“So, when are you kids going to shit or get off the pot?”
Lucy looks over at Trip and I just shake my head at him as I continue to eat.
He invited us over for dinner and we’ve been having a nice, normal conversation about the jobs he’s been working on around the island and the orders I’ve taken the last few weeks.
“Seriously, it’s getting a little annoying watching you two pussy-foot around each other. When are you getting remarried so you can start popping out some great-grandkids for me?” Trip asks casually.
Lucy starts to choke on the mouthful of food she was chewing and my silverware clatters to the plate at Trip’s question. I quickly reach over and pat Lucy on the back, shooting Trip a dirty look. He sticks his tongue out at me before grabbing Lucy’s glass and holding it in front of her.
She snatches it from his hand and gulps down half the glass. This old man is getting on my last nerve. He’s been asking that same question every time I’ve stopped by to grab clean clothes, since I’ve practically moved out of his house and into the inn. Each time I’ve told him to mind his own business and that I didn’t want to rush things with Lucy, but clearly he thinks rushing and being nosy is the way to get things done.
“How about we discuss why you’ve never gotten remarried?” I ask, turning the conversation back on him. “Fifty years is a long time to be alone.”
Lucy gently sets her glass down and looks at Trip in wonder, holding her breath and waiting for him to answer. She’s asked me that question a few times over the years and I never gave it much thought until recently. My grandfather, though annoying at times, is a good, hardworking man. He’s handsome for an old guy and I’ve seen him flirt with plenty of women around town, so I know he’s still got some spark left in him. I’ve never understood why he wanted to be alone for all of these years, why he never fell in love again after my grandmother died.
Trip pushes his plate away from him and folds his hands together on the table in front of him.
“Fifty years IS a long time to be alone, but I’d rather be alone with my memories than to try and fake something with another woman,” he tells us.
“Why would you have to fake anything? You don’t think you could love someone else?” Lucy asks him softly.
“I KNOW I couldn’t love someone else,” he informs her, before turning his face to look at me. “Your grandmother, she was an amazing woman. I wish you could’ve met her, Fisher. She was beautiful, smart, kind and she loved me more than I ever deserved. We grew up together, did I ever tell you that?”
I shake my head in silence, not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking. Trip rarely speaks about my grandmother, and it’s amazing to hear about her and their relationship now.
“Yep, we were practically raised together as babies. Our parents were best friends and always did things together, so the two of us were forced to be together. Oh, she hated me when we were kids,” he says with a laugh. “She was two years younger than me and I liked to tease the ever-living hell out of her. I’d pull her pigtails and chase her around the island. I didn’t tell her until we were older that the only reason I did that stuff was to get her to chase me back.”
Lucy puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hands and I lay my arm on the back of her chair, twirling the ends of her hair in my fingers as we listen to my grandfather talk.
“It wasn’t until we were teenagers that I stopped annoying her so much. Or maybe she just realized that I only did things to piss her off so she’d notice me. I’d been in love with that girl for as long as I could remember, so finding out she loved me back was nothing short of a miracle. We got married before we even finished high school and got busy starting a family as soon as we got our diplomas,” he explains with a wistful look in his eyes. “It took a few years before we had your father, but it didn’t matter because we sure had a lot of fun trying.”
He winks at Lucy and she laughs while he continues.
“There’s nothing worse than watching the woman you love slowly slip away from you. Watching her get sick, sitting by her morning, noon and night and knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop the hands of time from ticking by so fast it’s like they’re in hyper speed,” Trip tells us.
Lucy wipes a tear from her eye and I move my arm off of the chair to rub slow circles against her back. Lucy knew the basic history of what happened to my grandmother, the same history and facts that I knew: they were married, they had my father and a few short years later, she died from stomach cancer. Hearing my grandfather talk so openly and lovingly about her is wonderful and sad all at the same time.
“I’ve never tried looking for someone else to love because I know that no one will ever compare to her. Some people can fall in and out of love and that’s great for them. They can find someone else and they can move on, but I’m not one of those people. I found my soul mate when I was a child and she will always be the love of my life, no matter how many years go by,” he tells us with a sad smile. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss her, that I don’t wish things could’ve been different. That I don’t wish she’d been here to raise your father and make him a better, kinder man. That she could’ve met you, Fisher, and seen her grandson and what a strong, loyal man he turned out to be. I’m not sad about not finding anyone else. Sure, I get lonely from time to time, but I’ve got my memories of the love of the best woman I’ve ever known to keep me company. I’d much rather have those memories than try and pretend with someone else.”