Chapter 64 Alice
“You’re my most valuable campaign asset,” Georgiana said to Alice as they went knocking on doors one September afternoon.
Autumn had always been her favorite season, before the affair. Afterward, though, the foliage made her feel guilty, like it
was tinged with the scarlet of her sin. But this year she found herself looking forward to autumn again. Like Georgiana’s
campaign slogan said, it was time to move forward.
“I’m just one person,” Alice said. “You get millions of views on those videos of yours.” The scale was hard to comprehend.
Alice had made a cameo in one of the videos.
She had been reluctant for privacy concerns, but she’d been seeing all the free things Georgiana kept getting for her videos
and she wanted in. The government already had everyone’s data anyway. Alice figured she might as well put her face on the
internet and get some freebies out of it.
It had worked. The video with Alice was a hit. They’d filmed it on the pickleball court. Not only had she gotten three brand-new
pastel pickleball dresses donated by the Pink Pony gift shop, but thousands, maybe millions of people online were calling
her “America’s Grandmother.” She loved it, how regal it felt, how formal.
When Georgiana was born, Alice had wanted to go by Grandmother Alice.
David, on the other hand, chose Pop. Alice thought it sounded ridiculous, like the Rice Krispies character.
But he had the last laugh because Georgiana quickly learned Pop, whereas Grandmother Alice proved trickier.
“Nonni!” Georgiana would call out from her crib, drool spilling, dimpled legs dancing.
“Nonni!” And who could resist that? Certainly not Alice, and the name had stuck.
But it was gratifying in a way she hadn’t expected to have so many people calling her America’s Grandmother. It was vain to
get caught up in the opinion of strangers, but still. Alice was thrilled by it all, especially how it was strengthening her
bond with her granddaughters.
“You’re helping me win over a key demographic,” Georgiana said.
“And which demographic might that be?” Alice said. “The old folks?”
“The esteemed elders of the island,” Gigi corrected.
“Look who’s gotten all politically correct,” Alice teased.
They reached the next stop on their route. A gingerbread A-frame tucked back off the road, shrouded in maples that were just
beginning to turn. This was where Liam lived.
“I’ll let you do this one by yourself,” Georgiana said.
Before Alice could protest, Georgiana was speed-walking away.
It was ridiculous how nervous Alice felt. She was a grown woman (an overgrown woman by many standards). She should have no
problem walking up to his red front door and having a simple conversation. But she inched down the driveway and stood bashfully
on the front steps, wondering if she should ring the bell or walk away.
The door opened before she had made her decision.
Liam was standing there in a flannel shirt and a cautious smile.
“Alice,” Liam said. “I saw you walking up.”
It was a nice trait about him, that he was the type of person to open the door before you even rang, but Alice wished he might
have given her another minute to prepare.
Over the past weeks, they had carried on being cordial but nothing more.
She missed his presence terribly. Josephine May was not nearly as good of a pickleball partner.
They were second to last in the fall league.
And it wasn’t just that. There was no one else who made her laugh, made her think, even made her want to twirl again like Liam did.
The way she’d longed to dance with him to Frank Sinatra at Eloise’s engagement party. .. It had been excruciating.
“Liam,” Alice greeted. “I’m campaigning for Georgiana.”
“So I’ve seen,” Liam said. “You’re famous now, Alice Klein.”
He was the only one who still called her that. She had been Alice Klein for so long. But something about having her youthful
identity stirred up... She didn’t hate it.
“Too famous for me these days, I presume,” he said. He had a smile on his face, but the twinkle was gone from his eye.
It pulled at Alice’s heart. “Liam,” she said. “I owe you an apology.”
Liam waved a gracious hand, as if tossing it aside. “It’s okay, Alice. We wanted different things. I don’t fault you for not
feeling the way I did.”
Alice bristled at the past tense . She hoped it wasn’t too late.
“That’s not what I wanted to apologize for,” she said. “I wanted to apologize for still holding what happened in 1982 against
you. It was my choice as much as yours. But I never really let it go.”
“It was a big thing to let go,” Liam said kindly. “Again, I don’t fault you.”
“But that’s not all.” Alice felt a rush similar to the one she’d felt when she crashed Clyde’s proposal. It was freeing to
speak her mind, to let it all out there without worrying about the gossip or the consequences. Perhaps Georgiana had helped
her with that this summer. “I’m sorry because I haven’t been truthful about how I feel. I was so happy with David, truly.”
Liam nodded bravely. He looked resigned to hear a rejection in yet another form. But Alice felt stronger and clearer now that
Eloise knew about the affair. The secret was no longer searing. She had confessed to her daughter, to her late husband, to
God. Rather than trying to edit past chapters, it was time to turn the page and start afresh.
“And your friendship over the years has meant so much. But as we’ve spent more time together, my feelings have changed.
They have deepened.” She took a breath, filling her lungs from the bottom up.
“I am seventy-seven years old,” Alice said, feeling the age of it, and the youth of it too.
“And I believe I am falling back in love with you, Liam Townsend.”
Liam stood there, blank in the face. But the shock didn’t last long. He lit up with the glow of a teenage boy. Or perhaps
the glow of a nearly eighty-year-old man, because who was to say that young people had a claim to love?
“Alice,” Liam said, taking her hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “I know for you it has not always been me. That’s okay.
That has been your path. But for me, it has always been you. Always.”
“You were with Camille for quite a while.” Alice couldn’t help but bring it up.
“And she left me because I couldn’t commit,” Liam said.
In spite of herself, Alice felt a jab of sympathy for Camille. She really wasn’t that terrible; she just wasn’t right for
Liam. And certainly not right for mayor.
“You showed me so early in life how love could feel,” Liam went on. “And I refused to ever settle for less.”
“I just hope you’re not building me up too much. I’m really quite ordinary.”
“Says America’s Grandmother. You have a light about you, Alice. Everyone can see it. And even if a time comes when no one
can see it, I still will.”
“So long as your eyes work,” Alice joked. “Let’s keep eating as many carrots as we can.”
Liam broke into a grin that didn’t feel like yesterday or tomorrow; it just felt like right now.
“Would you like to come inside for some now?” he said. “I was just about to have a snack.”
“I suppose Georgiana can manage without me for the last few houses,” Alice said, and she followed him inside.