Take a Chance on Me by Susan May Warren

it through. “That’s fair.”
    “You’d still have plenty of private shoreline.”
    The man nodded. “I would like to give Claire some money for college. I guess I could sell off—”
    “You’re selling nothing, Grandpop.”
    Jensen winced even as he turned.
    Yep, Claire stood in the door, wearing a green dress, a red knit beret, a pair of high gladiator sandals. She glowered at him, setting a cup of coffee on the bedside table. “I step out for ten minutes to run to the Java Cup and come back to find you swindling my grandfather’s land from him.”
    “I wasn’t—”
    “No, you can’t buy our land, thank you. Grandpop is going to be fine, aren’t you?” She looked at Gibs pointedly.
    As if he had a choice.
    “Honey, listen to me. Jensen here has given me a good offer. And it could help you foot that college bill.” He reached out to catch her hand. She moved toward him like a robot, jerkily.
    Jensen had to look away from her stricken expression.
    “You can’t stay in Deep Haven forever,” Gibs went on. “We both know that. You have to leave sometime, and maybe this is your chance. The doc says I have three to six months of recovery left, and frankly, I’m not sure I can finagle getting around the house on my own. With this offer, I can recuperate at the care center—”
    “No.” She ripped her hand out of his. Even Jensen looked up at her tone. “No, you’re coming home. You can recuperate there. I’m staying. I’m taking care of you.”
    “Claire—”
    But she ignored her grandfather and rounded on Jensen. “You. Take your offer and get out.” She grabbed the envelope from Gibs’s hand and thrust it at Jensen. “Now.”
    Jensen stared at the envelope but refused to take it. “Claire, think this through—”
    “Now!”
    He tightened his jaw. “You know, you could try seeing past what you think of me to what is good for your grandfather. And for you.”
    “I know what’s good for both of us. To stay far away from you.”
    Ouch.
    He glanced at Gibs. “Thanks for considering it, anyway.”
    Gibs’s mouth tightened to a grim line. “If you ever feel like playing a game of checkers—”
    “Grandpop!” Claire’s mouth opened for only a second before she charged around the bed, grabbing Jensen by the arm. “Get. Out.”
    Jensen caught Gibs’s wink just as she pushed him out the door.
    He stood in the hall listening to the click of the door behind him. The nurse from the station looked up at him, and he felt heat flood his face. He turned and quickly walked down the hallway.
    At least the old man was okay. And it hadn’t exactly hurt to ask, had it?
    Get. Out.
    Right. Her words stung. Despite his sins, he would have thought their past still mattered. He could still remember the days when he could make her laugh or when she’d sit with him on the beach roasting marshmallows after Felicity and Darek had left.
    He wondered if she remembered those days too.
    Probably not.
    Jensen got into the work truck and headed to the courthouse, a familiar sourness in his chest. Even after three years, walking into the courthouse and up to his probation officer’s office seemed like a walk along the green mile.
    He took the stairs two at a time and then turned toward the end of the hall, where he knocked on Mitch O’Conner’s door.
    Mitch sat at his desk, his blond head bronzed from a recent fishing trip. “Hey, Jensen. I thought I might be seeing you today. Any big plans for the Fourth of July weekend?”
    Jensen handed him his weekly time card. “I’ll probably see if Ican’t coax a walleye or two onto my lure in Evergreen Lake.” Or not. He hadn’t gone fishing since . . . well, before the accident, for sure. But he didn’t want Mitch to know that he’d be sitting alone or even tucked into some corner at the VFW or Evergreen Lake Tavern, watching the Blue Monkeys hammer out Cash or Coltrane.
    Mitch took out his calculator, began to punch in numbers. “I hear we’re supposed to