25. Eliza
ELIZA
I absentmindedly moved the puzzle pieces around while sitting across from Gran at her wooden table. I had a couple hours between my classes at the yoga studio and my shift at Lake Ridge and had come to visit my grandma.
A cool breeze swept in through the open window, bringing in the smells of spring—flowers, grass, and rain—with it. The rhythmic sound of Gran’s knitting needles would have lulled me into a sense of comfort had it not been for the tightness in my chest.
I set a piece into the puzzle, the ridges easily fitting in place. My eyes stayed planted on the pieces in front of me as I gathered my thoughts. I swallowed the lump in my throat and sat up, the chair creaking as I shifted my weight. “Gran, can I ask you something?”
“When have you ever prefaced a question with a question?” Her tone was teasing, but when I didn’t say anything right away, she set her knitting needles and yarn on the wooden table, giving me her full attention. “What’s on your mind, my Firecracker?”
“I don’t want to upset you,” I admitted, nervous to bring up my parents and grandfather, but my conversation with Cooper at dinner last week hadn’t left my mind. I also wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to get the words out—or if they’d make any sense.
“It’s impossible for you to upset me,” she said gently. While my grandma was bold, confident, and took no shit, she had a soft side, too. “Go on.”
Gran and I had always been open with one another. It was one of the things I loved most about our relationship. Nothing had ever been off-limits. But as I got older, I was more aware of how my questions might impact her. I didn’t want to bring up painful memories.
“I just don’t want you to take it the wrong—”
“Eliza.” My grandma gave me a look.
“Okay,” I sighed. “How—how did you move forward after losing grandpa? And then Mom and Dad? It…I mean, it kind of seems…”
“Impossible?” she finished.
I looked up at her, expecting to see tears in her eyes or a frown. Instead, I saw a gentle smile and her eyes locked on me.
“Yeah, impossible,” I said quietly.
“I’m not going to lie, dear, it sure felt that way sometimes.
In fact, sometimes, it still does. Just a little less.
But we’re all stronger than we realize. When Russell died, I had your father to take care of.
And when the accident took your mom and dad, I had you and Cooper relying on me.
I wasn’t about to let you down. I still grieved, but…
having that purpose, that love, helped me move forward a little bit more each day. ”
Gran ran her hand over the table’s surface—the same table my grandfather had made her.
“I wish more than anything that your parents were here. That they were the ones who got to see you and Cooper grow up. But that’s why I’m not going to take any of these moments for granted.
Why despite everything I still feel so incredibly lucky.
You are why I was able to do the impossible, Eliza.
And you did the impossible, too, my dear. Don’t disregard your strength.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice breaking with emotion I didn’t realize I’d been holding back. “I’m scared of falling for someone and losing them.”
“It’s okay to be scared.” Gran reached over the table to wrap her hand around mine. “It’s okay to acknowledge all those feelings—as long as you don’t let them hold you back. As long as, despite everything, you keep moving forward. You keep living.”
I nodded but couldn’t find the words. Emotion clogged my throat.
Gran let go of my hand and picked her knitting needles back up, resuming her latest project—a set of colorful plant pot covers—as a comfortable, although slightly heavy, silence fell over us.
“Is there someone in particular you’re scared of falling for?” she asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I parted my lips and quickly shook my head, diverting my attention back to the most recent puzzle Gran had on the table. “No, of course not. Just…more so in general.”
She hummed, and I didn’t have to look up to feel her eyes on me. And I didn’t have to look deep in my mind to acknowledge the three-letter name that had surfaced almost immediately at her question.