Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
HALLIE
Walking into the retirement home, I’m greeted with a blast of warm air. I quickly unzip my coat and pull it off, draping it over my arm. Pops isn’t in the lobby like usual, so I take the elevator up to his floor. I find him in the lounge.
Pops smiles when he sees me. “There’s my Junebug.”
I shake my head at the nickname, but a smile still stretches my lips. “Hi, Pops.”
He adjusts his glasses, then scrutinizes me with his assessing stare. “You seem sad.”
Taking a seat across from him, I try to school my expression. “I’m not sad. I’ve been helping Carole a bit more lately. Maybe I just look tired.”
His lips flatten into an unimpressed line. “You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, but don’t play me for a fool, young lady.”
I sigh, giving in. “Amanda has been calling me.”
“Ah.” Understanding washes over his features. “I take it you haven’t answered?”
My grandfather has his own complicated relationship with his daughter.
Despite all she’s done to break it, I don’t think Pops could ever sever their connection, no matter how much it hurts to hang on to.
Still, he has never judged me for how I choose to deal with her, just like I never hold his choices against him.
Family ties are prone to tangle, and they’re hard to remove.
I chew on my lip. “No. I told myself I wouldn’t after last time. I’m done. But I just…”
Pops waits patiently as I collect my scattered thoughts.
“I guess I’m just grieving what could have been.”
I’ve come to terms with who my mother is, which is why I’ve finally made the decision to go fully no-contact.
I officially blocked her number last night after I sent her a long message reminding her why we don’t talk.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t still mourn the version of us that exists in my imagination.
The version of us that’s happy and unburdened by everything that tries to weigh us down.
He gives me a sad smile. “I am, too.”
I don’t say anything else, and neither does he. There isn’t anything to say. But simply sitting here with Pops, who understands Amanda like I do, makes me feel better.
Soon, some of the residents on Pops’s floor start heading downstairs for the day’s activity. My grandfather plays a lot of bingo, and he wins a lot, too. Today’s activity, I quickly learn, is painting.
Pops smooth-talks the activities director into letting me join in on the fun. She has an extra easel and canvas, so she agrees on the condition I help her clean up afterward. I readily accept.
As I begin setting brush to canvas, the tension in my shoulders slowly lessens.
It doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s a start.
Pops definitely knew what he was doing by convincing me to stay.
Art has always been therapeutic for me. He was the one to give me that tool, back when I was a quiet little girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Do you have anything else on your mind?” Pops asks gently. “Or was it only your mother?”
I thought I could get away without crying, but my eyes fill with tears at his question. I take a deep, fortifying breath. “I have to tell you something, and you’re probably going to be disappointed in me when you hear it.”
Pops places a hand over mine. “I may not always agree with your actions, Hallie, but I will never be disappointed in you . You’ve made me the proudest a grandpa possibly could be, I reckon.”
His words cut me somewhere deep, and I feel even worse for what I’m about to reveal. I should have never lied. Never asked Gabe to help me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but…my father reached out a couple months ago. I decided to meet him. When we were at Dockside, there was this whole thing about me being engaged to Gabe. It was a rumour, of course, but I…let my father believe it. I’ve been pretending Gabe is my fiancé.”
Pops sets his paintbrush down, his attention fully on me. “Why did you do that?” His tone holds no judgment, only simple curiosity.
I shrug, looking down at my hands. There are tiny flecks of blue paint on my skin. “Because I’m twenty-eight years old and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. But the prospect of being engaged to Gabe made me feel like I had at least something figured out.”
“You wanted to impress him,” he says.
My cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Looking back, it was incredibly stupid. But things have changed and now I’m stuck, and the only way out is to tell the truth.”
“What was your original plan?” he asks.
I grimace. “I was going to fake a breakup with Gabe and pretend we decided we’d be better off as friends. Except now I can’t do that because…”
“Because?”
“Because I accidentally fell in love with him. Again.”
Gabe has always had my heart, but, like I knew he would, this version of him won me over all the same.
My grandfather’s laugh is hearty, filling the room. “Junebug, that just means you did it right.”
I cover my face with my hands, no doubt getting paint in my hair. “I didn’t stand a chance.”
“I always thought that boy took a special liking to you.”
I look up at Pops again. “He told me he loved me when we were eighteen. I didn’t take it well. That’s why I left for school earlier than planned. Then moving to his guesthouse, then into the main house, it was impossible to stop my old feelings from surfacing again.”
“So are you together, then?” Pops asks. Again, without any judgment, even though he really should be judging me for keeping all of this to myself for so long.
“We are, but…” I frown. “I asked him to keep us a secret from his family. It’s hurting him—I know it is—but I can’t seem to let go of what’s holding me back. I want to, but…I’m scared.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“That his family is going to think I’m not good enough for him. That I’ll do something to mess it up and he’ll hate me. That I’ll hurt him beyond repair. The list goes on.”
Pops is quiet for a moment, thinking over his words. “You just said that keeping your relationship from his family is hurting him. Do you think that, perhaps, your present reality should be more important than your fears regarding hypothetical future situations that may not even come true?”
The world seems to tilt on its axis. When he puts it like that…I know Pops is right.
“I get so caught up in my head sometimes, I forget about what’s right in front of me,” I admit.
He pats my hand. “Nothing in life is perfect, Hallie. If you are in this with Gabe, truly in this, there are going to be moments where you disagree. Where you stumble. Yes, that might hurt a little. That’s the nature of loving someone.
But if you prioritize the care you have for one another, I believe there is nothing that can’t be overcome. ”
His words put me at ease. Pops has always been a steady presence in my life, and he has never once lied to me. If he thinks I can do this, then…I can. I will .
“How do we even go about telling people?” I ask. “Just thinking about it makes my stomach tie itself into knots.”
“Our minds are powerful, and this secret has been built up in your brain to feel bigger than it is. That’s bound to be scary.”
I chew on my lower lip. “It is.”
I’ve always been like this. My worries start small, but before long, they’ve snowballed into something of epic proportions. It takes me twice as long to talk myself down as it did to work myself up.
“Why don’t you start by telling one person?” Pops suggests. “I’m sure you’ll find it less intimidating after that.”
I swallow. “I guess I’ll try. Gabe deserves at least that much.”
He nods. “That’s all you can do.”
Feeling significantly lighter, I spend the rest of the time letting my paintbrush do the talking.
After a while, I start to draw attention, and I spend an hour fielding questions from octogenarians.
Pops snickers beside me every time one of his fellow residents starts to fawn over my painting, which depicts a simple vase of flowers the activities director set out.
After I help clean up the paints and brushes, I walk Pops back to his apartment. My canvas hangs from my hand, the paint still tacky.
“Hey,” I say, when we’re just outside his door, “how come you never told me about Gabe coming to visit you?” I’ve mentioned it before, but I never asked why.
Pops side-eyes me. “I wasn’t aware I had to tell you everything.”
I huff a laugh. “You don’t. I just figured it’s something you would’ve mentioned.”
He turns to look at me fully. “If I had, would it have made you feel less guilty for not being here?”
No. It would have made me feel worse. It did , when Gabe dropped the news. I think that’s a sign I need to stop underestimating my grandfather.
“Fair point.”
“You have a big heart,” he says. “Fill it with all the good things life has to offer.”
As I make my way back to Kip Island, back home, I take my grandfather’s words with me. Gabe is a good thing—the best thing—in my life, and I want everyone to know it.