Page 3 of Love in the Details

“Dusty, it’s so good to hear your voice. Did you already leave LA? You forgot to call and tell me if you left. I always worry you’ll be in an accident or something.” For an eighty-five-year-old woman, she still knew how to lay on the guilt.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and grinned. “I’m almost to the mansion, Grandma,” he said, waiting for her response.

She gasped. “What time did you leave this morning? It’s only noon.”

“I stayed over in St. George last night. I had to meet with the factory managers there, and then I got up early this morning to get on the road.” More like he’d barely slept. Major changes were coming to the company, and he’d been sorting through information for the past three months to figure out how best to incorporate them at each of the fifty-one factories around the nation. He’d gone to sleep closer to two in the morning and then was up around five. That’s what insomnia and a good measure of stress had done to his sleeping since he’d taken control of the company four years ago. “At least I missed the big storm moving through Northern Utah on my way.”

“I’m sure it will end up coming through anyway, but I’m glad you’re safe. I’ve had Margritte make up your old room for you. I wish you could’ve come yesterday for Thanksgiving, but I just hope you’ll stick around longer than Christmas.” Sadness filled her voice, and the air in Dustin’s chest caught. Christmas had always been an exciting time at the mansion, and he knew she was hoping to recreate it after the loss of Grandpa two years before.

He crested the hill and was surprised by the sight of the house. It was still in pristine condition, the outside of it looking like it had just been built. He pressed the garage door opener he’d kept in a drawer at home for so long it had become dusty.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted into park and nodded. “We’ll see how things go, Grandma. There’s a lot of work, and Coldwater Creek isn’t the easiest place to travel in and out of, especially during the winter.” He glanced around, seeing that the grounds already boasted several inches of fresh white powder.He hadn’t really thought of snow travel. His car might not make it through some of the roads if a big storm blew in while he was here.

She hung up the phone in her usual abrupt way. Saying goodbye had been too sentimental for her since Dustin’s grandfather had passed away from old age.

“Dusty,” his grandmother’s voice called, only this time it was from the door connecting the garage to the rest of the mansion. “It’s so good to have you home.” She waited for him to climb the steps and wrapped him in a warm hug.

When he took a step back, he was surprised to see how thin and frail she’d become over the past few months. She’d come to visit him during the summer months in LA with Margritte, her personal maid and nurse.

“I don’t know if this is really home anymore,” he said, taking off his shoes next to the built-in shelving his grandfather had contracted out when Dustin had come to live with them. It had been the catch-all for just about everything, and the emptiness of the space felt strange, like he no longer existed there.

“It will always be your home, dear. And when I’m gone, you’ll fill it with your family. Give your future children the kind of childhood you had.” Her eyes moistened, and she clapped her hands together like she was praying for exactly that.

Dustin groaned, not wanting to go into this again with her. She’d been talking about her future great-grandchildren since Dustin graduated from college, but the betrayals he still felt from past relationships had erected into a solid concrete barrier, not letting any woman affect him more than he had to deal with her.

Just as he thought that, the girl from the bank came to mind, and he gave a quick smile.“It will be better in the hands of someone who already has a family, Grandma. Not for some workaholic bachelor.”

“I’m glad you mentioned that,” she said, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm and pointing for them to head to the family room of the house. She took a seat in a recliner, her breathing more labored than Dustin was used to. The signs of age were written around her eyes, and the way her back bent just a little more pierced him. “You need to hire some people, train them well. Give them tasks that you don’t need to be doing anymore and just deal with the bigger stuff.”

Dustin took a seat in the matching recliner on the other side of the sofa, rocking back and forth a minute before he smiled at her. “Grandfather never hired anyone to do stuff like that.”

Her reaction was what he’d expected. Her lips pursed, and her eyebrows cinched together in frustration. She’d worn that expression plenty of times throughout his teen years when he’d said or done something she didn’t approve of.

“I don’t care what your grandfather did or didn’t do. When the factories were down for the day, so was he, here reading a book. Now, with all the technology, the work never stops.” She leaned forward a bit, resting her hands on her knees. “You’re almost thirty, Dusty. What are you going to do with the money you’re earning anyway? Put it in your bank account and never spend it?”

Her remark caused bitterness to rise in his throat. She and his grandfather had built the Wakefield Empire by being frugal and making the right deals at the right time. Shouldn’t he do the same?

“I just don’t want to fail this company. I don’t want to fail Grandpa’s legacy.” The words burned with the truth. There was always the fear of failure there, lurking around the corners of his mind. He hated defeat, and the few times he’d taken a risk and then failed had burned holes into his memory, making him remember every vivid detail to the point that he didn’t want to relive that again.

Her expression softened, and even though his mother had only married into the Wakefield family, the similarities between her and Grandmother had been vast. That look was one he remembered, even after he’d forgotten most of the other things that had tied him to his deceased parents.

“You’re not going to fail. From what I’ve heard, things are going well.” She sat back, accepting a cup of tea from Margritte.

“Can I get you anything, Dustin?” the woman asked.

“No, thank you, Margritte.” He smiled and then added, “Thank you for taking such good care of my grandmother.”

The heavyset woman grinned and waved a hand through the air. “I think you’re mistaken, sir. She’s the one always taking care of me.” She turned and walked back into the kitchen, and Dustin could feel his grandmother’s eyes on him again. He needed to explain the most recent changes he’d be making to the company, but the thought of her reaction caused him to pause before doing so.

“I might have to shut down the plant here in Coldwater Creek.” The words were out, and a measure of relief settled over him. He’d been trying to figure out how to tell her for the past few weeks, ever since the big numbers had come in from the third quarter. Production was down almost double compared to the other facilities, and unless he could find some miracle that would cure that, they’d have to close the plant and move the rest of the operations to the one in Colorado.

“There have been rumors of that floating around town as well, from what Margritte tells me.” Her voice was soft, each word deliberate. “Is it really that bad?”

“I’ll know more once I meet with the managers this week. I just hope to be able to save the decision for after the new year.”

His grandmother nodded. “Just make sure to look at all the options before you close. This valley relies a lot on the plant, and I would hate to see the town die because of it.” She took another sip of tea, then her features brightened. “I need your help with something. Our usual planner for the Christmas Gala is unavailable this year.”

Dustin raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t ask me to fill in for that.” He chuckled, and she swatted the air with a sigh.

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