Page 58 of Her Property

He looked like he might have said something else, but Chase spoke up. “That’s not the only secret Alfred’s keeping. I actually talked him into seeing a life coach.”

“Alife coach?” Cat exclaimed.

Chase said he’d hooked Alfred up with someone in New York called Lucy Fulham who was apparently a miracle worker at helping people find work-life balance.

“Maybe you could introduce her to Cat?” Jake said. “Just to make things stick.”

“Yes!” Alfred said enthusiastically. “I don’t want be the only one setting goddamned goals.”

* * *

They saidtheir goodbyes an hour later, apologizing they had to leave early. “The rest home has very strict visiting hours,” Cat said. Jake visited his gran in Millerville twice a week now, and Cat came along every other visit. Gran loved Cat already, even if she had to meet her again every time she came.

As Cat chatted about a few work things with Laura, Alfred came up to Jake and pulled him aside.

He glanced at the others as if to see if anyone was looking. “This is for you,” he said, thrusting an unmarked manila envelope in his hand.

Jake’s stomach did a jump. “The last time this happened I didn’t like what was inside,” he said.

“I didn’t either, as it turns out,” Alfred said. “This is better. But wait until you’re out of here to open it. I don’t want to… cause any fuss.”

Jake’s eyebrows went up. “Fuss?”

“Just hang onto it. And you can thank Lucy—my life coach—for giving this to you now. She says I need to shorten the time-gap on my goals. Or something like that.”

Smiling, Jake took the envelope. “I never thought of someone like you as having goals,” Jake said. “I thought you had everything you wanted already.”

“I have goals,” Alfred said, glancing over at Cat, who was on her way back to them with her coat. “The first one is to figure out how to be as good a man as you.”

* * *

Cat had offeredto open the envelope for him on the drive over to Millerville—several times. She was as curious as him to see what was inside, but Jake insisted on waiting until they pulled into the parking lot at his Gran’s home.

“Okay,” he said. “You open it. Tell me if I’m going to like it.”

Cat tore into the envelope. There was a single folded up piece of paper and a photograph, which landed face down in Cat’s lap.

She opened the paper first. Immediately, her eyes lit up. “Oh my god,” she said.

“Good?” Jake asked.

“Jake… it’s a copy of the deed for Alfred’s lake house. The note on it says he’s gifting the house, and the land, to the James Colson Memorial Camp.”

“What?” Jake said. Shock rippled through him. His hands shook. “Can I see?”

She handed him the paper, her face jubilant.

While he studied the thing, trying to ascertain if this was really happening, Cat said, “Jake?”

She’d tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing her profile: the cheek he loved to run his finger down, the lips that made his knees go weak.

“You should see this,” she said.

“Good?” he asked, still staring at Cat.

“Beautiful,” she said. She handed him the photograph.

He tore his eyes from Cat to look. It was a photo of two teenagers on some steps—the steps of the mess hall at the old camp, he realized. The boy sat behind the girl, angling his face down to her. She looked up at him. They both looked as if nothing else in the world existed.

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