Sincerely,
Janey
P.S. I included a picture of him in case this helps.
I scramble to look inside the envelope and find the photo. When I lock eyes on electric blue eyes that match both mine and my mother’s, every muscle in my body stiffens. The sound that comes out of me is soft and guttural at first. Then, it becomes a wail. By the time it reaches hysteria-level screams, Elias finds me, dropping onto the bench beside me.
“Nora,” he says, voice tight with worry. “Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?”
I burst into tears and thrust the letter at him. He reads through it much quicker than I did. The words that come out of his mouth are fowl and certainly not Grandma-approved, but I was certainly thinking them.
“What do we do?” I croak out.
He hugs me and kisses the top of my head. “We pack a bag. We’re going to California.”
Panic consumes me at what this could mean, but then a strawberry-scented breeze washes over me. My dragonfly friend lands on the letter, flutters its wings, and then zips off.
We’re doing this. We’re really doing this.
The ten-hour drive to San Francisco was not my first choice for transportation considering we could have gotten there hours sooner by plane, but it did give me time to calm down and think.
When I needed Denver most, he kept me busy with work and held me back from the closure I needed with my grandma. Elias packed our bags, loaded and gassed up his truck, and drove us late into the night to our destination. I was in a daze, buthe handled everything for me. Booked a hotel room with two beds, made sure to feed me, and assured me his brother, Corbin, would house sit and care for the budgies while we were gone.
This is the realness I’d craved with Denver but never received.
Loving someone is more than just grand gestures or date nights or pretty flowers. It’s caring for you in your lowest points when you don’t have it in you to care for yourself.
My heart entwines a little more with Elias’s. It further complicates my decisions, but right now, I don’t have to think about it.
It’s possible we’ve found my grandfather.
In my gut, I know it to be true.
“Do you want to call your mom?” Elias asks as we park at Serene Water Memory Care Facility.
As much as I want her here to be a part of this, I can’t do that to her. Not until I know for sure. She dealt with Grandma for decades as she wished and waited for Grandpa to come home. I need to be one-hundred percent positive.
“Not yet,” I say shakily. “I’m ready to do this.”
He climbs out of the truck and moves faster than I’ve ever seen him go. Then, he opens the door for me and helps me out. Our fingers thread together and it’s grounding. It feels right. Like I can be stronger with him by my side.
Partners.
I chew on my lip, so I don’t start crying. I’m grateful for Elias. He loved my grandma when we weren’t around. I’m sure that love will never go away. She would be so pleased to see us doing this together.
As we approach the facility, I quickly send Janey a text letting her know we’re here. When I’d texted her yesterday saying we were coming, she was thrilled and hopeful. For everyone’s sake, I want this to be real.
A nurse waves at us near a tree where an elderly man sits in a parked wheelchair beside her. The tiny sprite of a woman must be Janey.
“Are you Nora?” she calls out.
“That’s me.”
She waves us over and studies me intently. I’m afraid to look at the old man in case we’ve got it all wrong. But finally, I force my eyes to lock with his.
Same eyes. Just like in the photo.
Except in person, they’re real. Like Mom’s. So familiar. Loving.
