Sweet Sensations

Chapter Four

Dominick

Grandpa opened the door to his old ranch house, a smile filling his face and stretching all of his wrinkles up toward the sky.

"Grandpa!" I said, grasping his hand and pulling him in for a hug. "It's a beautiful day out here, isn't it?"

From the expansive wooden deck, we could see across the forests and to the mountains in the distance. The hillside sloped slowly downward from his home, and coniferous trees sprouted in clumps from the grass. He adjusted his glasses as he gazed across the quiet, still landscape with me.

"It sure is beautiful," he agreed. "Although I still think it was silly of you to buy me this place." He turned, gesturing for me to follow as he led me into the large, open living space of the ranch.

"You and Grandma always wanted to live in the mountains," I said, kicking my shoes off. "It makes me happy that I can do these kinds of things for you. Not to mention the Davilas are your neighbors on one side and the Erdogans on the other. I hated that you and Grandma were driving through these roads in the dark twice a week just to see your best friends."

Grandpa took his seat at the counter that divided the kitchen and living room, his crossword puzzle and a cup of coffee waiting. "Even so. Now that it's just me, it feels a bit embarrassing to have so much space."

"Well then, I definitely made the right decision in coming back to Denver for a year. You'll be entertaining me every few days, whether you like it or not," I joked.

He waved his coffee in the air, spilling a little over the edge of the mug. With a white tank stretched over his chest, I couldn't help but appreciate how strong he still was and the way his biceps popped when he gestured at me.

Something in the genes, I hoped.

"Don't think I'm ungrateful," he said, his old Italian accent rising to the surface a little. "I couldn't be prouder of you, son. When your abuela and I took you into our home, we never could have imagined the shy little five-year-old with the big mess of hair would grow up and do the kinds of things you do."

"Okay, okay," I laughed, holding my hands in the air. "Can we get through one lunch without a speech about my business success?"

He rose to his feet, shuffling toward the fridge. "Only if you give me some stories. How's work treating you? You're not missing the... whatever it's called?" He pulled a soda water from the fridge, then twisted the lid off and poured it into a glass for me. "The launch?"

"The launch, that's right," I said, accepting the glass. My old firm had handled the green rebranding for a string of popular restaurants in Manhattan, and the last of those ventures was having a very exclusive party to launch their new Soho location. "I'm sure the food is legendary, but I've been to enough launches for one life. The work leading up to it is the good part."

"Spoken like a true Russo," he said, recalling me to his long career as a civil servant for the Veterans Affairs office. The low-level administration he did in Colorado didn't make any big waves, but he dedicated himself to doing the best he possibly could for the veterans in his district through shifting budgets and changing times.

My ambitions were always different than Grandpa's, but it was his example that helped me steer clear of the flashy distractions in the city and truly achieve the success I had always wanted.

It also gave me the clarity to know when it was time to return home for a long visit. I'd tasted success and wealth the way a wolf tastes blood, but at my core, I knew what truly mattered, and I'd been meaning to come back for a long stay ever since Grandma passed.