Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

33. Ruther

thirty-three

Ruther

A s the fall weather began to blow into the city, I felt a new kind of purpose. My sessions with the therapist confirmed that I had, in fact, felt renewed in Crawford City. With his help, I decided I was ready to shed the pain of my past.

I never loved living in New York. I don’t think I realized that until now. I mean, I loved my city. I loved the restaurants, nightlife, and Broadway shows. I loved being able to decide to do something on the spur of the moment and have whatever I wanted at my fingertips.

But, as someone now in their forties, I realized I no longer needed any of that. I wanted quiet walks along small-town sidewalks. I wanted people who recognized me and waved or stopped to ask me questions a regular New Yorker would feel were impertinent or nosy.

I wanted what I’d lost as a child in that awful fire that’d taken so much away from me. The panic attacks had lessened, though not gone away. Even now, when I thought about the house, about the fire, I had to do some heavy processing to get past it.

The biggest panic attack since returning to New York came when my therapist recommended that I make plans to tour the house next time I was in Crawford City. “Clearly,” I said as I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles, “I’m not ready for that.”

Interestingly enough, I didn’t have any such reaction when admitting I was going to try to relocate to Crawford City. “I don’t know if it’ll be my forever home,” I told the therapist, “but I know New York isn’t. I feel dead here. Everywhere I look, I’m reminded of everything I didn’t accomplish.”

“Like gaining your father’s approval?”

I laughed bitterly. “Exactly. I felt something…something different when I was in Crawford City. A sense of belonging. Does that make sense?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Tell me about the process. How do you plan to move?”

We’d spent the past month talking about the particulars and how I felt about it all. Me selling my newly renovated apartment, contacting my estranged relatives about selling our family’s brownstone, and becoming deeply enmeshed in Crawford City.

“What about your assistant?” my therapist asked in our last session.

“That’s the hardest part, that and leaving my late cousin Farlow’s husband. I feel like I’m going to lose the only people left in my life who I care about.”

My therapist and I had talked about my close relationship with Corey several times, so he already knew my feelings were friendship-based rather than anything romantic.

“You need to talk to him, probably before you do anything else,” he’d advised me.

He wasn’t wrong. I needed to clear things up with Corey. I no longer ran a large company, and while I still dabbled in real estate, my business dealings these days really couldn’t be considered more than pet projects. I’d kept my assistant on to help me navigate all the stuff in my life, but even without a therapist telling me so, I knew that was disingenuous.

I invited Corey over after a family member officially signed on Dad’s brownstone. I poured him a glass of wine and sat across from him as I explained the transaction details.

He nodded but didn’t respond. “Corey, I’m moving to Crawford City. I’m going to liquidate all my New York holdings,” I said, deciding it was best to pull the bandage off all at once.

“And what do you need from me?”

I chuckled. “Honesty. Do you see yourself living in Crawford City? In following me there?”

He leaned back in the chair, not touching his wine. “Are you asking me to come with you?” he asked.

I stared at him for a moment. “What are you asking?”

Corey stood up and paced. “Ruther, you are more than just my employer. You’re my friend, my family. Neither one of us has ever been any good at relationships.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “Corey, you and I have very distinct types. You like them tall, thin, and regal. I like my men short, stocky, and full of attitude. We are not compatible.”

“I wasn’t saying we are, but I have nothing holding me here either.”

“You hated Crawford City,” I said and swallowed my wine.

“Correction, I thought I hated Crawford City. In fact, I liked it very much. I only realized that after we returned to New York.”

“Like it enough to live there?”

Corey shrugged. “Enough to move to Nashville. I admit, I prefer a city over a small town, but Nashville is nice and adequate for my needs.”

We stared at each other for several moments before Corey sat down again. “I know you wanted to sell your dad’s business, and I supported that, even welcomed it. Then you found that property in Crawford City, and your life fell into place.”

He looked thoughtful, so I stayed quiet. I knew better than to interrupt when Corey was speaking his mind. “I-I’d like to do more projects like that. Not random suburban builds or conversions for the wealthy. The Crawford City project feels real. Like we’re making a difference. I’d really enjoy doing more of those.”

I stared at my long-term assistant. It was almost like he was someone else. Someone I’d never known. “But you love New York, the nightlife, the men. You’d be giving all of that up.”

Corey laughed. “You’re not paying attention, Ruther. I haven’t dated anyone seriously for years. I hardly go out clubbing. I find myself increasingly enjoying my own company as the years progress. I admit, if I hadn’t gone with you last summer and experienced the place for myself, I would never have considered conservative Tennessee a possible place to call home.”

He took the wine and sipped it, and I could tell he was pondering his words. “I want to do something that makes a difference. I know I’m being…well, different from how you’ve known me, but the Crawford City project has struck a nerve.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t need the money. With the liquidation of the business, even with the debts, I had more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my l was wealthy even by New York’s standards. Now with the liquidation of my dad’s property and my apartment in the city, that added even more.

“So,” I said, trying to wrap my brain around what he was saying, “you want to create a real estate development company, similar to the one we just liquidated to do…what? Build small houses for poor people?”

Corey shook his head. “Not poor people, although affordable housing would be something we could consider, but projects like in Crawford City, where there’s a need and not many investors who can afford to invest or take the risk.”

“And you’d manage it?” I asked, getting right to the point.

“And I’d manage it.”

“Shit,” I said and poured another glass of wine. “Corey, I didn’t plan on ever doing this kind of thing again, not with Dad being gone. I thought I’d retire.”

Corey laughed and when I cocked an eyebrow, he asked, “How many pieces of real estate have you found around Crawford City since we left?”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but my smile slipped out before I could stop it. “Your point?”

“My point is you love it. I know for a fact you probably have three other possible build sites located in or around that town. In fact, if you haven’t at least made one inquiry, I will shut up and never bring this up again.”

I frowned but got up, walked to my desk, and pulled out a folder. When I handed it to Corey, he opened it and laughed again. “It’s another property, this one behind the bar,” I said. “It’s not officially for sale, but it belongs to the railroad, who have all but abandoned it. If the project we’ve started is successful, we could expand over there.”

“So, what say you? Shall we do this?” Corey asked.

“Only if you become my partner.”

It was Corey’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “We’ve already established we aren’t compatible.”

“Hush,” I said and did roll my eyes that time as I sat back down. “Not like that. I meant as my business partner. Fifty-fifty.”

“Wait!” Corey stood up again. “I don’t have the revenue to invest fifty-fifty. Besides, you’re the expert.”

“Corey, don’t be ridiculous. You’re as much, if not more, of an expert as me. I also don’t want to work that hard.”

Suddenly feeling resolved, I stared at my employee and friend. “I won’t do it without you. Not without you being an equal partner. I like the idea, and I think it’d be fun, lucrative, and, well, emotionally, it’ll help me too. But not doing it by myself. If we take this on, you’ll be making decisions with me.”

He stood stock still for a moment, then a smile grew. “Deal! Fuck, yes! You’ve got a deal,” he said and thrust his hand out toward me.

I shook it, then stood and pulled him into a hug. “I love you, Corey. You’re truly my best friend, and being partners is something we should’ve done a long time ago.” The emotions that played on Corey’s face when we pulled apart hit me in my own feels. “I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”