Page 105 of Take Her On

When the last speaker had cleared, Jamie handed her glass to Alex, dusted her suit, and took her place at the front. Maya’s heart did little somersaults.

What is she doing?

Jamie searched in her back pocket before pulling out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, she cleared her throat, her eyes searching until she found Maya’s. Her heart squeezed.

Hannah, Maddie, and Alex looked on from the corner, expressions reflecting her own confusion and anticipation. Her mum rejoined her, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Jamie.

“Hi everyone,” Jamie started, her voice quieter than usual. “I didn’t know George long, but from the few times I met him, I could tell that he was a genuine and kind man. Unfortunately, I never got to meet my own grandparents, but seeing how much Maya adored hers, and they adored her, made me realise just how strong that bond can be.

“I don’t have many memories to share, apart from retelling the storylines of the Only Fools and Horses episodes we watched together—and George’s running commentary on those—but I wrote a little something I’d like to share with you.”

Maya’s mum leaned in to whisper, “Did Grandpa meet her before I did?”

Oops. Busted.

“Shh.” Maya nodded to Jamie, knowing she’d have to explain herself to Mum later.

“I love what Jeanette said,” Jamie went on, “about love being eternal and transcending time and physical space. That energy is something I believe in, too. So…erm…this is for George.”

Maya’s heart throbbed in her chest when she realised Jamie was going to read a poem. A poem she’d written, in fact.

The room was silent as she began reading.

“Some things are predictable, like the night and the moon.

When snow melts in the spring and life grows anew.

How darkness envelops us, and moonlight guides us.

You emerge in the newborn buds, awaiting your turn.

Our feet might not notice, sadness renders us unaware,

Of what’s growing in the seedlings,

Opening their hearts to morning air.

It starts with a whisper,

A quiet teasing to those who know,

In the winter you might leave us,

But in the springtime, you’ll grow.”

The room burst into applause. Grandma pulled Jamie into a hug, her cheeks wet, and Maya pushed her way through the other mourners to get closer. She ducked the swivel of Mrs Corstow’s eye-removing device, and the arms of a well-meaning relative, and took Jamie’s face between her hands. She crushed her lips to hers, melting at once into the feel of her and her cedar scent. Jamie kissed her back, hands firmly on her waist.

It took the wolf-whistles—most likely from her friends in the corner—to pull Maya out of her trance and back into the room. Her cheeks immediately flushed. She’d never done anything like that in front of her family before. Even Jamie appeared a little shellshocked.

“Did you really write that?” Maya asked.

Jamie nodded.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You really like it?”

“I love it.”