The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) (18 page)

I was all wrapped up and ready to go when my cell phone rang. I peeled off my mitts, pulled my phone out, and checked the display.

David Grant
.

I panicked, instantly fearing something terrible had happened to Daniel. But that made no sense. Why would Dean Grant call me if that was the case?

“Dean Grant?”

“Aubrey, hi. How are you keeping?”

I relaxed. He sounded perfectly calm.

“I’m doing fine—having a quiet week but getting lots done. How was your long weekend in Nassau?”

“Gwen and I had a lovely time, thanks. We were chatting about you while we were there. She’d like to meet the young lady whose praises I’m constantly singing. That’s actually the reason I’m calling. I told her you’re all alone there this week, and she insisted I invite you over for a family dinner on Saturday.”

Oh, shit. Family dinner? Of course I couldn’t go. Daniel would have a conniption. I racked my brain for a suitable excuse.

“I don’t know, sir. My roommates will be getting home that day and—”

“And they’ll be exhausted and have unpacking and laundry to do. Please join us. Gwen will be so disappointed if I’m unable to convince you.”

“Well…”

What could I say? If only I’d had time to prepare an answer.

“If you’re worried about feeling overwhelmed by the family, there’s nothing to be concerned about. Bradley and Jeremy are perfectly harmless. And Bradley’s fiancée, Penny, would love some female companionship. She’s recently moved here from England. Please say you’ll come.”

He hadn’t mentioned Daniel. “What about your other son?” I asked, trying to sound vague.

“What, Daniel? No, he won’t be joining us. He’ll be in Ottawa for the weekend, so there’ll be one less Grant to deal with.”

Okay, that changed things. Daniel would probably be ticked off when he found out I’d been in his family’s home, but he had to give me some leeway. I’d known his dad far longer than I’d known
him
. I could still maintain my promise not to tell Dean Grant about the fact that Daniel was my TA.

“Well, I suppose you’re right. I can get caught up with Joanna and Matt on Sunday—”

“Perfect, I’ll take that as a yes. Tell you what, I’ll come down to Vic in the afternoon, get some things sorted out in the office, and then I’ll pick you up at your building at four thirty. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” I said.

After we’d hung up, I contemplated the fact that I was going to be inside Daniel’s family home. Would I get to see his childhood bedroom? His school photos? I fell back into my chair, playing out an imaginary conversation with his mother.

“Aubrey, dear, have I told you about my son Daniel?” she’d ask.

“Why, no, you haven’t, Mrs. Grant,” I’d say, taking her hand and leading her to a comfortable chair. “Why don’t you sit here and tell me
all
about him.”

Hell yes. Dinner with the Grants?
This
I would enjoy.

Chapter 14

Breathing Life into a Stone

I have seen a medicine
That’s able to breathe life into a stone…
(
All’s Well That Ends Well
, Act II, Scene 1)

W
HEN
S
ATURDAY
F
INALLY
A
RRIVED
, my stomach was clenching with anticipation. There was something titillating about visiting the house of someone you’re lusting after, especially if the person wasn’t going to be home. It made me feel kind of naughty.

To while away the day, I spent a couple of hours brainstorming for my independent study. I also made a pot of spaghetti sauce so Matt and Jo would have something to eat when they got home. Then I cleaned up my week’s worth of messes so they wouldn’t have a shit fit when they walked through the door. I’d always had a tendency to be a bit of a slob. Dirt I’m not a fan of, but clutter? Meh, it’s all good.

A relaxed and tanned Dean Grant picked me up at four thirty on the nose. We chatted about his week, and he spoke animatedly about his four-day trip to Nassau with his wife. He was excited about me meeting her, assuring me we’d get along famously. Driving through Forest Hill, I gawked out the window at the houses. What a treat to grow up in a neighborhood like this. My mother and I had shared a cramped two-bedroom apartment after my parents had split. Clearly I was out of my element. As Dean Grant pointed out landmarks along the way, I anticipated my arrival at the house. Would Penny remember me? It had been two weeks since Valentine’s Day. It was hard to say.

When Dean Grant pulled into the circular driveway, I couldn’t contain my gasp. The house was like something from a magazine spread—the ivy-covered walls and stone walkway surrounded by well-manicured shrubbery were everything I’d ever wanted in a dream house of my own. Dean Grant led the way to the front door, ushering me into the enormous front hallway. He locked the door behind him and took my coat, hanging it in the hall closet.

“Hello? I’m back! I’ve got Aubrey with me!”

His wife came out to the front hallway, wearing an apron over her tailored pants and blouse.

“Oh, Aubrey, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, pulling me into a warm embrace.

“Yes, you too, Mrs. Grant,” I said, embarrassed and shy. She was tiny but beautiful, her green eyes bright and full of vitality.

“Please call me Gwen, and you’ll have to pardon my appearance,” she said, plucking at the apron. “I’m at war with some meringue at the moment, and it’s not cooperating. I’ve been on the phone all day, trying to wheedle cooking tips out of all my friends.”

She moved to a door on the right hand side of the large foyer, and called out, “Bradley? Can you all come up here please? Dad’s home with Aubrey!”

Footsteps crashed up the stairs, and then Bradley burst through the doorway. He was an older, slightly more solid version of Daniel. His handshake was hearty and his double-dimpled smile so warm it could melt the polar icecap.

“Hey, good to meet you, Aubrey,” he said. “Dad talks about you all the time. This is my fiancée, Penny.”

Penny stepped forward to shake my hand, and as soon as she looked at me, a flicker of recognition transformed her features.

“Oh, I don’t believe it! It’s you, the sneezing girl! Bradley, isn’t that funny? I ran into Aubrey in the loo at Canoe when Daniel took me out to dinner there a couple of weeks ago. How are you?” she asked, pulling me into a hug. “See, I knew from the moment we met we were meant to be friends. There was something so friendly and open about you.”

Oh Penny
, I wanted to say,
that’s so true. I have this uncontrollable urge to relieve all of my good friends of at least one of their eyeballs. Definitely one of my greatest BFF qualities.

But since she seemed pleasant enough and was clearly not attached to Daniel, I would permit her to keep her sight. In both eyes.

“It’s nice to see you again, Penny,” I said warmly.

“And this,” Gwen said, “is Jeremy.”

Jeremy stepped around to shake my hand. Though his features were finer than Brad’s, he was handsome as well, with the same amazing hazel-green eyes as his mother. Good God, what a stunning family. I was the proverbial ugly duckling in their presence.

“Why don’t you give Aubrey a quick tour?” Gwen said. “I have to figure out who else I can call to get help with this blasted meringue!”

“I’ll take my briefcase upstairs,” Dean Grant said. “Back down in a minute.”

Jeremy offered to take me on “the nickel tour” as he called it. Somehow, a nickel didn’t seem like it would even come close.

“Well, the kitchen’s back there. I say we avoid that part of the tour right now. Mom’ll have us whipping up meringues in no time.” Gesturing to the staircase, he said, “That’s upstairs, obviously. Um, there’s a washroom there.” He pointed to a door off to the right. “Don’t lock the door if you use the washroom, though. The lock’s pooched. You’ll get trapped inside.” He then walked us down a hallway to a closed door. “This is the ‘music room,’” he said, drawing quotations in the air with his fingers as he spoke.

He opened the door, and before me was one of the most beautiful rooms I’d ever seen. I felt like I’d walked into the pages of a Victorian novel.

“Oh my God,” I said in a hushed voice. You have to speak quietly when you’re in that kind of room.

There was a magnificent grand piano beside an enormous bay window. Three different guitars and another stringed instrument—I was guessing it was a cello, but I wasn’t entirely sure—were on stands on the other side of the piano.

“Are you guys like the von Trapp family or something?” I asked.

Jeremy laughed. “Not exactly. Mom made us take music lessons when we were kids. We all play the guitar, and Daniel—my other brother, the one who’s not here—he and I took piano lessons. We don’t play much anymore, but Mom does.”

“So Bradley didn’t take piano lessons?”

“He tried, but he didn’t get far. He plays the drums, though. Mom drew the line at having a drum kit in here.”

I laughed, my hands clenched under my chin as I took in the bookcases lining the wall. They were extraordinary. The vaulted ceiling must have gone up about sixteen feet, and the dark cherry shelves went all the way to the ceiling on two sides of the room. The bookshelf had one of those sliding ladders attached to it, like the ones you see in movies. Behind us, a trio of brown, soft leather couches opened into a U-shape facing a large stone fireplace.

I walked around the piano to peek out the window.

“Your back yard is huge,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s a good size, I guess. There’s not as much lawn as there used to be. Now it’s mostly patio and garden. Mom’s quite the gardener,” he explained. “She hosts a lot of events out there.”

“Wow, this is unreal,” I said. “It must have been amazing growing up here.”

“Yeah, it had its moments,” Jeremy replied, looking a little wistful. “That’s mostly it for the main floor. Brad and Penny are probably in the living room, if you wanna head back.”

“Yeah, sure. Actually, do you mind if I hit the washroom?” I said.

“Go ahead. Don’t forget about the door. The living room’s right through there,” he said, leading us back out to the front hallway and pointing to a set of closed French doors.

“Okay, thanks.”

Heeding Jeremy’s warning, I left the washroom door unlocked. I peered at myself in the mirror. The color of my cheeks screamed
anxiety
. Everyone was welcoming and kind, but the fact that I was in Daniel’s family’s house—no, scratch that, Daniel’s family’s
palatial mansion
—well, it was all a smidge overwhelming. I grabbed a handful of Kleenex and ran them under the cold tap and dabbed my warm face.

As I was holding the wad of cool tissues to my cheek, I heard the front door bell ring and Dean Grant call out, “I’ll get it.” His shoes clattered down the hardwood stairs, and then his surprised voice rang through the front hallway. “Daniel! What are you doing here?”

My reflection in the mirror morphed from anxious to horrified.

Daniel?

Holy. Mother. Of. Crap.

Daniel was home?

Wasn’t he supposed to be in Ottawa?

Oh, shit, shit, shit. This was not good!

I shifted my weight and chewed on my thumbnail, trying to decide what to do. Transfixed, I listened to the exchange in the front hallway.

“Sorry, Daniel,” his father said. “I don’t mean to make it sound like we’re not happy to see you, but…”

“No, Dad, that’s fine. I’m sure I’m the last person you expected to see,” Daniel said. “I was trying to call, but the line’s been busy for ages. I did leave a message. My plans in Ottawa fell through.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. I know you were looking forward to going. Well, regardless, it’ll be great to have everyone together, especially now that Bradley is back. In fact, there’s someone joining us for dinner who I’d like you to meet. You’ve already met her in passing, actually, a couple of weeks ago in the office. You remember Aubrey?”

“Aubrey?
What?
Not the Price girl,” I heard Daniel say.

“Yes, that’s her,” his father replied. “Remember I told you I wanted you to meet her? She really is a lovely girl. Like I said before, I think you’d have a lot in common with her. She’s hard-working, bright, and attractive—”

“God, Dad, what the hell are you thinking?” Daniel hissed.

My face was on fire now, and I leaned my forehead and hands against the bathroom door. Dean Grant had wanted me to meet Daniel? Half of me was thrilled at the thought, but the rest of me was plagued by the distress in Daniel’s voice, not to mention my predicament. I couldn’t stay in the bathroom indefinitely, but I couldn’t walk out into the middle of their conversation either.

Their hushed voices neared the bathroom as they moved out of the vestibule and away from the kitchen and living room to speak in private, not realizing that rather than moving away from prying ears, they were actually moving closer to mine. They were right outside the door, and now I was
literally
trapped in the washroom.