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“What did you come up with?”
“Flowers, the usual. I sent white chocolate-covered strawberries as well.”
“Good. Good. That’s about all I wanted.”
From the moment he laid eyes on Nature all those years ago, he claimed her as mine forever. Pops didn’t let a year go by, even after our split, without wishing her a happy birthday and making sure I did the same. He knew her number better than he did any of us boys, although, he hardly used it.
She was somewhat like a daughter to him. He’d lost his daughter-in-law so long ago. The death of my aunt triggered those emotions he felt when my mother and father died of murder-suicide. Those were scary times for him, but he mustered the strength and kept pushing. He never imagined a world without his children.
Pops always knew that he’d leave the earth before they did, but he was wrong. His wife, son, and daughter were gone. Anna, Malachi’s wife, had even left him. All he had was his six grandsons, great-granddaughter, and great-grandson. He cherished each and every one of us because he knew tomorrow wasn’t promised to anyone.
“Every year, Pops?” I chuckled.
“Until you stop making a mockery of the love you two birthed and won’t ever find again, yes, son. Every year. She might not act like it, but she’d be crushed if either of us forgot her day. Those gifts you send to her parents’ home each year, she secretly looks forward to them. Waits for them. Expects them.
“It’s the only reason she visits on that day in particular. Don’t stop. They maintain your relevance in her world and keep hope for you two alive. If she didn’t believe there was any, she would’ve asked you to stop sending them long, long ago.”
Taking in his words, I inhaled until my lungs filled to capacity.
“You think there’s a chance for us?”
My delusion was apparent. Everyone knew that when it came to Nature, I believed the unbelievable. But confirmation from my grandfather on this very day would assure me that I wasn’t a complete fool and there was a bit of truth to my delusion.
It didn’t matter how many years passed, how many women I’d gone through, how many years she’s spent sporting a title that she was untrue to, or how much she pretended not to harbor feelings for me; I, wholeheartedly, believed that Nature was the end for me. Everything stopped with her, for her. The second she professed her undying love for me or aspirations of being in my world and letting me back into hers, it would all end.
“When you truly, truly love someone, Milo, it doesn’t just die. Life happens and that love creeps into a dark hole, hoping to never be discovered again. Even if they’ve wronged you, you learn to love them less, but it’s almost impossible not to love them anymore if you ever really did. Nature’s love for you has been shelved, but it exists.
“Each year on the morning of her birthday when she opens her eyes, she’s reminded of that package she sat on the shelf. When she hurries to her childhood home to see what’s waiting for her there, she’s climbing that shelf. And just as she opens the pleasant surprises you have for her, she opens that box she sealed your history and her love for you inside.
“It’s not until the day ends and another begins that she sits it back up there, right where she put it so that she’ll know where to find it the next year. I’m not telling you to wait around until she’s ready to keep that box open forever, but I am telling you that it’ll happen one day.”
“Maybe it’s today.”
“How do you figure?”
“She agreed to go on a date with me.”
“Shut yo’ mouth, boy,” he exclaimed.
I could hear the inclination of his mood. His heart was happy hearing the news.
“Nah, Pops. I’m serious. I just left the hospital, making my rounds. I feel like a damn boy about to get his first piece of pussy back in the day. It’s only a date. We’ve had plenty, but it feels like a first.”
“First of many,” he interrupted. “That’s good. That’s good. It should feel this way. It’s been a while for the two of you, but I’m wishing nothing but the best for both of you, whether together or apart. I just hope like hell it’s together.”
“I’m taking her to Stacks.”
“The steakhouse?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah. She might not shelve that box so soon after tonight. A Stack’s steak is worth just about as much as what’s in that bo—”
“Woah! I disagree.”
“Yeah. I hear ya.”
“I’m pulling up to the house, old man. I’ll catch you later, aight?”
