Senior Year Box Set

“I trust Ms. Dixon can handle that. Should we say we do this fifty-fifty? I put up the cash, and you two do all the work?” I asked.

Zoe turned her pleading eyes to her future husband.

“Happy wife means a happy life,” Uncle John offered.

“We have to buy him now, though. The farmer told me someone else might be interested but didn’t have the cash right now,” Zoe explained.

I recalled how upset Zoe had been when her parents made her sell her horses because they didn’t want to take care of them when she left. Seeing her happy made my day.

“Tell Megan what has to be done, and she’ll arrange payment.”

Megan led Zoe and Johan out to the office area to take care of that. I had a suspicion that Zoe wanted to go see her horse this afternoon.

“The only other business-related pieces are the running of your other businesses and the charities,” Dad said.

“Are you still planning to be my CEO?” I asked Dad.

“That’s probably best, with Scarlet going to work at the management company in LA. Megan wants to stay here and run the office. John will be close if she needs someone to help, and I’m not around,” Dad said.

With my dad and Uncle John watching over everything, Megan would be okay.

“Will she need to hire someone, or can she handle everything herself?” I asked.

“We were thinking maybe a floater like Angie was. Work part-time at the real estate office and help Megan as needed,” Mom said.

“What about the charities?” I asked.

“Your grandmother suggested Mr. Orange from the Homeless Coalition. He has run a charity and knows how to fundraise and write grant proposals. He’ll take over at the end of the month,” Dad said.

“Do we have enough money to pay him?” I asked.

“We have the money that got you into all that trouble with the NCAA. Ms. Dixon said to go ahead and move it into the general funds, and we can spend it now.”

“He’s confident that between his fundraising and the grants, he can pay his salary and help the beneficiaries of the two charities,” Scarlet said.

“Do you plan to get a job when you move?” I asked Dad.

“He’s going to take some time off before he goes looking for work,” Mom answered for him.

They must have discussed this before because Dad had a sour look on his face.

“Happy wife means a happy life,” Uncle John said to get in the middle of it.

I chuckled because I imagined Greg, Phil, and I giving each other shots like that when we were their age.

“See? They never grow up,” Grandma Dawson pointed out.

Neither Uncle John nor my dad was amused by their mother.

“What about you and your mayoral duties?” I asked my grandmother.

“Since the mayor has to live within the city limits, the city will have to have a special election to replace Mayor Duke,” Grandma Dawson informed me.

That made sense.

“Do you plan to do anything once you move?” I asked.

That had everyone’s attention. Apparently, my grandmother was keeping her plans close to her vest and hadn’t shared them with her family.

“Since you’re my favorite, I’ll tell you,” she said.

We waited.

“I didn’t say I would tell the rest of you,” Grandma Dawson said.

Suddenly, I knew what Pam felt like when I told her she was my favorite. I stuck my tongue out at my uncle and dad.

“Behave,” Grandma Dawson admonished me.

If I owned a beach house, I would bet the whole property that as soon as my grandmother told me her plans, those two would be working me for details.

“Now that this part of the business meeting is over, let’s talk about moving,” Dad said.

There was another part?

“I talked to Fritz, and Manaia will move into the security apartment over the garage,” Dad continued.

“Does that mean I won’t have to have security when I go to college?” I asked.

“They’ll set up security cameras in your dorm room, and you’ll have to wear a bodycam of some sort. The feeds will be monitored at Fritz’s main office periodically, and you’ll have your panic button on your phone. He thinks that should be enough,” Dad said.

“Good. I’m starting to hate having to have someone with me all the time,” I admitted.

“I don’t blame you,” Uncle John said.

Mom gave my uncle a look.

“What?” Uncle John asked. “Tell her, Rob. Would you want to have security tailing you while you were in college?”

“We’re not going there,” Dad said.

Before my mom could quiz my dad about what Uncle John was talking about, my dad plowed forward.

“We’ve decided we need someone to help out at the new house. Initially, we were looking for a person like Melanie to come in and cook and clean. We reached out to someone, and they suggested hiring their husband too. They would stay in the empty apartment over the garage next to yours and your grandmother’s,” Dad said.

This wasn’t an ordinary garage by any stretch. You could park eight cars in the front, and then around the back, there was room to park eight more. Upstairs were four shotgun-style one-bedroom apartments that were each 20 feet by 40 feet. The kicker was that on the roof, they put a tennis court.