The Discovery, A Novel Read Free

part.”
    “It is most definitely for real. That’s why I got less cash than the other grandchildren.”
    “I was wondering about that,” she said. “I’m not complaining, but I was surprised at how much less.”
    “Jenn, that house is worth close to two million dollars, even in today’s market. I asked Mr. Dunn about it when you were talking with my mom. Gramps had them get an appraisal then deduct that much from my portion, so we all got an equal amount.” It still hadn’t sunk in. I was talking way too matter-of-factly about this. “Getting that house means more to me than the money. It’s priceless. You remember it, don’t you?”
    “Of course I remember it. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it.”
    “Jenn, you realize what this means?”
    “You can write your book now,” she said.
    “And do it in the same place my grandfather wrote his books for the last thirty years.” Just then it dawned on me . . . that’s what he had in mind all along. He knew how much I loved that house, and this town. He had never once asked me if I wanted it for my inheritance. He just knew.
    “The whole family is supposed to meet over there in a few hours, right?” she said.
    I looked at my watch. “Yeah, at 6:00 for the dinner. Mr. Dunn said it was my grandfather’s idea. Give us all a chance to chat and reminisce awhile before we go our separate ways.”
    “So . . . that place, that incredible house . . . it’s really ours ? Just like that?”
    “Just like that. Mr. Dunn said he’d give me the keys at dinner, and also the keys to a safe deposit box at my grandfather’s bank, where the deed and title are sitting safe and sound.”
    “There’s no mortgage?”
    “It’s free and clear.”
    “I have a house,” she said.
    “You have a house . . . actually, way more than a house. You have a historic landmark, fully furnished with nineteenth-century period antiques. Every single one handpicked by my grandmother.”
    “Incredible,” she said.
    We walked in contented silence for a while. I thought about how happy Gramps and Nan must be at this moment, together again. Their love for each other had spanned almost sixty years. It was, at times, an odd thing to behold. Usually when I’d see older couples together, they’d seem comfortable with each other; many times I’d observe them eating a meal at a restaurant, barely saying a word the whole time.
    But Gramps and Nan were a couple in love, right to the end. Their passion for each other at least matched my own for Jenn. But they’d had a depth of intimacy far beyond our reach. An intimacy forged over time, granted to a select few. Sometimes I’d catch them stealing glances at each other that seemed to convey entire conversations. I never saw them walk together when they weren’t holding hands. They still preferred to sit together, and without fail, Gramps’s arm would instantly wrap around Nan’s shoulder, like he was some teenage boy at a movie.
    Gramps had told me something very encouraging the first time Jenn and I visited him, a few months after our wedding. We were drinking iced tea in the courtyard by the fountain. “You chose well, Michael. I can tell. I’m a good judge of these things. She’s going to make you very happy. Like Nan made me. Nan would have loved Jenn right off if she were here. Take good care of that young lady, all your days.”
    That was my plan.
    I looked over at Jenn as we turned the corner at Church Street. Her eyes looked all around, taking in the sights of this beautiful city. Maybe trying to envision herself now as one of its citizens, living in the prestigious historic district itself.
    It seemed perfectly right that my grandfather should live here, the reward of a long, successful life. But how did I . . . we . . . rate this distinction? We walked past yet another large, majestic home on Church Street. I couldn’t process the fact that its owner was now my neighbor.
    It got me thinking about our new home