Brat sounded about right. “Looks as if we’re both having relationship troubles.” She pulled back and met her grandfather’s direct blue eyes. Paul Newman eyes, Gram had called them.
“It’s his loss for letting go of a diamond like you.” Her grandfather pointed at his minifridge. “Still got some of that diet soda you brought last week, if you want it.”
“Thanks.” She crossed the tiled floor and grabbed a can as well as her favorite snack—white chocolate–dipped Oreos. She brought Gramps treats when she visited, and a few for herself.
“Funny how you drink that diet soda then eat all those cookies,” he teased, his eyes twinkling behind drooping lids.
“Makes perfect sense to me. Then I can eat more.” She tossed a treat in her mouth as she sat, her cheeks bulging.
“You’ll catch lots of fellas with that kind of charm.”
Despite the bad joke, she couldn’t help but laugh. Something about being around her grandfather made her feel like a kid again. “You’re not having the best of luck yourself.” She picked up the red shoe and waved it at him.
He chuckled, the sound starting low and deep in his belly and growing louder as it erupted from his throat.
“Maybe I oughta quit while I’m ahead. What’s an old guy like me doing thinking about romance anyway?”
“Looking for happiness. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Nope. But so far, I’m striking out.” He chucked her lightly under the chin. “At least I’ve still got my hair and my teeth. Not bad for eighty.”
“Life doesn’t get better than that,” she teased, then ate another cookie.
“Maybe for me.” His face grew serious, and his eyes searched hers. “But what about you?”
She glanced out the open doorway and watched a couple of women shuffle by, their heads craning to peer inside her grandfather’s room before they whispered and giggled together. These women had more going on in the romance department than she did. How depressing.
But lucky Gramps. He had a fan club, even if he didn’t see it. As for her, despite Gianna’s efforts to get her out to the clubs and tempt her to attend her family’s Fourth of July party today, Kayleigh found it hard to get in a social mood.
“I’m hanging in there.” She popped in another Oreo, sucking on the white-chocolate coating before it melted on her tongue.
“Barely, by the looks of it. You’ve got circles under your eyes. Besides your breakup, what else is bothering you?”
She swallowed the rest of the cookie and chased it with cold soda. “Still haven’t found a job, but I got the idea to use one of my own app designs to start a business. Unfortunately I can’t find an experienced programmer to write the software. Plus, I need an investor. Big money.”
“Maybe your father—” began Gramps before he stopped himself with a head shake. “Forget it. His young wife has him on a tight leash. With four new kids, I don’t imagine he’s giving even Chris’s family much help.”
Kayleigh let the soda bubble down her throat before answering. “Just some checks on holidays and birthdays. Otherwise, my stepmother demands that he focus on his new family, not his grown kids. You know how he hates confrontations, so he gives in.
“As for Mom, she tries. The paintings she sends Beth to sell don’t raise much money, if they’re purchased at all.” Kayleigh sighed, thinking of the framed canvases stacked in her closet. Her artist mother meant well and did the best she could. “It’s up to me to make this work, for Beth and myself, since I help her pay for Josh’s private school. But I’m failing.”
A bent finger, one of the two he’d broken back in his days operating a cement truck, lifted her chin. Their eyes met.
“‘Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.’ Thomas Edison said that.”
She smiled at her grandfather’s penchant for quotes. “Good one, Gramps.”
Then the meaning of the quote hit her. Failure wasn’t about not getting what you wanted. It was about giving up. And she was not a quitter. No matter what others said, she was on to something.
Her grandparents had been happily married for nearly fifty years, and her grandmother’s passing had felt unbearable. Yet despite losing his spouse, Gramps hadn’t given up on enjoying life. The red shoe was proof. It didn’t mean he’d forgotten her Gram. It showed that he wanted to find happiness where he could.
And wasn’t romance what made most people happy? If Gramps still believed in it, then other seniors did, as well. If he was struggling to meet someone again, she was sure he wasn’t alone. Her app could help them, not just young people. And many probably had smartphones, gifts from well-meaning grandchildren like her.
Youth didn’t have a monopoly on romance. Everyone, of all ages, wanted it, and she could make it easier to find. But if she gave up, it’d be their loss as well as hers. She had to trust that she knew best and not quit when success might be right around the corner. This was an untapped market.
Her grandfather beamed when she pulled him close and squeezed. “Hey, what’s that for?”
“Everything. You have faith in me.”
His smile pushed up his skin folds and lifted his ears. “Of course I do.”
She thought about the cryptic note to Annette Larson and how he’d inspired her to expand her app’s market. “Thanks, Gramps.”
“Bingo starts in the lounge in five minutes,” the PA system announced.
Gramps straightened and ran a hand over his hair. “I promised Annette I’d be there. Of course, she might not be talking to me anymore, but I should go. You wouldn’t be interested in playing with a bunch of old fogies, would you?”
She opened her mouth to insist that she would, but closed it when she thought of Mrs. Larson. Maybe he was hoping to make up with his lady friend.
“No. I promised Beth I’d stop by and see the boys. You have fun, though.”
He grabbed his cane and wobbled to his feet. “You have fun, too. While we’re alive, we should make every day count. In the end, that’s what matters.”
Exactly. Tomorrow she’d redouble her efforts to get her business off the ground. Prove that she was taking herself seriously, believing in herself, even if others weren’t.
“Okay, Gramps. I’ll see you in a few days.”
To her surprise, he pulled his cell from his pocket. “Why don’t I phone you on the text?”
A snort escaped her. “Gramps, you text on the phone.”
“Huh?” He fiddled with his hearing aids.
She kissed him, and they strolled out to the hall together. “Why don’t I call you, okay?”
He patted her shoulder. “Sounds good, honey. And keep your chin up. You’re going to work this out.”
She nodded, feeling more certain. “I know. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” He hugged her, then strolled down the hall lined with photos of residents taken at a variety of events. One even showed them in togas. Who knew the assisted-living facility was party central?
The key to business success was finding an unfulfilled need and supplying it to an untapped market like this.
Brett was wrong. She wasn’t just a thinker. She was a doer. As Gramps said, success might be right around the corner.
Now she just needed to turn it.
* * *
“KAYLEIGH?”
She