Page 137

The party continued, as if we hadn’t missed a beat in our relationships, with eggnog being passed around, cartoons playing on TV for the kids, and a competitive card game going on at the table. Grandma was winning.
“Dang, Cordelia,” Tyler said. “Those ladies at the home must be whipping you into shape.”
Grandma kept her poker face as she reached for another card from the stack. “It’s the other way around. Someone needs to keep them on their toes.”
“Speaking of keeping people on their toes,” I said...
Everyone turned to me, and I grinned. I’d been bursting to tell everyone the news since we walked in, and I couldn’t wait any longer.
“I’m getting another grandbaby?” Mom cried.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Not yet.” I exchanged a grin with Tyler, who’d been very eager to practice the act, even if we planned to enjoy marriage just the two of us for a little while.
“What’s going on then?” Johmarcus asked.
I grinned, saying, “We’re opening up other locations of The Hen House!”
“What!” Bertrand said. “That’s awesome!”
I nodded excitedly. We’d opened our location just a few months ago, but the concept of boutique senior living in a small town had taken off with the media. Turned out people loved the idea of having a homey, comfortable place for their parents and grandparents to live where they could have their privacy and enjoy activities like gardening while still having a nurse check in on them from time to time.
“We caught the eye of an investor,” Tyler said. “They cut us a deal to find and restore five older buildings across Texas, and if this goes well, they want to partner with us to make it a nationwide franchise.”
My family cheered for us, and Dad got up from the table to walk around and hug us both. “I’m proud of you two.”
“Me too,” I admitted. After stopping college with an associate degree and working the same job for so long, I thought just being a property manager was my future. But Tyler had shown me there could be more to life. Especially with my best friend, my partner, my husband, myhomeat my side.
* * *