Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
My thoughts were interrupted as a familiar voice called, “Is that Casey? If so, tell him to get his ass in here so I can yell at him!”
Seth’s brows creased into a frown. “That must mean you still haven’t cashed the check George gave you.”
I sighed and followed my brother to the den. He and Eden were in the process of repainting and redecorating the house to make it theirs, but George’s funky old recliner remained right where he’d left it, so he’d always be comfortable when he visited.
George Davis was one of my very favorite people. The seventy-three-year-old happened to look a lot like Morgan Freeman, especially when he pinned me with a stare over the top of his glasses. He sounded a bit like the actor, too. There was always a note of authority in his voice. It reminded me of the movie where Morgan Freeman had been cast to play God, and had to change nothing whatsoever about himself for the role.
“Happy birthday, son,” he said, as I came in and gave him a hug. “Now sit your ass down and tell me why the hell I still have the money I gave you sitting in my bank account.”
“We’ve been over this, George. You don’t owe me anything,” I said, as I took a seat on the new, dark blue couch, which was stiff and unyielding. I’d liked the funky 1970s-era couch much better.
“I know I don’t owe you, Casey. This isn’t about owing anyone anything. It’s about knowing my family is happy and provided for. Did you tear up the check and need me to write another one? I’ve got my checkbook right here,” he said, as he patted the breast pocket of his tweed blazer. Why was everyone so dressed up?
“No. I’ve been carrying it around in my wallet for the last month.”
Seth, who’d been hovering in the doorway, said, “I’m going to go see if Eden and Flora need any help putting the finishing touches on brunch,” and made his exit.
George leaned forward and held my gaze. Then he lowered his voice, as if what he was about to say was confidential. “I understand pride, son. When I was your age, I don’t think I would have cashed that check, either. I worked hard for everything I had. It wasn’t so easy to make a Black-owned business a success, especially back then. But despite it all, I succeeded. I made enough money to ensure a good life for myself and my family.” He scowled and leaned back in his chair. “Then both my sons turned out to be self-centered pricks. You can tell them I said that. We already talked about how I’m not giving them a cent, not now, not ever.
“One of my sons did something right, though. He gave me a wonderful grandson, the best I could ever ask for. And Eden in turn brought you and Seth into my life, so now I have three grandsons. I couldn’t be prouder of you, Casey. Look at you—a nurse, dedicating your life to helping others!”
I looked away and mumbled, “Damn it, George, are you trying to make me cry?”
“Hell, go ahead. Why not? I know how you were raised, by a macho meathead who told you shit like that isn’t manly. But there’s nothing wrong with showing your emotions, son. Nothing whatsoever.”
I nodded, but I still didn’t meet his gaze. “Now, about that money,” he continued. “You know I don’t need it. I had enough to live to be two hundred, even before I married my gorgeous real estate genius Flora. So, indulge an old man. Cash that check. I know you want to pay off your student loans, but then blow whatever’s left. Go on vacation. Buy a jet ski!”
I grinned and glanced at him as I repeated, “A jet ski?”
“Hell, I don’t know what’d make you happy. Maybe you don’t either, but I’d love it if you found out. See, that’s the great thing about giving you your inheritance now, instead of after I croak. I get to see you enjoy it.”
Now I felt like the world’s biggest asshole for not cashing that check. “Okay. I’ll go right to the bank when I leave here and deposit that money. I promise.”
George beamed at me. “That’s what I want to hear.”
A moment later, Flora appeared in the doorway. She was an elegant Black woman in her late sixties, who was wearing a forest green dress with a matching jacket and flashy jewelry. Somehow, she always looked like she was ready to take a meeting with diplomats and presidents.
“Hello there, Casey,” she said, with a warm smile. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Eden just finished getting brunch all set up in the dining room. Shall we?”
George got to his feet and said, “We shall,” as he linked his arm with hers. I could tell by the way he moved that his back pain was as severe as ever, but even with that there was a spring in his step. Married life was definitely agreeing with him.