“And the fighting,” I teased.
He chuckled. “Well, the fighting led to the making up and the reminder of what we really fought for. Most times when we got to the root of the argument, we just realized we missed each other.”
We sat in silence as the record played on and on, and I thought about the countless injustices of the world and how it was always the gentlest, more innocent people who took the brunt of them. I wanted to assure him that he would never be alone. That I would always be there. That I was so bloody sorry for not being here every day, but I couldn’t find anything remotely encompassing for all the regret I felt.
George needed something more than I could provide. After all, it would be an empty promise. Frankie wanted me gone. Today hammered that fact in. George had to find people who would help him. I would never be enough.
“I’m so sorry, George,” I said, defeated and lost. It just slipped out.
He looked up and smiled. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. I have no complaints. William and I got more time than most.”
I sucked in my lips and nodded. He’d still been thinking about his partner.
“There weren’t many men like us who had the luxury of living together back then. We lied about him being my business partner to protect us. Fought often about it. But we also fought to make us work. Even when we were so mad, we could spit, we were always a team. We had nothing but challenges ahead of us but nothing felt more important than being together.”
He shrugged, still rocking slightly to the music. “We got more than most,” he repeated. “And we got to help raise all you kids.”
“Those memories of coming here in the summer, between filming. They’re the best memories I have. Charlie and Emma too,” I said, still raw with all this emotion.
He looked at me for a long moment. “That’s lovely,” he said, “but I hope that’s not true.”
I frowned.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m so thankful too. And it means so much to me. But you need to start making your own family and new memories. You can’t have your best memories be from all those years ago.”
A new pain gripped my chest. Another year passing where I still hadn’t found my person or started the family I thought I’d have.
“I don’t know that that’s in the cards for me, George.” I felt that realization deep in my bones. I peaked early in life, and though my career still thrived, I hadn’t felt alive like I had those summers in decades.
“You are so young, my boy. I don’t think I’d even met William at your age. Don’t act like your life is over. Young people make no sense,” George said.
It mirrored Collette’s words from just this morning, and I chuckled to myself as I somehow was lumped into both observations of other generations. “Profoundly astute,” I repeated.
“You act as though your life is over,” he said. “You have so much life left. So much time. Yet it gets faster every year. The absolute worst thing you could do is waste any of it.”
I sucked in a slow breath.
“I know life is tragic.” He reached out a shaking hand to grab mine. I held him as tightly as I could without hurting his dry, crepe-paper skin. “I know what’s happening to me is …”
“Utter bullocks,” I said with a sniff.
“Indeed.” He chuckled. “But you have to understand, I don’t regret a thing in my old age. Not a damn thing. I was luckier than most,” he said. “But I think that’s because I always acted as though it could all change in an instant. And instead of being fearful of that fact, I embraced it and lived, my boy. Ilived.” He nudged his cane at me. “It’s time you decided to do the same.”
I held his gaze a long moment, swallowing with difficulty.
“Okay,” I said, wondering how somebody just decided that. I didn’t want to leave here. Not yet. I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. “I’ll try, George.”
“You owe me that much,” he said with a wink.
We sat a little while longer, not wanting to leave the comfort of this moment. Eventually, the cool spring evening started to bring a chill.
“Let’s head in and get to bed,” I said.
George nodded and let me help him back up to the house.
Inside, the house was straightened up, and the mood was silent with nighttime.
Frankie stood just inside the threshold of the kitchen with her hands clutched in front of her as though she’d been waiting there. The kitchen smelled like cleaner andhome.
