The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) (14 page)

“It’s one in the morning, what do you want?” Keaton growled. He was quiet for a second and then bolted upright in bed. “What? What the fuck happened?”

I sat up. I heard the panic in his voice and was suddenly concerned.

“I’m on the way.” He ended the call and leapt out of bed.

“Keaton what—”

“It’s Grams. I’ve got to go.” He cut me off and before I could ask or say anything else, Keaton was gone.

Chapter Eighteen

Keaton

Sitting in my truck seemed like the most logical thing for me to do. I did call Coach Long and told him I wouldn’t be at practice or the game. I hadn’t cried, yelled, or even really spoken since I left the hospital. I didn’t even care what happened to Felicia. She’d tried to reach for me after the doctor told us Grams died, but I wouldn’t let her touch me.

A heart attack.

The words swirled around my head like an F5 tornado. Grams was my whole world, but now I had nothing.

A light tap on my window caused me to turn my head. Harlow gave me a small smile.

Harlow.

I opened the door and stepped out. “Who called you?” Because I knew it wasn’t me.

“Meadow. Kyson called her.” Her eyes welled up. “Keaton, I’m so sorry. What do you need from me?” She touched my hand, but I moved away from her.

“I don’t need anything, but I have things to do.”

“Let me help you,” she said softly.

“I’ve got it. I’ll call you later.” I rushed away from her as fast as I could.

I didn’t want to be around anyone right now, and I headed into my apartment. I had to take a shower and head over to the funeral home.

“Damn,” I growled. Everything still spun around in my head. I stripped out of my clothes and turned the shower on full blast with only hot water.

I let the scalding hot water spray over me, and I tried to wash away the sadness and pain. It wasn’t working though. The woman who raised me, loved me, scolded me had left me. I still needed her. I only had twenty-five years with her, and it hadn’t been enough time.

When the water began to cool, I decided I should get out and face the world. But I didn’t want to. If I stayed here in the shower, maybe it wouldn’t be true.

“I’m just being a coward,” I told myself out loud. I cut the water off and began my day.

“Nothing.” The man seemed shocked.

“She had a motto: if you can’t see me when I’m alive there’s no point when I’m dead.” I told him. Grams said it enough times that I knew what she wanted.

“And you’re in charge, correct?”

“Yes.” I handed over the power of attorney and the will to him. He quickly looked over everything. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I even had to give him those items.

“All right then.” He handed the stuff back to me.

“No visitation, no service; just a cremation.” I tried to sound professional, but my voice cracked.

“You want the ashes back to you, right?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Okay.” The man began to go over costs, which didn’t matter to me, and I wrote him a check. I had to get out of the funeral parlor. The walls seemed to be closing in on me.

Once I reached my truck, I had to shut my eyes tight to stop the burn of the tears. I would not cry. Grams didn’t want tears.

I opened my eyes, started the truck, and headed toward her house. I needed to inventory the house and see what to do with her stuff. She’d told me before, and in her will, to donate as much as I wanted to help those less fortunate.

When I pulled up to the house, I had to prepare myself to go inside. I knew it would be hard going in, knowing Grams wouldn’t be in there cooking or watching one of her game shows.

I unlocked the door and walked into silence. Erie would be the best way to describe the feeling I had when I shut the door. I slowly made my way to her bedroom. The bed was messed up, and I knew she would hate it. Her slippers were at the corner of her bed. Her robe gently lay on her bed chest at the end. I leaned against the doorframe, and my eyes landed on her nightstand. She had two pictures in frames that she loved: one of her wedding day and the other of my kindergarten graduation. I’d demanded to spike my hair that day, and I think I used a half a bottle of gel to get it to stay. But Grams beamed with pride no matter how ridiculous I looked that day.

“Where do I start?” I mumbled. Before I could answer my own question, my phone dinged, and I pulled it from my pocket.

I’m here for you. Call me when you want to talk.

I closed my eyes again. I couldn’t talk to Harlow right now. I needed to work on this first and then work on everything else piling up. Playoffs were coming up, not to mention I didn’t want to get behind in school.

I ignored the message and went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, thinking maybe I should make a list to get my ass in gear to clean out the house.

I heard the front door open, and my heart stopped, thinking it was Grams, but when I rushed toward the door, all I saw was…Felicia.

“Keaton.” She sounded sad and her eyes were bloodshot.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The rage started to boil in my blood. She didn’t belong here.

“I thought I could go into work, but they sent me home.” She sniffed.

“Why the fuck are you crying?” I knew she couldn’t care less.

“Keaton, I loved Grams. She’s like a mother to me.”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes at her lies. “All you ever did for her was leave me on the doorstep and steal from her.” I raised my voice with each passing word.

“Keaton.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve made a lot—”

“Of mistakes,” I finished for her. “Why don’t you come up with some different responses?”

“Son—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I yelled so loud it strained my vocal cords. “You don’t ever get to call me
son
. Do you understand me?”

Felicia hung her head, and the tears came faster. “Keaton, please calm down; you’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you? Bullshit.”

“Then stop yelling.” She raised her head and faced me. “I know what Grams meant to you. I know you’re hurting, and I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“Oh, so now you want to be a mother?” I scoffed. “I think you’re twenty-five years too late.”

She wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “Whether you like it to not, I’m your mother. I’ll never win mother-of-the-year, but I’m trying here. I’ve been clean for five months now, and that’s a record for me. I’m going to stick with it this time. I’m going to show you, Keaton. I won’t let you down.”

I tried my best not to laugh in her face, but I failed at it. “You’re a liar, and you always have been.”

“Listen—” She reached for me, but I moved from her grasp.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry.” She took several steps back. “I want us to try again, Keaton. You know this is what Grams wanted.”

“Stop saying her name,” I seethed at her. “I want nothing to do with you. Now or ever. You mean nothing to me. You are nothing to me.”

Felicia closed her eyes and stiffened as if I was about to slap her, even though I would never. I might hate her, but Grams raised me right.

“You have two weeks to find another place to live.”

She gasped.

“What? Did you think you were going to stay here on my dime? Fuck that.”

“I won’t be getting a paycheck for at least another week. It’s not enough to get a place.”

“Not my problem. You’re fucking lucky I’m letting you stay two weeks. And one other thing,” I leaned down to her so we were nose-to-nose. “If you steal a single thing, I will throw your ass in jail.” I didn’t wait for her reply; I left.

I sat in my apartment with my head in my hands. I hadn’t slept a wink. Everyone sent me messages, and I didn’t answer a single one of them. There were even knocks on my door, but I left them unanswered, as well. There was no one I wanted to see.

I plugged my phone into the wall charger and headed off to take a shower. I missed practice and a game, but I wouldn’t be missing anymore. The playoffs were coming up in a week, and Grams wouldn’t like it if I missed any more than I already had.

When I finished getting ready. I checked my phone. Two things stood out at me. The first: Harlow’s texts.

I’m here if you need me.

I came over, but you must have been asleep.

I have a hot pizza if you want to come over.

When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I should go over there and talk to her. She was the one person, still alive, who meant the most to me.

I filed it in the back of my mind, adding on to the to-do list I had running around my head. I opened the second thing that caught my eye. An email from the attorney who did Grams will. In the email he told there was an attachment to the will, and I had to come pick up immediately.

I quickly called the office and one of the assistants told me I could come anytime to pick it up. Since I had no clue what it could be, I rushed over there.

My mind raced, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. Did Grams change her will? Dear Lord, did she add Felicia to it? The house was in my name so I could cross that off the list. Was she going to give her jewelry? Grams had a few pieces, but nothing major. I bet she’d left her money.

“Grams,” I sighed, getting out of the truck and going into the office building.

I told the older woman at the front desk who I was and what I was there for. She handed me a brown envelope.

“This it?”

She smiled and nodded.

I went out back to my truck and ripped open the envelope to find a small letter.

Mr. Jaco,

Your grandmother dropped this off to my office for you to receive after she passed.

My hands shook when I realized there, in Grams’ handwriting, was a letter she wrote to me.

Keaton Michael

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Part of me wanted to read it and part of me wanted to hide it away, never thinking about it again. I took a deep breath and opened the letter.

My dearest Keaton Michael,

Where do I begin? Maybe the beginning would be best. I never regretted taking you in. Yes, I did get very angry with Marco and Felicia for leaving, but because they should have been adults. You…you actually made this old woman’s golden years so much more pleasurable.

You were never a bad kid. You talked a lot, cracked a lot of jokes, and had the biggest heart. Above all, you always worked hard on any task you did.

I’m so proud of every goal you’ve set and reached. There is nothing you can’t do. You’re a successful hockey player, a college graduate, soon-to-be published author (well, depending on when you’re reading this you could be a bestseller already) and a great grandson.

Now, I want you to do me a favor because I’m sure you’re still being stubborn. I want you to make up with Felicia. Keaton Michael, she’s your mother and the only family you have left. Family is so important, and I know she has changed. Yes, it took her a long time to find herself, but everyone works at their own pace. Give her a chance and be the bigger person. Someone has to take the first step.

Also, please don’t run away from love. I’m not Dr. Phil, but your heart is big, and you will find someone to share your life with.