Chapter 34 #2
Before my grandpa died, Gran would go out with the lunch ladies often, but she only goes out occasionally with Nate’s grandma these days.
“It was also clear that I was a hot commodity,” he continues, dropping his hat back on his head before wiping his hands on his jeans. “Ruby and Mildred were eating it up. Here they were with a stud like me—”
“Nice,” I snort.
He grins at me. “Deny it and I’ll prove it.”
My eyes flare, and I shake my head. “I could never.”
“That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk that has me envisioning him putting me over his lap and spanking my ass.
Warmth spreads south at the thought. “Anyway, this other table came up one by one to introduce themselves. Ruby and Mildred had to beat them off with their spoons because they wouldn’t leave us alone. ”
The image has me laughing. That is a very Gran and Mildred thing to do.
“I bet all those little old ladies were salivating over such a handsome stud like you,” I tell him. And despite my laughter, I’m serious. I know exactly how they feel.
“The puddles of drool at their table made me blush,” he confirms.
“Pfft,” I shake my head. “Please! You get all kinds of social media comments that are far worse than any of those women would have said.”
One of his eyebrows lifts. “How would you know?”
Shoot. I probably should have considered my words before they came out of my mouth, but like he owned that he was getting turned on, I’ll own this.
I shrug. “Because maybe I read them.”
“Does that mean you watch my videos?”
Again, I shrug noncommittedly. “Maybe.”
His grin relaxes into a smile, his gaze softening as he studies me. The playfulness hasn’t completely left the air around us, but it’s dimmed, the light of seriousness brightening.
“I’d like it if you do.”
“Noted,” I say, toying with the hem of my dress. “Can I tell you something I like?”
Wyatt nods.
“I really like that you took Gran out for lunch,” I confess, releasing a breath with the words. “And that you’re here a lot when I’m not. It makes it easier to leave.”
His eyes narrow a little. “Would you have gone out this afternoon if I hadn’t been here?”
The smile on my face falters, a frown replacing it as I think about the question. I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Before her fall, probably, but since, it’s harder to leave. Every time I do, I’m reminded of my grandpa dying.”
Wyatt shifts then, turning on his rock to face me, mirroring my position with a leg up on the rock. “What happened?”
I suppose I knew he’d ask once I brought it up, but that doesn’t stop me from taking a deep inhale to ease the ache that’s blossomed in my chest. It’s not a story I tell often, if at all. I have no need to these days since the important people around me already know.
“Gran was out for lunch with the same ladies you probably saw yesterday—heck, probably at the same restaurant you guys were at. I was on a date,” I tell him with a soft laugh that doesn’t hold any humor. “Grandpa was home, which wasn’t unusual. He was always out here working.”
Wyatt reaches out, touching my boot-covered ankle. A sign of support that he hears me.
“We got home at the same time, and found him back here, sitting on a patio chair with a piece from the fountain in his hand.” My head bows as moisture fills my eyes.
The image coming to the forefront of my mind.
I’d laughed when I saw him, living on the high of the afternoon.
I was full of youthful exhilaration for the date I’d been on.
“I thought he’d fallen asleep. Then I realized he didn’t look right. ”
“B, I’m so sorry,” he says, his hand rubbing my calf.
It feels like a lifetime ago, and it feels like yesterday. The pain isn’t the same as it once was. It’s no longer a tidal wave ready to consume and destroy all at once. Now it ebbs and flows like the tides, sometimes high, sometimes low, but always there.
“No part of me was ready to let him go,” I explain, bringing my head up.
Wyatt’s tilts when he sees the tears shining there.
“I wanted so many more memories with him. Wanted him to see so much more of my life. Wanted him there for so many more moments. I always had it in my head that one day he’d walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.
It would have made my dad furious, but that’s what I wanted, you know? ”
Wyatt leans forward, resting his hands on the sides of my knees.
It forces me to sit up a little, but I don’t mind because it feels nice to have him near as the tears silently fall down my cheeks.
With a gentleness that lives within his heart, he rubs up and down my thighs, giving me silent support.
“It’s why I’m so hell bent on spending time with Gran,” I say quietly, and though I’ve said the words out loud a million times, I don’t generally say them in connection with my grandpa.
It has something in my heart coming loose, and a sob, a little more out of control than my tears, breaks free.
“I want all the moments I can get with her. I need them. I don’t want to live with this regret of not having enough time or not making the memories. ”
My voice is barely a whisper, threatening to crack as I admit out loud for the first time, “And I’m so scared, Wyatt, that one day I’m going to come home and find her dead.”
“Oh, B,” he says, bringing his hands to either side of my face, cradling it with care between his giant, callused palms. It has another sob coming from deep in my chest. “That’s really heavy to carry.”
“Every time I leave the house. Every time I come back home. I live in a constant state of worry. It eats at me every single day.” Choked breaths spill out between words.
“Every moment I’m not with her. And I try so hard to live as much as I can, but after she ended up hurt, I couldn’t bear it anymore. ”
One second, I’m sitting on my own rock, and the next, I’m in his lap.
I don’t know if he pulled me there or if I slid into it, but my arms are around him, and one of his arms stays solid around my waist while the other runs up and down my back.
He lets me cry into him, not rushing me or shushing me, allowing me to get years of bottled-up emotions out.
Years of carrying the weight on my shoulders without telling anyone the truth.
When I’ve finally settled down, I realize we’re rocking back and forth as he holds me. As my breathing regulates, and I find it in sync with his, he presses a kiss to the side of my head.
“You don’t need to carry that alone anymore, okay?” he breathes into my hair. “I’ve got you.”
“I know.”
And I do. I’ve known it for months. Maybe since that first night when he was willing to let me go back to my friends without so much as a protest.
After another few minutes of us just sitting there, holding onto one another, he says, “You want to see if the fountain works?”
Easing back enough I can look up at him, I give him a wobbly smile, wiping my eyes. “I would love that.”
He helps me up from his lap and then gathers all the parts. One by one, he gets the skimmer put back together with the pump, filter, and everything else, and closes the lid. The top looks like a rock again, hiding the mechanisms in plain sight.
It takes him all of five minutes to put it together, and then he turns the hose off, the pond full enough to try the waterfall. He joins me next to a post where the on switch is mounted at the back of the waterfall.
My stomach swims with anticipation as I look over the pond. He’s done a beautiful job cleaning everything up around it. Plants that had been overgrown, leaves that had been left behind.
Wyatt has transformed this place back into the oasis it used to be.
“Should we get Ruby?” he asks when he joins me.
I had wondered the same thing as he worked, but ultimately decided no. “Not yet. If it works, we’ll go get her. But I don’t want to get her hopes up.”
“Do the honors,” he says, and slides his hand into mine, our fingers interlacing. “Let’s see if it worked.”
Taking in a deep breath, I squeeze my free hand into a fist because it’s shaking at the thought of the fountain working again.
My grandpa’s fountain. Possibly repaired by the man standing at my side.
One man whom I loved growing up, the other who has wiggled his way into my life, even when I tried to push him away.
I press the switch.
Nothing.
Holding my breath, I’m about to look at Wyatt when I hear something. The sound of water. Gurgling. Bubbles. Air.
Oh my god.
It’s working.
“It’s working,” I breathe out the thought, my eyes widening as water starts to trickle out of the top, into a spillway for the waterfall. “Oh my god, Wyatt.”
“Holy shit,” he laughs, letting out a whoop of victory.
But the second it leaves his lips, there’s another gurgle. One that doesn’t sound as healthy as the last. The fountain sputters a few times, and then nothing. No water. It just stops.
“Fuck,” he groans, his arm dropping to his side as the celebration drains out of him the same way the water drained out of the fountain tube. “I thought I had it.”
My heart sinks. Not for the waterfall, but for him. The dejection in his tone is more than I can take.
“You did,” I say, turning towards him. “Wyatt, that thing hasn’t been turned on in years. You got it this far. Whatever is going on with it, I know you can figure it out.”
When he looks at me, there’s a spark of hope in his eye, like he believes what I just told him. Which he should. I have all the faith in this man.
“Okay,” he nods, then covers my hand at the switch, flipping it off. “You’re right. I can. You are my hope.”
The reverie in which he says it has my heart racing, and goosebumps forming from head to toe.
Friends. Friends, friends, friends.
I have to remember that.