Anxious Hart

Chapter Eight

Sitting on the beach, I poked the dry sand with the stick I was holding. The salty air was cool this morning as it whipped through my hair. I squinted against the misty breeze, watching Riley dance and gallop against the tide in the distance.

“It suits you,” a voice called behind me, making me turn my head and smile.

“How so, old man?” I asked as I lifted my hand to shield my eyes.

Grandpa chuckled as he slowly made his way through the sand to his favorite chair a few feet from where I was seated. He slapped the cushion before easing himself into the seat with a grunt. I noticed his movements were more rigid and stiff on this visit, but I didn’t want to say anything. Partially for my own denial, partially to protect his pride.

We sat in silence for a moment, watching my dog chase gulls and listen to the rhythm of the ocean. I could not help but watch him out of the corner of my eye. He had more wrinkles than I remembered. His eyes still held that mischievous twinkle, like always had a joke up his sleeve but he was waiting for the ideal time to reveal to his audience. His hair had grown back now that he was in remission from his cancer. He did not have a lot of hair in his older years, yet he was heartbroken when the chemo had stripped him primarily of that main physical feature. He wasn’t fazed with lost weight, but he wanted his hair and dignity. I suppose all should have such simple request granted in our final years.

Clearing his throat, I turned my full attention to him. “So, you’re really going to marry him?”

Nodding, I looked at the ring on my finger. It sparkled in the Massachusetts sun beautifully on my finger, but still didn’t look quite right. “I am,” I said half-heartedly.

Grandpa scoffed. “He doesn’t deserve you, honey.”

I knew he was watching me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I stared down the beach in front of me as I twirled the engagement ring on my finger.

“I’m not just saying it because of his political affiliation, although I did raise you better,” my grandfather continued with a hint of humor to his tone. “I worry. The man lacks integrity. You were by his side through thick and thin for ten years before he sacked up and tried to make an honest woman out of you.”

“Now who’s being old fashioned?” I teased, lifting a brow at him. “Albert Hart, I pegged you as one to support your granddaughter’s feminist liberation.” I rose to my feet, dusting the sand off my shorts.

“Quit trying to be cute, dammit. I don’t have forever and I have things to say.” He was agitated, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the chair and tapping his leg. This was not Grandpa’s normal behavior.

Kneeling beside him, I placed a calming hand over his tapping fingers. Taking his other hand in mine, I looked at Grandpa with a gentle smile. “What’s really on your mind, Grandpa?”

He let out a deep breath and shook his head. “Claire, what happened with Zack?”

Releasing his hands, I began to step away with protest. Ever since prom night, Zack Perrin had not darkened the doors of our home in my presence. I had not talked to him or about him. My grandparents tried to broach the topic over the years, but after almost two decades, I still was silent.

“Claire Elizabeth, do not run away from me. I’m old and tired and the last thing I want in this world is to watch my own flesh and blood continue making the same mistake out of pride or whatever the hell happened eons ago. I’m not a fool and I’m not blind. You two had something special. Zack was not just a guy you meet every day. He was honorable and he would have walked through fire for you.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I avoided Grandpa’s stare. Even after all this time, I could not force myself to tell him what happened that night. Deep down I knew it wasn’t Zack’s fault, but I could not face him. The scars were too deep, the pain too fresh and the shame was intense. Even though I had buried it, the very thought of him brought the tears back to the surface.

“It’s a nice fairytale, Grandpa,” I whispered, praying the tears would not fall. “Sometimes life does not work that way.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Have you even talked to the boy? Have you tried?”

“Not since prom night,” I scoffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Grandpa, he didn’t even attend Grandma’s funeral. If we were destined, a fairytale, wouldn’t my ‘prince’ actually be around?”

“Maybe you aren’t looking hard enough.”

Rolling my eyes, a single tear slipped down my cheek. Shaking my head, I pursed my lips and avoided his stare.

“Zack is a good man, Claire. Do not give up on him. What you two have is eternal. Take it from someone who lived the fairytale.”

I looked at Grandpa, a small smile on my face. Even as a retired military man who had witnessed some of the evils of mankind firsthand in battle, yet he was still a romantic at heart. He was staring at the sandy shoreline, smiling at the memory of my Grandma. “She was an angel, dancing with the wind. It was her favorite thing to do. It always made her feel free. She was a beautiful dancer.”

His misty eyes shifted to mine. “Your grandmother was my fairytale. I know my happy ending rests on that beach, with her, where we can dance every day in the breeze.”

“That’s a beautiful fairytale, Grandpa,” I nodded. “But my reality no longer has room for fairytales.”

“Never give up on fairytales, kid. If we give up on those, we have nothing left at the end of the day in this cruel world.”

Inhaling sharply, I woke up with a start. It took a few moments for my surroundings to register.

I was on the sofa in my childhood home, wrapped in on of Grandma’s handmade quilts. The morning sun hadn’t even started to peek above the horizon yet, but faint traces of pinks and purples began to blend into the fading night sky through the windows. Riley was fast asleep on the floor, curled in a Golden ball of fluff on the rug.

It took a moment before I realized I was not alone on the couch. As I shifted my hips slightly, I finally felt the arm around my waist pull me closer.

Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed a figure peacefully snuggled against my back. It took a moment before it registered that Zack stayed the night. He was still fast asleep, holding me close. My back was resting against his chest which occasionally brushed my body with his deep breathing.

I wasn’t shocked to find him there, holding me. My heart actually swelled a little to know that he stayed to make sure I was okay. It was something we always did in our teen years during difficult times, but I wasn’t expecting it now. It definitely was not something I considered after not speaking for almost 20 years.

Turning my body as smoothly as I could, I adjusted myself to face him on the deep couch. It was impressive both of us could fit on it so comfortably without smothering the other person. Zack’s arm remained on my waist and he continued to peacefully doze as I allowed my mind to wander.

Examining his face, my mind flashed back to my dream. It was like yesterday when I had that last visit with Grandpa a few months ago. I came to visit him after Andrew proposed and he tried to talk me out of it. The entire visit Grandpa was encouraging me to reconnect with Zack, yet I never understood why. Hints had been dropped over the years, but Grandpa was so adamant at that point. Did he know his time was coming? Was he still sick and hiding it from me? And what did he mean by “Maybe you aren’t looking hard enough”?

My eyes traveled across Zack’s face. I would be lying if I did not admit that the years had been kind to him. He was still handsome as ever. Even though he was older with a few soft wrinkles, I could still see the youth shining through him. His long eyelashes, his shaggy hair, that manly stubble on his chin. Even after dealing with my rollercoaster emotions in his day-old clothes, he still smelled amazing as he held me close.

Closing my eyes, I tried to force myself back to sleep. My mind was distracted by reminder of my dream, Grandpa’s words, and Zack’s body touching mine. I couldn’t let go of my consciousness, so I decided to get up to take Riley for a walk.

Quietly putting on my shoes, I slipped out the patio door, closing it silently behind me. Riley followed me as I tip-toed across the deck and into the sand. It was another cloudy morning on the beach. The hidden sunrise cast shades of pink, orange, and blues across the horizon. The air was still cool as gulls began to call and Riley chased them with the crashing waves.

Pulling my sweater closer to my body, I kicked off my shoes to feel the sand between my toes. I decided to just leisurely carry my shoes as I followed my dog up the coast.