong arms circling my shoulders. He drops his head, lips pressing against the side of my neck. “Why didn’t I know you better when we were teenagers?”

“Because I was too busy with Tucker and trying to cut my roots so I could fly.” I tip my head up. “We were young. We weren’t supposed to know each other back then. And I just wanted something different than what I knew, so I went to the most opposite place I could.”

And in doing so, I left everything that was comfortable behind and tried to build a new life, with new people who were more refined, shinier, and polished. Although now I’m starting to see that the shiny veneer is just that. Underneath the layers of polish are regular people, with the same problems as everyone else; they just have prettier masks to hide behind.