Carla Neggers - The River House

“You and what army,” his brother said, teasing, as if they were kids again. “I did you a favor. The party’s on. You’re the host. Everyone will be thrilled. You’ll have a great time, and you don’t have to lift a finger.”

Gabe could see his reflection in the window. His jaw was tight, his angular features and tall, lean frame giving away that he and Mark were brothers. Gabe had put on muscle now that he’d been doing CrossFit for two years, dropping into studios when he was on the road. He’d gone to one yesterday in LA, before his overnight flight to Boston.

“You told Felicity it was my idea to hire her?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah. It was simpler. I don’t need to be the middleman.”

“You are the middleman. I didn’t know anything about it.”

“Now you do. Why are you jumping down my throat? You should be thanking me. You said you wanted help. I helped.”

“Do I need to do anything for this party?”

“Just show up. It’s not much notice, but Felicity’s good at what she does.”

Mark had mentioned in passing she was an event planner now. She’d started shortly after she and Gabe had fallen out. He’d figured it was something she’d do to make ends meet while she tried to find another finance job, if only to spite him. But she’d stuck with it, obviously. Mark didn’t know the ins and outs of his younger brother’s relationship with Knights Bridge’s own party planner. They were close, but not that kind of close.

“Okay, thanks,” Gabe said finally.

“You’re not regretting saying yes to speaking at the boot camp, are you?”

“It’s a day and then it’s done.”

A few minutes ago, Gabe would have said he was looking forward to the boot camp. Dylan McCaffrey had invited him when they’d met briefly in San Diego before Gabe had returned to Los Angeles and then flown onto Boston. Mark, who’d designed Dylan and Olivia’s new home in Knights Bridge, had put them in touch with each other. Gabe had accepted the invitation without a second’s thought. A panel discussion on start-ups for an audience of aspiring entrepreneurs? What was there to think about? He was on his way back to Boston, anyway, and he owed his brother in Knights Bridge a visit.

But he changed the subject. “How’s Jess?” he asked.

“Puking.”

“Fun call, Mark. Real fun call. She sick?”

There was a slight hesitation. “She’s pregnant. I was going to wait until you got here to tell you. Morning sickness came on fast and strong. You’re going to want to rethink staying with us.”

“Mark...” Gabe stared out at the blend of old and new that was Back Bay, but he found himself picturing Knights Bridge on a warm summer evening. He hadn’t been to the Colonial Revival house Mark and Jess were restoring off Knights Bridge common, but he knew it. Mark specialized in older buildings as an architect and it had made sense—felt right—when he and Jess had bought one of their own. Now they had a baby on the way. “That’s wonderful news, Mark. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Gabe. We’re thrilled.”

“I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

“Your call. That reminds me. There’s one more thing you should know before you get here. I’ve been meaning to mention it. I know you and Felicity haven’t been close the past few years but thought you’d want to know she bought the house.”

“What house?”

“The house we built on the river at the old campsite.”

Gabe had known Mark had sold the house, but he’d never identified the buyer. Gabe hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to know. He’d contributed ideas and cash to the building of the house but had left everything else to Mark. “Felicity bought it,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“I’m happy it sold to someone who remembers the property as a campsite.”

Oh, she’d remember it, all right, Gabe thought. “A lot of changes in town.”

“Tons. It’ll be good to have you back here. See you soon.”

After he and Mark hung up, Gabe didn’t move from the windows. He watched the city lights twinkling in the fading light. He was going to be an uncle. His brother had a wife, and they were expecting their first child.

It was a lot. It was the best.

He could see himself on a lazy summer afternoon fishing with Mark on the river, in a beat-up canoe they’d discovered buried in their father’s shed. Their mother had just been diagnosed with the breast cancer that would eventually kill her. “We’re going to get out of here, Gabe,” Mark had said, not for the first time. “We’re not going to get stuck here dreaming about a different life. We’re going to get out and never come back except to visit.”

Mark had stayed away for a while, but he’d returned and now had offices out on the river where he and Gabe had grown up. Things hadn’t worked out the way he’d meant them to when he’d set off for college. They’d worked out even better.

“They worked out perfectly, brother,” Gabe said, turning from his city view.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed and he saw he had a text from Mark: Felicity expects you to get in touch with her about the party.

What’s there to get in touch about? Place settings?

Ask her. Ball’s in your court.

How did the ball get in his court? Gabe gave up. How’s Jess?

Eating a pastrami sandwich. I don’t know if I can take nine months of this.

But he could and he would, and he looked forward to it. Mark and Jessica’s wedding announcement last summer hadn’t been a total surprise to Gabe, but earlier in the year he’d wondered if they’d make it. Mark had taken Jess for granted, and she’d shown signs of serious impatience.

She’d gotten his workaholic brother to take her to Paris. That was something.

Gabe typed his response: Good thing you like pastrami.

He received a smile emoji from Mark, and they were done. Gabe set his phone aside. He was adept at taking in new information, processing it, making a decision and moving forward—but he needed a moment to process Mark’s call. He hadn’t expected Felicity to be involved in the entrepreneurial boot camp, and he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to be living in the house on the river. To own it. He loved that place.

“Should have bought it yourself, then,” he muttered.

Instead he’d let Mark buy out his interest.

He’d had no plans then, and he had none now ever to spend much time in his hometown. He’d gone in with Mark to buy the property in order to help their grandfather afford assisted living. They’d have paid his way, but that wasn’t what the old guy had wanted. The property had been in Flanagan hands for decades. Mark had designed the house—with Gabe’s input—and eventually bought Gabe out...which had made sense at the time. Mark was living in Knights Bridge. Gabe wasn’t. He’d never considered it might not stay in the family. If there was one spot in Knights Bridge he could get nostalgic about, it was that one.

Of all the places for Felicity to end up.

He took in the state of his condo. When he’d arrived that morning, he’d collapsed for a few hours’ sleep and had barely noticed the drop cloths, the covered furnishings, the smell of fresh paint. Workers had arrived mid-morning. The condo was undergoing cosmetic work ahead of going on the market. It would sell in a heartbeat, at a profit. Gabe had bought it two years ago more as an investment than as a place to live. It wasn’t home, not in the sense of Mark and Jess’s Colonial Revival. Gabe was young, unattached, didn’t have a baby on the way—and he liked to travel. He’d had top-notch employees and freelancers, all of whom worked remotely. He could work from anywhere that had an internet connection.