Forever (Always & Forever 2)

“Avery would be proud of the library and the decision to keep the house,” Kennedy said, shrugging on her sweater.

“I was surprised the rezoning wasn’t a bigger deal,” Robert added, picking up his grandmother’s purse and waiting to walk Kennedy out.

“We own the entire edge of the property all the way to the main road. The city’ll do well with the tax dollars something like this brings with it. I didn’t see it as a problem,” Autumn said, sitting forward enough to gather her paperwork. “I’m glad they’ll handle everything; we don’t have to do anything but oversee the committee. Robert, are you sure you’re up to heading this project?”

“Autumn, I’m fine. Stop bringing it up every thirty seconds,” he said, with a little more bite than necessary.

“You both did great. I’m proud of you two. You didn’t even need me here.”

Robert kept pace alongside his grandmother, smiling as her stern voice reminded him of the simple way she had at gaining both his and Autumn’s attention no matter their age or life experiences.

“It was easier with you here, Nonnie,” he added, winking at Autumn who sat there grinning after them. “I can take you home.”

“My driver’s waiting.”

Robert stopped close to the door, letting her walk out before him, and she patted him on the chest as she passed by.

“Walk me outside?”

“Of course.” Robert extended an arm, nothing overtly obvious but he wanted to help steady her steps. He’d learned that particular lesson the hard way. If his grandmother ever thought he purposefully offered aid, she would refuse the help every time. He must have been coy enough, because she took hold of his arm in a loving gesture as she walked toward the foyer of the office space.

When he pushed open the front doors of his dad’s—now Autumn’s—law firm, his grandmother slowed her already unhurried pace until she came to a stop in the middle of the doorway. She had shrunk a few inches over the years and had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, stopping him from doing anything more than holding the opened door. “You seem better.”

He glanced down at her caring and concerned face. This was the same look he’d gotten over and over since his return to Minnesota from Germany a month ago. His actions over the last ten or so months must have seriously scared people. He didn’t like that he’d caused his family so much concern while they had grieved themselves.

Remorse had become Robert’s most constant companion, replacing the hollowness of depression. He had so much to make up to his family.

“What’s just happened, son?”

He immediately masked his expression, but it was too late, her keen gaze saw right through his moment of reality and she wouldn’t budge until he told her the truth.

“Nonnie, you know me so well. Come sit on the bench.”

He pointed to the metal benches on either side of the walkway leading up to the building. They sat beneath the shade of the stately old oaks. She nodded and went that direction. Once settled, she asked again, “Why did you look so lost just a moment ago?”

He sat beside her, taking in the blooming landscape around them to gather his thoughts. He loved summer in Minneapolis—if he had to pick a favorite time of year, this would be top of his list. She reached out, clasping his hand.

“I’m doing better, Nonnie. Much better. Now though, I’m carrying around some guilt and regret for everything I put you and Autumn through.” The confession was as much as he’d ever admitted aloud to his grandmother about the pain and grief he had suffered. This keen-eyed woman seemed to understand his grief and need for distance, but she worried over him too.

“I suspect that’s natural. You have to know all we want for you is to get back to being yourself.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be that man again. Life has changed me.” That was putting it mildly. The rebuilding of his inner self had turned into a complete overhaul of who he was as a man. He wanted a different life than before.

“Will you be returning to medicine?” she asked, her bright blue eyes locked onto his. His dad had had identical eyes, so full of expression. Robert and Autumn had inherited the same blue eyes from their grandmother.

“How do you always know just the right questions to ask?” he inquired with a chuckle. His grandmother always stayed one step ahead of him. Nothing ever slipped that woman’s attention.

“Dear, I’ve buried a beloved husband and two cherished sons. I know a thing or two about grief.” She patted their joined hands. “I lost a piece of my heart each and every time, but through the grief, I also realized I had been blessed beyond measure by ever having them in my life to begin with. If I hadn’t had them, I wouldn’t have you. The time I shared with them shaped me, and they’re still a part of me. Each time, I changed inside. I’m certain that’s what you’re going through, too.” Her hand tightened around his.