Free The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) by Mary Smith Page A

the day, Grams informed me Felicia would be joining her on the ride to camp. Even at twelve, I knew not to get too excited since I’d been burned by her before. However, that day Grams was able to get a message to me telling me her and Felicia were on their way.
    I then allowed myself to get excited. My mom was coming, and she would be able to see my trophies and ribbons I’d received during my time there. I could show her the cabin and bunk I stayed in, and if I had time my new stick handling skills.
    The elation was bubbling over in me as my camp-mates’ families began to arrive. I couldn’t wait to introduce Felicia and Gams to everyone and the coaches. Finally, I spotted Grams’ 1990 Buick Skylark and watched her get out of the car…alone.
    I ran my hands roughly over my jaw as I tried my best to bring myself back to the present and forget about the pain I’d felt all those years ago. It was more than thirteen years ago, and I shouldn’t be worrying about the petty shit anymore. I took a deep breath and returned to my laptop.
    I drowned myself into my studies until I realized the sun was coming up. I checked my watch and figured I could get a few hours of sleep before the plane ride back to New Hampshire.
     

     
    I stopped at Grams as soon as I was off the plane. I hadn’t talked to her yesterday, but I knew she was okay because I had flowers delivered. From time-to-time, I send them to her just as a hey , I love ya . I remembered the stories she told me of Grandpa giving her flowers all the time.
    “Grams,” I called out as I opened her door.
    “In the kitchen.”
    I could smell the cinnamon buns the closer I got to her.
    “I figured you would be hungry.” She placed two in front of me.
    “Are you giving me these because I played like crap?”
    “Well, everyone has an off day once in a while.” She patted my shoulder before going to the stove. “How’s the studying?”
    “Good,” I replied with a mouthful of the ooey-gooey goodness. “How are things here?”
    “Felicia left.”
    I stopped chewing. “What did she steal?”
    “Nothing.” Grams came back to the table and sat across from me. “But she’s coming back in a couple days.”
    “Oh, so she just needed a fix and will return to get more money?” Figures .
    Grams shook her head. “No. She’s been staying in Maine with some sober friends, and now she wants to return home. She’ll stay here until she can find employment.”
    “That’s bullshit,” I growled at her. “She’s coming back here to mooch off you. I forbid her to stay here, and since I pay the bills—” before I could finish my words, Grams had a hold of my ear and jerked me almost over the table.
    “Keaton Michael, let me explain something to you. I have diapered you, clothed you, fed you, gave you everything you wanted, and all I asked in return was respect. Now, I never asked you to pay the bills. I’m eighty-six years old, and I’m well equipped to handle my own financial affairs. Felicia is my daughter-in-law and family, and I don’t turn family away. I also raised you the same way.” She released my now throbbing ear and sat back down.
    I rubbed my sore appendage and knew not to look at Grams because she could give the best death stare. “Fine,” was all I said.
    “Keaton Michael, she is your mother, and nothing will ever change that fact. You’re twenty-five, and I know she’s never been in your life. However, people change and grow up, and you should too.”
    I remained quiet and listened to her words. I nodded, got up from the table, kissed her cheek, and left.

Chapter Eleven
    Harlow
     
    I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done this. My day started with a back massage, then a facial, and as that finished, my pedicure started.
    Spa day equals perfection.
    As I laid my head back, I relished in the relaxation taking over me. The only reason I could even take a day off was thanks to Dacey. The girl was a dream with an Irish accent.
    With my eyes