true enough, but not the whole story,
something Jack wouldn’t have been able to see twenty years ago.
“She’s a smart girl, that one. I understand she was
valedictorian and earned an architectural scholarship at UC–Boulder. I guess
she’s a chip off the old block, right?”
Jack frowned. “How do you know anything about Sage? A few hours
ago, you had no idea who she even was.”
Harry had his sources, who had been busy all afternoon and
evening finding out everything they could about this new relation of his. Right
now, he figured he probably knew more about Sage McKnight than her own mother,
and he was pleased beyond measure that his granddaughter showed such promise,
despite her upbringing with that flighty woman.
“The mother, Maura. She’s a piece of work. Hooked up with a
musician a few years after you left. From what I hear, their marriage only
lasted about five years—long enough to make another kid. The girl who died.”
Annoyance tightened his son’s mouth, so much like his mother’s.
The girl shared the same mouth. Harry had ordered his people to send any
pictures they could find of her, and he was amazed now that he’d never picked up
on the resemblance when he had seen her around town over the years. Amazing what
a person could miss when he wasn’t expecting to see it.
“A real tragedy, that accident,” he went on. “All of Hope’s
Crossing has been in a tizzy since April, pointing fingers, trying to figure out
what went wrong. I’ll tell you what went wrong. Nothing new here. A bunch of
headstrong kids take a couple of drinks, smoke some weed, and think it all gives
them immortality and nothing can touch them.”
This wasn’t what he wanted to talk
about with Jack. Harry had waited twenty years for his son to return, and this
wasn’t at all the way he’d pictured their reunion.
He fidgeted and smoothed the blankets. “You didn’t come here to
talk about something that happened eight months ago to strangers in a town you
hate.”
Jack met his gaze head-on. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure
why I came here. It was a mistake. I should go. Sorry to have bothered you.”
No. Not yet!
Jackson turned as if to go, and Harry racked his brain for some
way to keep him here. He finally blurted out the first thing that came to his
mind.
“I thought maybe you were angling to be hired to design the
town’s new recreation center.”
His son gave a short laugh that didn’t sound amused in the
slightest. “Despite what you may think, I don’t need to come to Hope’s Crossing
trolling for business. My firm does fine.”
Better than fine, Harry thought with pride. They were one of
the most respected design companies on the West Coast, and his son had built the
whole thing out of nothing. Of course, he couldn’t mention he knew that very
well, that he had followed his son’s career intensely from the moment he’d
finished his graduate work at UC–Berkeley.
“Given your connection to me, I figured you might think you
have some kind of in. Well, you don’t.”
Jack looked if he didn’t know whether to be amused or offended.
“I would never assume such a thing, even if I knew what the hell you were
talking about.”
“It’s still in the initial planning stages, but I can tell you
it’s going to be a huge project and one of the most innovative facilities in the
nation, with indoor and outdoor recreation opportunities. You can get a project
prospectus like everybody else, so don’t think you can worm the information out
of me when I’m on my deathbed.”
“Now you’re on your deathbed.”
Harry shrugged. With his heart problems of the past year, he
felt closer than he ever had in his life. Regret was a miserable companion to a
man in the twilight of his life, especially since he had always considered
himself invincible.
And the man standing reluctantly by his bedside was his biggest
regret. The Grand Poobah of his failures.
“You can call my assistant if you want
something Jack wouldn’t have been able to see twenty years ago.
“She’s a smart girl, that one. I understand she was
valedictorian and earned an architectural scholarship at UC–Boulder. I guess
she’s a chip off the old block, right?”
Jack frowned. “How do you know anything about Sage? A few hours
ago, you had no idea who she even was.”
Harry had his sources, who had been busy all afternoon and
evening finding out everything they could about this new relation of his. Right
now, he figured he probably knew more about Sage McKnight than her own mother,
and he was pleased beyond measure that his granddaughter showed such promise,
despite her upbringing with that flighty woman.
“The mother, Maura. She’s a piece of work. Hooked up with a
musician a few years after you left. From what I hear, their marriage only
lasted about five years—long enough to make another kid. The girl who died.”
Annoyance tightened his son’s mouth, so much like his mother’s.
The girl shared the same mouth. Harry had ordered his people to send any
pictures they could find of her, and he was amazed now that he’d never picked up
on the resemblance when he had seen her around town over the years. Amazing what
a person could miss when he wasn’t expecting to see it.
“A real tragedy, that accident,” he went on. “All of Hope’s
Crossing has been in a tizzy since April, pointing fingers, trying to figure out
what went wrong. I’ll tell you what went wrong. Nothing new here. A bunch of
headstrong kids take a couple of drinks, smoke some weed, and think it all gives
them immortality and nothing can touch them.”
This wasn’t what he wanted to talk
about with Jack. Harry had waited twenty years for his son to return, and this
wasn’t at all the way he’d pictured their reunion.
He fidgeted and smoothed the blankets. “You didn’t come here to
talk about something that happened eight months ago to strangers in a town you
hate.”
Jack met his gaze head-on. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure
why I came here. It was a mistake. I should go. Sorry to have bothered you.”
No. Not yet!
Jackson turned as if to go, and Harry racked his brain for some
way to keep him here. He finally blurted out the first thing that came to his
mind.
“I thought maybe you were angling to be hired to design the
town’s new recreation center.”
His son gave a short laugh that didn’t sound amused in the
slightest. “Despite what you may think, I don’t need to come to Hope’s Crossing
trolling for business. My firm does fine.”
Better than fine, Harry thought with pride. They were one of
the most respected design companies on the West Coast, and his son had built the
whole thing out of nothing. Of course, he couldn’t mention he knew that very
well, that he had followed his son’s career intensely from the moment he’d
finished his graduate work at UC–Berkeley.
“Given your connection to me, I figured you might think you
have some kind of in. Well, you don’t.”
Jack looked if he didn’t know whether to be amused or offended.
“I would never assume such a thing, even if I knew what the hell you were
talking about.”
“It’s still in the initial planning stages, but I can tell you
it’s going to be a huge project and one of the most innovative facilities in the
nation, with indoor and outdoor recreation opportunities. You can get a project
prospectus like everybody else, so don’t think you can worm the information out
of me when I’m on my deathbed.”
“Now you’re on your deathbed.”
Harry shrugged. With his heart problems of the past year, he
felt closer than he ever had in his life. Regret was a miserable companion to a
man in the twilight of his life, especially since he had always considered
himself invincible.
And the man standing reluctantly by his bedside was his biggest
regret. The Grand Poobah of his failures.
“You can call my assistant if you want
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