by Inda Herwood
Hear what?
That my plan worked.
Oh, jeez.
Your plan did not work.
Our grandparents are out on a date. I think that’s proof enough that I succeeded.
You’re right. You orchestrated it so that your grandfather would be rude at dinner, my nana would put him in his place, and then ask him out on your porch last night. That was all you.
Wait, NANA was the one who asked him out? Way to go, granny. I like a woman who isn’t afraid to step in and take charge.
Do you want to date my nana now? Because if so, I’ll gladly step aside.
Nah, I’m pretty busy with her granddaughter at the moment. I think I’ll stick with her and see how it turns out.
So I’m just a placeholder for you?
Exactly.
Nice. I roll my eyes and throw the phone down, going back to my drawing. But before long, my phone is going off again, this time with a call. Sighing, I pick it up, saying before he can start, “You’re not going to get any work done today if you keep distracting yourself.”
“That sounds like a great plan. I think I’ll do that.”
“Beck, you need to get that essay done.”
He’s silent for a little while, and he’s never silent, making me worry. That’s when I look up to see him standing in his window, his hand in his pocket, the phone pressed to his ear. His sad smile kills me when he says, “I miss you.”
His words send a warm zing through my chest, and I put my pencil down. “How can you miss me when we’re talking and I can see you?”
“I don’t know. I just do.” He looks like a sad puppy dog, begging for someone to pick him up and hold him. It makes my heart hurt. It’s only amplified when he says, “You said earlier that you had something you wanted to talk to me about. What was it?”
I suck in a quick breath of air, coughing on it when it doesn’t make its way back out. I had originally texted him earlier about wanting to talk, but then he called me, and we got lost in a different topic that then led to us talking about our grandparents dating of all things, and I forgot. Until now.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “It’s something that can wait. You need to get back to work.”
I hear him sigh. “I hate to say it, but you’re right. I’ll talk to you later then.”
“Bye, Nota,” I say with a small smile.
“Bye, Kahlo.”
***
I don’t know how it happened. One minute I’m sitting on my window seat, sketching Beckham while he works away in his room, the next it’s three weeks later, and it feels like everything has changed. Maybe that’s because it has.
The biggest change came from Nana. The night she came home from her date with Mr. Lyons, she had the brightest glow about her, like she had been a dying lightbulb before, and someone finally got her a replacement. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, and that’s how I knew things were going to be different. She went out with Beckham’s grandfather every day without fail after that. He’d come by for morning coffee with her on the beach, or to take her away for the afternoon to some fancy restaurant. He, too, seemed changed by Nana’s presence in his life. I didn’t see one scowl from him while they were dating, and he even extended his stay in the Lyons’ home to be close to her. Many dinners and barbecues were spent together as a joint family while the two doted on one another like teenagers in love, their connection plain for all to see. But even still, I couldn’t have anticipated what happened next.
Last night, on their three-week anniversary, he took her to New York City to celebrate. When she got home, smiling from ear to ear, she told us about how they had taken a walk after dinner, and happened to stroll by Tiffany’s. She had told him about how much she loved the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and he made it a surprise for her. But that wasn’t the only surprise he had in store.
She then held out her left hand and showed us the delicate pink diamond sitting on her ring finger. “I’m engaged!” she’d exclaimed, looking like she would have jumped up and down if she could.
I was speechless, my eyes glued to the ring and its foreignness on her hand. Mom and Dad were a little stunned at first like myself, but quickly gave their congratulations. I did as well, but it was through a foggy haze I barely remember.
Now, I’m sitting here on the beach, my back resting against Beckham’s chest while he keeps his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. I haven’t said anything since he found me down here, mute and staring at the ocean.
“I take it you were as shocked as I was,” he says gently into my ear, already knowing what my silence is about without me having to explain it to him.
I just nod.
“I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have warned you.”
My fingers run across the backs of his hands, counting each knuckle with a light tap, finding comfort in its repetition. “I’m glad she’s happy. I just hope they aren’t making a mistake.”
“Love is never a mistake if it’s with the right person.” He leaves a kiss on my shoulder, his warm lips even hotter than my sun-soaked skin.
Speaking of the devil… “Hello, you two,” Nana says joyfully, coming to stand in front of us, her giant sun hat flopping in the breeze. Her eyes soften when she sees me in his arms, then when she asks him, “Beckham, would you mind giving me a moment alone with my granddaughter? I promise I won’t be too long.” She flashes him a genuine smile, her attitude towards him having greatly improved after she learned how I really felt about him, and accepted that his presence was going to become a permanent fixture in our household. It also helped that he showed her just how much he cares for me in return, revealing his kind heart and true personality over these last few weeks to her.
“No problem.” He gives me one last kiss on the shoulder before standing up and wiping the sand off his shorts. Looking down at me, he says, “Meet me at the house tonight before the bonfire?”
Shoot, Leigha’s party. I almost forgot about it. I nod with a smile and tell him, “Sure.”
With a nod of his own, he walks back towards the path leading to our houses, leaving me alone with Nana, who manages to park herself in the sand next to me. Groaning while she tries to get comfortable, she says, “That was a lot easier only ten years ago. Hard to believe how fast things can change.”
Tell me about it.
Looking at my profile, she says, “I know what you’re thinking.”
Placing my chin on my bent knees, I finally look at her. “And what am I thinking, Nana?”
“That this is all happening too fast, that I haven’t thought it through enough.”
Not going to lie. “You’re not far off the mark.”
She lets out a short laugh. “I guess it’s only right for you to doubt my judgement when I did the same to yours. I’m sorry about that, by the way. You picked a fine young man to give your heart to. I was wrong.”
“Thank you,” I say, happy to hear her acceptance of Beck in words. But, “Nana, I love you more than anything. You know that, right?”
“Of course, dear.”
“Then please know that I’m only asking you this because I care about you.” Staring at that beautiful ring again, I question, “Why him? And why so fast?”
It’s her turn to stare out at the ocean like it has all the answers she’s been looking for. Crossing her ankles, she says, “When I was young, I dreamed of meeting a man that lived up to the princes I had read about as a child. Everyone told me that he didn’t exist, that my standards were too high, but I knew he was out there. I just had to wait. And then one day, I met that man, and he gave me the countless years of love, and joy, and the child everyone said I’d never have.” She twists her hands in her lap, voice sorrowful when she continues, “But one day, he was taken away from me, and all that joy and love he had given me went right with him. I never thought I’d experience that feeling again. I thought that I had found my one and only prince, and that I should be lucky that I had had him for as long a
s I did. But somehow, some way, lightning struck twice for me, Blaire. And it’s a blessing I don’t plan to waste.”
Her story brings a tear to my eye, and I let it fall into the sand, picturing her with the man I’ve seen in dozens of family albums, laughing and smiling and holding each other like they never planned to let go. My grandparent’s love was the kind I had always wanted for myself. I can’t imagine the pain of losing it, only to find it again decades later with someone else. It must be a bittersweet feeling.
“Besides,” Nana says, wiping my cheek with her thumb, a grin replacing her heartbroken expression, “I’m eighty years old. I can’t afford to wait around like you can.”
I shake my head, laughing at her lame joke. “Don’t lie. You know you’ll outlive us all.”
“What a sweet notion.” She smiles, giving me a side hug. “But Blaire,” she says, her voice turning thoughtful, “I feel like something other than my impending marriage is bothering you.”
I let my head fall back onto my knees again, my heart lurching for the second time. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read me like a book.”
“It’s pretty simple. I know you best. A grandmother can always tell when something is bothering her grandbaby. So tell me, what’s got you all twisted up in there?”
Needing to let it out anyway, I say, not looking at her, “I still haven’t told Beck the truth about us yet.”
A pause, and then she says, “Why not? I thought you were dying to let him know?”
“It’s just…there hasn’t been the right moment to. We always have such a great time together, and I hate to ruin it. And besides, when is it appropriate to say, ‘Hey, I love you, but I’m just like your crappy ex-girlfriend, and I’ve been living a double life like Hannah freaking Montana behind your back.’?”
“Oh, my sweet girl.” Nana leans her head against mine, keeping her arm wrapped around my shoulder. “Life is messy, and the truth is even messier. But even if things don’t end well, you’ll feel better knowing you told him the truth.”
“I know that, but when do I do it?” I ask, and that’s when I’m suddenly reminded again of the bonfire tonight. Maybe…maybe that could be my opportunity to take him aside afterwards and tell him the truth. And since I’m planning the moment this time, and not just trying to find one, it means I’ll have to go through with it. No more excuses.
“You’ll figure it out,” she says, unaware that I just did. “But in the meantime, can I ask you a question?”
Not able to help it, I say, “You just did.”
“Very funny.” She tweaks me on the nose, making me chuckle. “I was going to ask you if you’d be my maid of honor?”
Holy crap. “Really?”
“Of course. I’m going to need my best girl up there with me for support.”
“But what about Mom?”
“She’s going to officiate. Kind of hard to do both of those things at once.”
Why am I surprised that she’s been engaged for less than a day, and she’s already planning her wedding? Going along with it, I ask, “What kind of a ceremony are we thinking of? Courthouse? Quickie marriage in Vegas?”
She swats my suggestions away, saying, “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t want a proper wedding. I want it on the beach with all of our family present. We can set up a couple of tents in the backyard for the reception. It’ll be beautiful, I can already see it.” She looks up into the sky with a great smile, as if she really can.
“Are you sure it isn’t just the side effects of your heart meds talking, Nan?”
The blissful look turns into a glare faster than you can say the words retirement home. “Shut it, kid. Or else you’re going to be demoted to flower girl.”
I hug her close, laughing into her shoulder. “I love you, too.”
Beckham
“Is that a sweat circle on your back? We’re in air-conditioning, bro. How is that even possible?” Catcher asks me, laughing to himself with his arms crossed, just like his ankles. He’s been standing there, watching me like a criminal under a lamp for the last fifteen minutes. I can’t imagine he doesn’t have something better to do.
“Leave me alone and go help Leigha. I’m sure she has a job or two hundred for you down on the beach,” I tell him, pacing up and down the entryway, waiting for Blaire to show up. I wanted to talk to her before the bonfire, but not with my annoyingly chatty brother around.
“Seriously, what’s got you like this, man?” he asks, switching gears from ballbusting to looking legitimately concerned for me.
“I’m just waiting for Blaire, that’s it.”
“What, are you afraid she isn’t going to show or something?”
“No.”
“Worried that she’ll fall for your much better looking, and far better tempered, little brother? Because if so, that’s understandable.”
For the love of – “Catcher, you’re either going to walk down to the beach on your own, or get there with a limp courtesy of me. Those are your options.” Looking down at my watch again, I count ten minutes left before Leigha’s party officially begins. I was hoping Blaire would have gotten here by now.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll go. But I expect you to tell me the real reason of why you’re PMSing later.” He walks away with a grin after he successfully dodges my kick to his shin.
Two seconds later, a knock at the door has me letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, spinning around and opening it before I can think twice.
Blaire looks up at me with shock written across her face, probably not having expected the door to be opened so fast. Her hair flutters back down around her cheeks from the wind burst, wavy and free of a hair tie. She looks absolutely beautiful in her white T-shirt and long flowy skirt that reaches down past her ankles. When she catches me looking at her for too long, she asks, “Is this too informal, or too dressy, for a bonfire? I texted Leigha to ask, but she must have been busy because –”
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. You look gorgeous in white.” I’m quick to reassure her, taking her hand and helping her inside.
“Thanks. I see you’re wearing my favorite shirt again.” Her smile widens when her hand drifts over the buttons on my hunter green dress shirt, the same one from the dinner party.
“I aim to please.”
“That you do. Now, why did you want me to come early?” she asks, eyes looking my face over for the answer. “Miss me that much?”
“I did, but there was something I wanted to say before everyone got here and I didn’t have the chance.”
Her brows hit her hairline, a touch of worry in the downturn of her lips. “What is it?”
“Beck? Beck, where are you? I need you and Catch to go get the cooler from the garage,” Leigha’s voice reaches us from the back of the house after we hear the French doors shut, her footsteps steadily growing closer.
“Oh no.” I mutter.
“What?”
“We’ve gotta hide.”
She snorts a laugh. “You can’t help your cousin out for two seconds?”
“You think it’s just me and Catch she’ll want to help her? No, no. You’ll get roped into it, too. And trust me, once you do, it won’t just be two seconds. It’ll be carry this, move that, start the bonfire for me, Beck, because I have no idea how to, and Google isn’t helping.”
She chuckles into her hand at my poor impression of Leigha, and I keep it there with my own, making her eyes go wide.
“I’m serious, we need to hide.”
“Where?” she asks around her hand.
Spinning in a circle, looking for exit routes, I spot the coat closet. “In there.” I grab her around the waist and shove us inside, closing the door as quietly as possible. Just as it clicks shut, I hear Leigha’s stomp into the foyer where we just were.
“I know you’re somewhere in this house, Beckham!” she calls out.
Shoved together close eno
ugh that a piece of paper couldn’t slip between us, I hold onto Blaire, feeling her chest rise and fall against my own, invisible in the dark.
Before long, my cousin’s footsteps are taking her away again, but I don’t move.
“I think the coast is clear,” Blaire says, moving my hand away from her mouth to whisper.
“She might have just pretended to walk away so that she could catch us coming out.”
“Wouldn’t she have heard us talking by now if that were the case? That door would have been thrown open the second you said she,” my girlfriend argues quite effectively.
I sigh, admitting, “Okay, so maybe I’d like a moment alone with you without the fear of Leigha the slave driver interrupting us. If it’s got to be in the coat closet, then so be it.”
“You always do pick the most romantic places.”
“This is romantic. It’s small, and warm, and we’re in the dark…”
“And I’m currently wedged between a couple of coats that smell like old man and mothballs. You’re right. It could really give the make out scene in The Notebook a run for its money.”
“You lack imagination,” I tell her, feeling my nose bump against hers.
“Is that what you had wanted to talk to me about?” she asks sarcastically. “My failing qualities?”
“No, I…” Jeez, this is harder than I thought it would be. I feel my heart go from a nice slow beat to machine gun level in an instant at the thought of what I want to tell her. “I –”
Our lips accidentally brush in the dark, my body going on high alert at her closeness. I hear her catch her breath before I’m stealing her mouth with a purposeful kiss this time. “I wanted to tell you…I love you,” I say against her swollen lips after we part, feeling her breath flutter across my cheek.
CHAPTER 19
Beckham
“I love you, Blaire,” I repeat again, but this time, I feel no fear when I say it.
Her gasp gets sucked up by another kiss, one that lasts long enough that when my cousin opens the door in an a-ha! fashion, we’re both breathing hard, our cheeks red and our hair a mess.
