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“Was it a good story?”
“Yes! Grandma’s the best at telling stories! But we haven’t finished it yet...”
“You can finish after lunch, honey. Come on, go get your big brothers, I made your favorite.”
“Pasta!” exclaimed the baby girl. “Yes!”
Then, she ran toward the house, followed by the excited dogs. Meanwhile, he turned toward the older lady left behind. With the little girl gone, the only dog left moved to her lap, and she petted him on the head.
“You made your father’s pasta?” she asked as he approached.
“To make my mom happy,” he said. “I know your favorite...”
He sat next to her, giving her a smile. Eden caressed his cheek, gently.
“Thank you, Julian.”
“Of course. Anything for the best grandma ever.”
“Oh,” she chuckled. “I’m a better grandmother than I was a mom...”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, my mom was the best mom.”
Eden chuckled, and he leaned to give her a kiss against her blonde hair. She was starting to get a few more white hairs, but it strangely blended in well with the platinum blonde. She was a young grandmother and, even with a few wrinkles she refused to ever hide, she was still as beautiful as he had always known her to be. After exchanging a knowing look, he leaned his head against her shoulder, taking her hand.
“...I mean it, you know,” he said.
“Thank you, my love. But you don’t know how many times I almost killed you.”
He laughed.
“Mom! You’re not supposed to say stuff like that to your kids.”
“Oh, you’re big enough. And you know too.”
“Of course, I know. I still remember the time you and Uncle Jack fought for about an hour about your non-existent cooking skills.”
“He thought I was starving you,” she rolled her eyes. “How could I have known my son was a picky eater?”
“I’m not picky, Mom, you are a terrible cook. Which is why I had to learn.”
“That was all according to my plan, to have you feed me when I’m older.”
“Nice plan. I’m never going to be able to leave you alone.”
“See? Your mom is the smartest.”
He chuckled, and they stayed like this for a little while. From the couch, they could see the entire house and the skyscrapers in the background. It was definitely her favorite spot, she could spend all day there. Which is why he had built this whole patio, and even a small coffee table to put her tea on.
“...I loved when you sang to me the most,” he muttered. “Even when I was sad, as long as I heard you sing, everything seemed to be fine. I know why my daughter loves to hear you.”
“Your dad loved it too,” said Eden.
“Dad had good taste. …Do you miss him?”
She took a little while to answer, although this wasn’t his first time asking. Perhaps because she was truly pondering the question every time, Eden always took an extra minute to sincerely question herself. She turned to look at her son. He had grown up to look more like her than his dad. Still, she could see parts of Dante in him sometimes, more in his character. He was stubborn, headstrong, and very protective of her and their family. He had the exact same smile too.
“Not when I look at you,” she smiled.
