I get lost in the memories a bit, some from when I was really young and not nearly enough from when I was older. I still saw Grandma and Grandpa as a teenager, but the moments aren’t as vivid because I was too caught up in other things to appreciate my grandparents while they were here.
Bobby lets me take my time, and eventually, I come back to him. “She got sick, breast cancer when I was thirteen. It was quick and brutal. Mom shielded me from most of it, but Grandpa didn’t handle it well at all. He’d always been . . . a hard man. Strict, stoic, but I think he really loved Grandma and I think she loved him too. Or at least they loved each other, as far as I could tell as a stupid kid.” I shrug, not sure but also not willing to revisit the past to analyze with an adult’s heart.
“I only know this next part from later. I didn’t know it at all back then, but Grandpa knew she was getting close to the end. She got confused a lot, and the meds made her lose time, I guess. But she called him Hank sometimes. I know that had to hurt. They’d had this whole life and family together, but he didn’t tell Unc. They’d been distant but civil all those years. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, and he’d come by and see Mom and me. I just thought he was my cool uncle, you know?”
I swallow, still not able to believe what my Grandpa had done in his own selfish need. “At the end, in confusion, she cried for Hank. She thought it was a long time ago, thought he was coming home to her and they were going to get married. She didn’t know who Mom was or who I was, had no idea about her whole life, any of it. And Grandpa . . . he didn’t tell Unc. Didn’t even call to tell him that Grandma was sick, much less that she wanted to see him. No, he let her cry every day, thinking Hank had deserted her. Grandpa stayed by her bedside to the end. He didn’t give up, but he didn’t give her what she needed to be at peace either, if that makes sense?”
Tears flow down my cheeks again, pooling on Bobby’s chest, but he doesn’t react, just lets me feel it all, even though it’s not my story. “Unc found out about Grandma dying about a year too late and was understandably furious. Mom thought Grandpa had told him and he hadn’t wanted to come, and it was this whole mess. I remember getting sent to my room and Grandpa and Unc yelling. They fought, two grown men punching each other over a woman who was already dead and buried, and Mom screaming at them to stop. My mom . . . she looks like Grandma, the spitting image of her, and I guess in the moment, with tensions high, they both kinda turned on her, yelling back. I don’t know what they said, but in the end, we didn’t see Unc anymore, Grandpa said awful things about him until he died a year later, and Mom just never mentioned either of them again.”
“And now?” Bobby asks gently.
“Now, I’m not losing another day to the past, to things that have nothing to do with me. I want my cool uncle back before it’s too late and will do whatever it takes to get him.” I’m dancing around it, praying Bobby doesn’t poke and prod too much. Though both intensely personal, sharing Unc’s past is one thing and sharing his present is another.
“Are you going to stay in Great Falls for him?”
I can feel the heavy weight attached to the question and know what he’s really asking, so that’s the question I answer.
“He’s not the only reason I’m staying, Bobby Tannen.”
My words are full of interwoven layers and impact us both. I came to Great Falls for one thing, and I found it. At least I did if today didn’t blow it all to pieces. But I also found something I wasn’t anticipating. And like Mom always taught me, sometimes, the unexpected is what you were really meant to experience, a spontaneous growth spurt of my heart through Bobby’s dark, beautiful, powerful love.
I want to believe, to experience, to enjoy him. Us.
Bobby shifts so he can search my eyes, the same gray eyes like my Grandma’s that must hurt Unc to look at every day. But I’ve only known them when I look in the mirror and have always taken pride in looking like my beautiful grandma and mom.
Bobby seems to find something in their depths that he understands because he tilts my jaw up and kisses me tenderly, slowly sipping at me, moaning as he gives in to me and I melt for him. Not from the sun, but from his intense heat.