Charles had us move a blanket a little too close to the shore, if you ask me. But he said he wanted to be away from everyone. He had his legs spread open as I sat between them – my back against his chest. Snuggled against his chest I couldn’t think of a better place to be. He pulled back my hair and nibbled on my neck.
“Be careful there Mr. Dupree,” I said breathless. “We aren’t alone.”
“Too bad we’re not,” he said coming up for air.
The servers passed out flutes of champagne as we waited for the fireworks to begin. Under the stars with the sound of the waves Charles squeezed me tight. All I could think of was how much I loved this man. I truly could not think of my life without him.
We took a sip of champagne and the fireworks began. Colorful, sparkling, booming sounds. I could feel the vibrations in my stomach. The colors were amazing. I couldn’t stop grinning I was so happy at that very moment. As the display was about to end Charles kissed me on my neck, he turned me toward him and kissed my lips.
With our lips only about an inch apart from each other Charles said, “Simone, you know I love you more than words can say. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
I brushed my hand down his cheek – so much in love with this face; with this man.
“Charles, I want nothing more than to spend my life with you. I love you.”
“I love you too babe.”
Just then I heard a big boom and people around us gasped. Charles turned my head toward the fireworks. On the barge were letters with sparks coming out of them they read, “Simone, will you marry me?”
I gasped. Feeling a little light headed I turned to Charles and looked in his eyes as he looked in mine.
“Yes, baby, yes. I’ll marry you!”
The salt from our tears mixed in with our kiss.
“I love you!” we both said over and over again as the people all around us clapped and cheered and the ocean’s waves engulfed our blanket and our legs. We didn’t care about getting wet sand in our toes or even the people around us. We had each other and a love worth waiting for.
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As I open my car door and begin to walk on the grass it hits me…just like it does every time I come here. The quiet is unnerving. No, I don’t expect anyone to be holding a conversation but there are no birds singing, no crickets chirping. Even the trees rustle in silence in the gentle breeze on this beautiful sunny autumn day.
No longer having to count the rows I walk up to my grandparents’ tombstone… Jack and Debra Winthrop. Rarely seeing one without the other in life it’s not surprising that they wanted to be buried in the same grave.
It has been a few years since they both left us. Married for over 69 years at the time of Grandpa’s death we should not have been surprised when Grandma died exactly one month shy of the first anniversary of Grandpa’s death. But it still came as a surprise when she closed her eyes for the last time. Never again would I look into those light brown eyes…touch her soft skin...run my hand down her silky hair. Never again would I hear the sound of her soft sweet voice.
“Happy 74th Anniversary,” I said looking down at the tombstone. I laid a bouquet of blue hydrangeas in front of the stone. Blue was Grandma’s favorite color.
“Sorry I haven’t been here in a few months. Work has been keeping me busy. But there is no way I was going to miss today. I miss you two so much it still hurts. I know you couldn’t stay here forever and I know you needed to be together. But geez…I’m still reaching for the phone to call you. Last week I was on the Parkway and out of habit got off at your exit. When does this go away? Does this ever go away?
The holidays will be upon us soon. It looks like it’ll just be the boys and me again this year. Everything has changed since you’ve been gone. No more big family dinners for the holidays. No more Open House. To be honest since Aunt Catherine passed away a few months ago, I really have no desire to celebrate the holidays at all. Yes, I hear you. Have to keep tradition. But it’s hard when everyone is scattered and your heart is broken.”
Mentally shaking my head and ignoring my heavy heart I changed the subject.
“So,” I said trying not to depress myself any further, “I wanted you to know that Thomas got a promotion at that Non-profit financial organization. I’m finally over him not wanting to take a job at my firm. He wants to help the ‘regular people’ find their way through the financial world. Not the ‘fat cats’ I audit,” I laughed. “He’s doing well, he’s happy and he’s helping people. I guess that’s all that matters. Aiden loves his career as a Sports Agent. He’s seriously thinking of starting his own business. But I don’t know…I’m nervous about him taking that chance. Yes, Grandpa,” I chuckled. “I can hear you say over and over ‘there’s nothing like being your own boss’. Aiden quotes you each and every time I try to convince him to go to a larger firm instead of going on his own.”
A little more subdued I began, “As for me? I’m doing ok. Like I said before, work has been keeping me busy.” I hesitated. “Yes I hear you Grandma. No, there’s still no special man in my life. It’s been almost a year since I said I was ready to be with someone. But to be honest with you, I haven’t met anyone who doesn’t get on my nerves after 5 minutes. Grandma, you once told me that I’d know right away when I met the right man. Just like it happened with you and Grandpa. Well I haven’t met him. Not sure I ever will. I don’t know…maybe he’s just not out there. Maybe I’m meant to be alone. Who knows?
“Maybe the problem is I’m looking for something like what you two had. I don’t know,” I hesitated again. “Maybe your kind of love doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe this is all there is for me. Maybe I should just keep concentrating on my work. Now that the boys are grown…maybe that’s what I should do.” Looking down at my watch, “Speaking of work I better get to the office. I have a meeting this morning.”
I bent down and rubbed my hand over the top of the tombstone. As I brushed my hands over the writing that said “Forever in Our Hearts” tears began to fill my eyes. “I love you Grandma and Grandpa. I miss you…till we meet again.”
Just then I looked up. A few yards away I saw a young couple in an embrace. Where did they come from, I thought? I looked around to see if there was a car in the area. All I saw was my car. Where did they come from, I thought again? As I looked at the couple I saw them kiss. They began to stare at each other as if no one else was there.
They turned to me and smiled. I raised my hand to say hello but then I stopped. The couple seemed to look familiar. I then realized they were dressed in 1930s clothing. It suddenly dawned on me that the young couple was actually my grandma and grandpa. They looked so young, just as they did in their wedding pictures. My heart seemed to skip a beat. The tears I tried to hold back flowed freely down my cheeks. Here they were, with all the ups and downs life had brought them. Here they were together…just the two of them. And that’s all that seemed to matter.
They disappeared as quickly as they seemed to have appeared. In shock I walked back to my car wondering if what I saw was real or just a figment of my imagination. The further I got from the cemetery and the closer I got to the office the more I began to think it was just my imagination. Maybe I was working too hard. Maybe I needed a mini-vacation.
As I parked my car at the office complex and walked inside the building I mentally pictured my calendar. There was no way I could take any time off any time soon. Get to work girl, I said to myself.
As I pushed the button for the elevator to arrive I thought…back to reality.
As I entered the elevator, I felt someone walk past me. Not looking up I pressed my button and nonchalantly asked the other passenger “What floor?”
The baritone voice said, “Third floor please.”
I turned to the sound of the voice…..
The End
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Westchester County in the suburbs of New York City Sylvia Crim-Brown was alwa
ys in love with the art of writing. During summer vacations, as a child, she would get up early in the morning and head to the woods in the back of her grandparents’ house armed with the family German Shepherd for company; a picnic lunch, a notebook and several pencils. Sylvia would sit under a tree or near the pond and stay there for hours writing poems and short stories. She would only stop and go back home when she realized it was late and that her grandparents would be worried and come looking for her.
As an English Major in college in upstate New York she dreamed of writing “the great American novel” one day. But through life’s ups and downs she found herself working in the world of Finance and her first love was put on hold.
Even though she loved the work she did every day; never far from her heart and soul was the hope to be a published author. After years of conducting audits for investment firms in the New York City area Sylvia recently made the decision to answer the call within her to make writing a priority.
Sylvia is the mother of two and lives with her husband in a suburb of New York City.
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Till We Meet Again Page 19
