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“Good afternoon, Miss Candy. I’m Robin Carter…your daughter said you’d be expecting me?”
She smiles and lowers her feet to the porch, stopping the swaying of the porch swing. She lets go of her knitting needles and pats the spot next to her. “Of course dear. Please sit down.”
I do as I’m told. Candy is very beautiful, even in her old age. Her silver hair lies in front of her shoulders in long curls, binned back at the bangs with a rhinestone bobby pin. She wears winged eyeliner and red lipstick and half a dozen golden rings on her fingers. If we traveled back in time forty years, she’d look like a hot pinup girl.
She picks up her knitting and focuses on the stitches. “So what things do you like to talk about, dear?”
“Oh,” I say, a little hesitantly. Did I accidently drive to the wrong house and am talking to the wrong woman? “Your daughter didn’t tell you what I wanted to talk about?”
She shakes her head. “I figured she was just sending another person to keep me company while she’s busy. She always does that, you know. She thinks I can’t manage things by myself, but I am quite happy by myself sometimes.”
I swallow and she must feel like she just insulted me because she looks me in the eyes and immediately adds, “But this is a beautiful day and I always prefer spending beautiful days with friends. I’m so happy you could join me.”
“Thank you. She actually sent me here for a reason,” I say, tangling my fingers together as I try to figure out a way to bring up the subject of her lost love as non-awkwardly as possible. “She told me that you’ve grown up here and you knew just about everyone. I was hoping you could tell me some information about my grandfather.”
She nods, pressing her lips together as if sharing information to a total stranger is an everyday sort of thing for her. “Of course. Who is your grandfather?”
Part of me isn’t sure she’ll even know him. I have no real evidence that he’s ever been to Salt Gap. An old photo sealed in a countertop hardly counts as evidence. So even though this endeavor will be pointless, at least I can check off one thing on my to-do list.
“His name was Joseph Carter. He died a few months ago.”
Ms. Candy frowns and the small fragment of hope I hadn’t realized I was holding onto deflates inside of my chest. Of course she doesn’t know who he is. I was stupid to even try.
She reaches out and grabs my hand, her wrinkly fingers feeling very cold against my skin. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Seems the older I live, the more times I have to say goodbye to friends.”
“You knew him?” My words are raspy over the lump that forms in my throat. A pool of tears forms in the corner of her eyes but she dabs at it lightly with a tissue so as not to smudge her eyeliner.
She smiles and her eyes seem to pierce into my soul as she looks me over. “Yes dear, I knew Joe. I haven’t seen him since the day after Carol died.”
Chills prickle over my arms. Ms. Candy’s head tilts to the side and she squeezes my arm. “How lovely. I can see so much of them in you. Carol had a widow’s peak just like yours and those dark eyes are definitely Joe’s.”
I smile back at her, filled with gratitude and a sort of proudness that’s hard to explain. I’m happy that she sees my grandfather in me. He was a far better person than I’ll ever be. “How did you know him?” I ask.
She clasps her hands in her lap on top of the yarn work as if she’s finished talking. A few seconds pass in silence. Finally, she turns to me and gives me a warm yet coy smile. “Honey I’m not sure you want to know that part.”
My eyebrows narrow. “Wha—” I begin to ask, before the bright red flush in her cheeks makes me realize how naive I’ve been. My mouth hangs open mid-sentence until, a few awkward seconds later, I slap my hand over it.
She bursts into laugher and shakes her head. “Heavens, girl. It’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”
I let out my breath in a slow gush of air. “Please tell me. I need to know. Did he live here?”
“Yes ma’am,” Ms. Candy says. “He lived just down the road from the library in a little farm house. He was born in this town and for a while, I thought he wanted to die in it.” She points off into the distance and I glance in that direction but only see trees.
“That’s so weird,” I murmur. “I guess I figured he grew up in Houston. He never talked about living anywhere else. My mom didn’t have any grandparents because they had died before she was born.”
She nods. “Joe’s parents died very young. He was still in high school. I went to their funerals.”
“So…you were close with him?”
Another nod. Her eyes seem far away. “Girl, I don’t mean to cross a line here, but you want the truth so I’ll tell it to you. I was in love with Joe Carter. Absolutely head over heels for him.”
“So you dated him?” I ask, hoping to god that she’s not going to reveal some secret affair with my honorable grandfather whom I refuse to believe could ever do anything wrong.
She shakes her head. “Nope. I sure wanted to. I remember meeting him in grade school and I’m pretty sure I fell in love with him right there on the monkey bars at recess. But he was always in love with Carol. He was a good man and he loved your grandmother more than anything else in this world. He was a hopeless romantic, you know.”
“Hopeless, eh?” I say with a little laugh. Grandpa was a businessman. Dedicated to his job and his clients. He wasn’t romantic. I look at his watch on my wrist and twist it around to see the time.
“He was incredible. Always doing little romantic things for Carol. He’d have carved their initials in every tree in town if he’d had the time.”
