Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

I set the box down and push the table out of the way so I can gather up the fallen papers.

“Is that a manual for a VHS player? Those have been obsolete for decades.” Dillion bends to help me clean up the mess.

“Bee kept every manual for everything she ever bought, apparently. You can toss it into the box over there. That’s all for the burn pile. We’re going to have one hell of a bonfire when I’m finished going through her filing cabinets.”

“We can make s’mores and talk about the good old days when things didn’t break within six months of buying them.”

I smile, aware she was referencing Grammy Bee’s irritation with our disposable society. “She registered everything she could for a warranty. I remember when she took back a set of sheets she’d had for twenty years because the seam started ripping.”

“She had Tupperware from the seventies and made them replace it because the seal had gone on something! It was hilarious.”

“And embarrassing if you were in the store with her and she was making a fuss.”

Dillion chuckles and picks up another manual. This one for a toaster. Something falls out of it and flutters to the coffee table. “Oh man, did she even keep the receipts? I wonder what a toaster cost back in the day.”

We’re both laughing when her eyes suddenly go wide and she drops the manual and picks up the receipt. “Oh my gosh, Van. Look at this!” She holds it out to me.

I frown as I inspect what looks like a bond note from the sixties in the sum of $100,000. “Is this real? This can’t be real.”

“I don’t know. That was her bank.”

“Do you think it’s the only one?” We look at each other and then the pile of manuals on the floor.

We abandon the box and start leafing through them, shaking them out one at a time. Each manual contains a single bond note in various sums. Some are as small as five grand; others are worth as much as a hundred thousand. When we’re done with that pile, we go through the ones in the burn box and find even more.

We keep sifting through her files and eventually stumble on her stock portfolio. The most recent statement is from last year; the amount of money is staggering. We sit on the floor in the midst of the discarded papers and stare at the stack of bond notes. Some are in Grammy’s name, others in mine, Teagan’s, and Bradley’s. It makes me sad that he’s put himself in such a terrible situation when, if he’d just been patient, he would have known she hadn’t left him out. In some ways, I wish Grammy hadn’t made us play this game of hide-and-seek, but I understand why she did. She always wanted to bring us together.

“I had no idea about any of this. The stashes around the house, yes, but not this,” Dillion says softly. “I would have said something a long time ago if I’d known.”

“I know you would have. I thought the stashes around the house were going to help me clean this place up, but this could set us up for generations.”

“Are you going to share it with Teagan?” she asks.

I realize then what I’ve said, and how in my head I’ve included Dillion in the us. It’s what I want: for her and me to be something that lasts. But I don’t correct her, because I’m not sure where she’s at, and asking that when we’ve just stumbled on millions of dollars doesn’t seem like the best idea.

“She deserves her share, and maybe Bradley will one day too. Now we have exactly what we need to clean up the beach on this side.”

Dillion smiles. “You really want to do that?”

“All my best memories are wrapped up in this place.” And you, I want to say, but I don’t. “I want this to be a place my kids can come to, and theirs after that. If I can do things to help this community, I want to. Bee would want me to. I’m going to make some calls in the morning. See what’s possible.”

“After you go to the bank.”

“Right. After I go to the bank.”




The next morning I take the bond notes to the bank to see if I’m excited about nothing. It turns out that I’m excited for a very good reason. Millions of very good reasons.

I set up a meeting with a financial adviser for early the following week and stop by the town hall. I expect that I’ll have to set up a meeting, but the town councilor invites me straight into her office. I tell her what I want to do and how I’d like to get the beach back into shape so the community on this side of the lake can have a place to take their families, just like my grandmother did. With the promise of money to help fund the project, and a consistent budget to maintain it, the councilor seems to be on board.

If I can secure all the permits for things like public washrooms and new docks over the winter, we should be able to start the project as soon as the ice melts off the lake.

I don’t think it’s possible for anything to spoil my good mood. And then my phone rings.

I check the caller ID.

It’s my former boss.





CHAPTER 28

STAY FOR ME

Dillion

The office door swings open, and Van walks in. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans, a pale-blue T-shirt that has seen better days, and a black jacket. His hair is windblown, and his cheeks are flushed. Fall has settled over Pearl Lake, turning the leaves the color of fire.

My gaze finally meets his, and my smile drops. His eyes are wide, slightly manic. “Are you alone?” He closes the door behind him, a gust of crisp autumn air making the papers on my desk ruffle.