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Chapter Two
Seymour
April 11th…
A day and a half later and I’m still kicking my own ass for what I said to Hannah. I was joking – at first, yet the more I thought about it, it begin making sense.
My intent had been to find a place in Sweetville and have grandpa live with me, as Hannah was trying to do with her grandma. Since she and I wanted the same thing, and our respective grandparents didn’t want to be apart again. There was only one way to accomplish both. Hannah didn’t exactly disagree, nor did she agree. She simply stared at me, as if I’d grown a second head, out of my ear, then gotten behind the wheel and left. It took far too long to gather my mental shit and head toward my own ride.
The whole drive, I’d vacillated between beating myself up for what I’d suggested and not getting her number. The possibility of the latter happening is probably as slim as the former now.
I should be thankful she didn’t call the cops on me for being a creeper. I essentially insinuated that we should live together…less than two hours after meeting. Hopefully she doesn’t share that with her grandma who would then tell my grandpa. He’d threaten to take me to the woodshed and beat my ass for talking that way to a lady.
He may have forty years on me, but I truly think he could and would. Grandpa is still in fighting shape, as he calls it, from when he was in the Marines. He could live on his own if he wanted to, which is the crux of the matter. He doesn’t.
After Grandma passed, he couldn’t stand to remain in their house. Said she was everywhere and it hurt to know it was only through memories. Swore up and down he wanted a fresh start and I agreed to help give it to him. I just hadn’t realized this was what he had in mind.
Personally, I think the man that once feared nothing is scared to be alone. It’s pretty much just me and him, and has been for years, but I was out of the country more often than not until recently. My parents wiped their hands of him, or more accurately vice versa, when it became clear how little they cared about me or him.
Now that I’m stateside for the foreseeable future, I want to spend time with him. And yes, live with him. It may sound odd to some that a guy in his twenties wants to bunk with another in his sixties, but I disagree.
It’s all about perspective.
Family.
There may be other relatives, yet the truth is, he and I are the only one the other has. It’s disappointing, for me, that the idea I had to stay together and create memories may not come to fruition. But in all honesty, having them are what matter, not the manner in which they’re made.
He and I can still have them if he’s at the retirement village. There may not be as many, or they won’t be the same as they could be, but it’s the principle that’s important.
I won’t lie, though. When I arrive to visit him I quickly cross and uncross my fingers that I’ll see Hannah’s SUV in the lot. It’s a silly superstition that carried over from childhood, one I haven’t been able to break.
I don’t want to get too excited as she’d be here to see her grandma, not me or my grandpa, but she is here. Which means perhaps I can apologize.
Nearing Grandpa, I’m thrilled when I hear female voices mingling with his. I may have only heard them for the first time recently, but they’re already locked in my brain.
I knock on the wood, waiting for permission to enter, even though the door is open as if they’re expecting me. The looks on their faces warn me that something was going on before I got here. I don’t see guilt, so that’s a plus.
I give my grandpa a hug. I don’t know if Enola wants the same, so I wait and see. When she does the universal come here signal, I wrap her in one. The strength she possesses is a bit of a shock for such a tiny thing. Catching the widening of my eyes, and maybe the sound that left me as she squeezed tight, has Hannah smirking.
“She Hulk hugs. I should’ve warned you,” she admits with a twinkle that belies her statement. As does the snicker when I raise a brow, clearly questioning her attempt at regret.
“We were just discussing you, my boy,” Grandpa informs me.
“I didn’t do it.” The other three laugh. “Closer to thirty than twenty, yet it’s still an instinctual response,” I sheepishly explain.
“Sometimes it’s fun to be the cause of mischief,” Enola wisely imparts. Hannah glances at her in shock. “What? I was young once, too.”
“The stories I could tell,” Grandpa helpfully supplies.
“Could, but won’t,” Enola corrects him, adding just in case he’s not convinced, “because I could return the favor.” That has Grandpa miming zipping his lips.
“You two are cute,” Hannah declares. Then she thoughtfully looks around the room, her gaze going to me last and landing there. “I do believe your idea could work.”
I want to give a yippee or something else inappropriate and childish, but I don’t. Because I’m an adult…and there are people watching. Later, perhaps once I’m in my truck.
“What’s this you’re yammering on about?” Grandpa asks Hannah. He doesn’t mean it in an insulting way. He merely hates feeling as if he’s been left out of the loop.
“Seymour walked me to my SUV yesterday—”
