The Right Guy - Liz Lovelock Page 0,2
hold on to her tiny frame and wish for these moments to never stop.
“Ah you’re kind of squishing me.” Her voice sounds strained. My arms instantly loosen.
“Sorry.”
Grace grins. “That’s okay. You give good hugs.”
I laugh. “So do you.” It’s as though the crater of emptiness I’ve been experiencing most of my life has suddenly filled up the moment her arms went around my neck.
She leans back and dances on her toes, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait to show you my room, and I want you to see my favorite park down the road.”
“Hey, I might be able to show you a few places. I did some growing up here when I was your age.” I wink.
“Oh, that would be fun. Can we go now?” She grips my hand and attempts to pull me off the bed.
Her eagerness is contagious. “Maybe not today. I’m a little tired from traveling, and isn’t it close to dinnertime?”
Her shoulders slump. “Okay. Maybe after dinner then?”
“Only if your mom says it’s okay,” I say. She’s a little pushy, this one, but I love her spirit.
She spins on her heel and leaves me to my bowl of emotions. It’s a mix between anger over what I was deprived of and sadness that I couldn’t see my sister and become her friend sooner. I wish I could have been here for her when she was growing up. Thankfully, she’s at a very forgiving stage in life.
Things are going to be different now. I’m here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere.
As I roll over, my stomach twists anxiously. Light gently filters into my room between the curtains. Today’s the day I go back to college. After some full-on phone calls from Mom to the college, I’m finally allowed in.
The thought of coming face to face with people from my past is terrifying. The Charity they remember isn’t the same one that left. Then there’s Jase, my old best friend. Does he still live here? It probably doesn’t matter. I was nine, and I’m sure whatever kind of friendship we had is long forgotten.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. “Hello?” I answer.
“Hello, is this Charity?” An unfamiliar male voice comes through the line.
Sitting, I say, “Yes, it is. Can I ask who’s calling?” I glance at the clock on the wall; it’s eight in the morning. Who’d call this early?
“I’m Marcus, calling from Jacob and Son’s law firm. It’s to do with your father’s will.”
My stomach clenches. “Oh, okay. What’s wrong?”
“No, nothing. We need to arrange a time we can get together. As I’m sure you’re aware, your father left you with everything. Things need to happen with the house you both were occupying. I understand you have moved in with your mom?”
“Yes. I don’t want to live in that house.”
“I understand.” His tone tells me he doesn’t, though.
I sigh. “I wanted to get to know my mom and the family I have left that my father kept from me. Please forgive my bluntness, but I don’t have the time to travel at the moment. I’ll organize people to pack the house up and put it on the market.” It’s been a week since my arrival. I didn’t need to come to live with my mom, but I wanted to. I am nineteen, after all. I wanted to get to know her; she’s been a missing piece in my life. I’d sought her out. I needed someone. Growing up, my father kept a close rein on me, and my friends were limited, even at eighteen almost nineteen. School and home were all that was allowed.
Marcus clears his throat. “I’m sorry. Okay, well, when would be a good time for me to go through everything with you?”
“Now, because I don’t want this hanging over my head as I wait for your call to come. What do I need to know that I don’t already?” I snap. What a way to start my morning.
“Okay, so, your father obviously left you the house, his car—pretty much everything.” I hear papers shuffle then he speaks again. “Did you have someone to handle things here, or would you like us to deal with the sale of the house and all the furniture? Your father has accounted for us taking care of it all; whatever it is you want to do.”
“Fine. You take care of it. I’ll email you my address to ship things. I also want the car sold. Sell every bit of furniture in the house. I only want the photos