Chapter 6
SIX
“I brought you something,” Nan said from the chair in the corner. She waved a finger at a box across the room. “Your mom carried it in for me. Do you mind bringing it over?” Faith picked up the box and took it over to Nan, setting it down with a thud in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Open it up.”
Faith pulled back the flaps of cardboard that were folded in on themselves to stay shut, and inside, she saw a massive pile of photos.
“Close your eyes,” Nan said with a smile, and Faith wondered what she had in mind, but she complied. “Now, reach in and grab one.”
With her eyes shut, Faith fumbled her way inside the box and lightly moved her fingers around until they came to rest on the smooth surface of a photo. She could tell by the feel of it that it was glossy, so it must not be too old. She pulled it out.
“Open your eyes.”
Faith looked down at the photo, and she sat there in silence for quite a while as she took in the memory of the moment that had been captured there. Nan was quiet too. Clearly, she had a reason for doing this, and she was waiting for Faith to process it.
“It’s me,” Faith said, unable to get her tangled thoughts to come out in a coherent sentence, “…and Casey. We were here. Well, at the old cottage.” They were painting seashells to make into jewelry.
The photo was slightly aged, but through the fading color, she could make out that they both had had too much sun—their cheeks bright red, their hair golden blond, their eyes tired from a day on the beach.
Faith was on the floor, one knee up, her shell in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.
It was a typical childhood scene. But what struck her most was that Casey was sitting right next to her, leaning on her shoulder with her chin to see what she was painting.
They’d been so close. She could see the love between them.
A pang of sadness shot through her. Casey hadn’t leaned on her shoulder like that in a long time.
Life had come between them, and now, she could never imagine her sister leaning on her shoulder that way.
She wanted to be close with Casey again.
She wished things could be as simple as they were when they were kids.
“Pull out another one,” Nan said.
Faith dug around for another photo and pulled it out.
When she turned it around in her hand, she smiled.
It was a photo of a girl sitting cross-legged, an open book in her hands, completely obscuring her face.
The only reason she knew it was her was because she could make out the title of the book.
It was one of her favorite poetry books by Robert Frost.
“I know what poem I was reading,” she said through her smile.
“Which one?”
“It was called ‘Come In’ and it was my favorite. I read it so much that the cover fell off the book, and then I just read it without the cover.”
Nan nodded as if she remembered.
“My other favorite was ‘The Gift Outright’.”
“I remember that one,” Nan said. “He wrote it in Key West. I only remember that because you told me about a thousand times. You were obsessed with Key West.”
“I was,” she laughed at the memory of it. “I wanted to go there more than anywhere in the world. I remember thinking how it was the place of poets, of writers. I loved reading so much that it romanticized Key West in my young mind.”
“You never went, did you?”
“No.” Thinking about it now, Faith realized that she had bestowed her obsession with reading on to her students, feeding their love for books and encouraging their passion.
It only crossed her mind just now that she’d forgotten what had made her enthusiastic about reading.
How long had it been since she’d read something just for herself?
…Since she’d gotten completely lost in a book like she had in her childhood?
She wanted to feel that excitement again for herself.
“Maybe one day,” she said. She dropped the photo back in and took in all of the different photos that were in the box. There were so many.
“Good memories?” Nan asked with a smile.
Faith nodded and reached in again without being prompted. This time, her fingers caught a thick square of paper. She pulled it out and turned it over in her hand. It was a photo of her grandfather, John. On the back, in penciled script, it read, “Sophia and John, 1945.”
“I was twenty,” her nan said with a smile and a shift in her seat. “That’s your grandpa with me.”
Nan leaned in closely as Faith held the photo nearer to get a better look.
Nan had a white pencil skirt with a white fitted shirt and black belt.
She was wearing black open-toed heels, and her dark hair was in pinned-back waves.
She looked gorgeous. Standing beside Nan was Faith’s grandfather who looked familiar to her and like a stranger at the same time.
She’d seen countless photos of him over the years—so many that she felt like she knew him—but he was just a frozen image to her, not the real-life warm, kind man Nan had often described.
Faith reached in and found another photo.
This one was of Nan and her grandfather grinning together in the chair of a Ferris wheel as their chair sat at the bottom of the platform either before or after the ride.
Faith noted her grandfather’s arm around Nan, the way his fingers were resting on her shoulder, the tilt of her head toward him and her smile.
Who was this man whom her Nan had loved so much?
What was he like? When Faith was just beginning to talk, she couldn’t say the word “grandmother.” She could only say “Nan,” so it had stuck.
This man in the photo had never had the opportunity to know his own grandchildren.
She didn’t have a name for him. He was always just her “grandfather” or “John.” Until now, she’d never thought about him really.
But now, seeing him with Nan made her wonder about him.
“These are great pictures, Nan,” Faith said, her mind going back to that time long ago when Nan had been healthy and happy.
Faith looked over at her, and wished she’d made more of an effort to see her.
Faith felt guilty because her nan had always been there for her and helped her through difficult times, but Faith had never really talked to Nan about her past, about being without her grandfather.
What were those nights like for so many years without her grandfather by Nan’s side?
How strong her grandmother must be because never once growing up had she seen anything other than happiness in Nan’s eyes.
Had her grandmother been lonely? Heartbroken? If she had, she’d never let it show.
Faith looked back down at the man in the photo, wishing she had known him.
She’d spent her whole life with only women.
Her mother had done a wonderful job raising her, and her grandmother was one of her favorite people in the entire world.
Even Casey had given her many fond memories of childhood.
Faith had wanted for nothing. But deep down inside her, somewhere where she’d tucked it away, she wished to have had a grandfather and father like her friends had.
When she looked at Nan in those photos, the idea of having her own family slinked its way into her consciousness, especially now after spending time with Isabella—seeing the family bond through the eyes of her little niece.
“May I keep these?” she asked.
“Of course. They’re for you.”
“Thank you,” she said. She didn’t want to think about the other photos of her and her family that were probably in the box.
When the memories of their childhood took hold in her mind, she almost couldn’t bear the fact that she’d stayed away so much.
She also didn’t want to think about the reason Nan was giving them all away now.
It was all so heavy that Faith couldn’t let it enter her mind.
This was supposed to be fun. And she was nearly sure that Nan felt the same way or she wouldn’t have planned it.
It was Nan’s birthday soon! That was cause for celebration, not sadness.
Nan obviously felt the same way, and changed the subject. “So, how was sailing yesterday? You all were out all day. I assume it was enjoyable.”
“It was fantastic. In fact, Jake is so thoughtful and friendly. I’m still amazed that he invited us—complete strangers—to go sailing with him. That was very nice of him, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.”
“I wonder why he did that?” The question had been playing on her mind.
“You should ask him.”
Faith thought about what he’d said at the surf shop, how he’d asked the whole family because he didn’t think she’d go on her own.
What she really wanted to ask was why he wanted her in particular to go sailing?
What did he find so special about her? Especially when he’d turned right around and asked Casey to go fishing.
“I wouldn’t ask him, Nan.”
“Why not?” Nan was grinning at Faith, her eyes playful, and Faith felt the tingle of heat in her face. Could Nan see something between her and Jake?
“It would be rude to ask him such a question,” she said.
“What question?” she heard from behind her and her heart jumped into her throat. Faith hadn’t known him long, but she’d known him long enough to recognize his voice. She turned to see her mom standing next to Jake in the open door. He was in his work clothes, so he must have been outside working.
“Oh, Jake, I’m glad you’re here,” Nan said. “Faith wants to ask you something and I have an idea for some built-ins I’d love to run by you. I think you may like it.”
Why was Nan putting her in this position? She didn’t want to ask Jake anything. She’d told her that! Nan was all smiles, her eyes darting from Faith to Jake and back, but didn’t she realize that she was putting Faith in an embarrassing situation?