Page 63 of Anchored

Maple’s Journal

(18 months ago)

“I’m just saying, if you start now, you can still have a long and wonderful career in healthcare. Or in law! Whatever you lean toward, though I think healthcare is more your speed. I think the other lawyers might chew you up and spit you out on day one.”

Mom’s voice droned on, oblivious to the fact I hadn’t said anything in the last five minutes. Or maybe she wasn’t oblivious and she just didn’t care. I wasn’t sure which, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“You’re a single woman in a man’s world, Maple. Not that Dexter allayed my fears about being able to provide for you, but you have to admit, being on your own and the only skills you have are talking to dogs…well, it’s just not good. What’s your five-year plan? Do you know?”

I grunted, which seemed to be answer enough for her.

“You don’t. You have no direction and no one to support you through this…phase…of yours.”

This phase she was referring to was meant to encompass my entire life. I’d never gone along with their plans for me willingly. Normally I’d stand firm and simply disengage as much as possible, but she was catching me on a low day. I happened to walk past the old yoga studio yesterday on my way to an in-person work appointment and saw Sabrina through the thick glass window, teaching the class I used to teach. I’d been replaced so easily. Just swapped for a younger, prettier version. The life that I’d planned for myself with teaching yoga and Dexter as my husband was just…gone.

And during the last six months I’d replaced that plan with nothing. I worked, I slept, I got groceries when I remembered, and I rotted. I cocooned myself inside my new condo and yearned for nothing anymore. That fire in my chest, the one that I’d held on to so tightly while fighting off the plans my parents made for me was simply gone.

“I’ll think about it, Mom,” I heard myself say.

“Great. I’ll send you the information on signing up for medical school. I know it’s expensive but your dad and I will help you out. Talk soon, sweetie.”

She hung up, certain I’d follow her plan.

I sat back and spun in my office chair. My condo was nice enough. The air was a little stale, but that was due to the aforementioned rotting. Once I got my feet under me, I’d get out more. Find my spark again. Except it had been six months and I hadn’t yet.

Could Mom and Dad’s plan be what I should have been doing all along?

They didn’t look particularly happy, but they weren’t heartbroken and single and pathetic like me either. They were doing things that made a difference in the world. I was talking to dogs about not peeing on their owners’ shoes.

My laptop pinged with an incoming email. I stopped the spinning of my chair and stared at the email from Mom. With a deep breath that felt like shards of glass in my lungs, I clicked on it.

ChapterTwenty-Four

Holt

For the thousandth time since yesterday when Grandpa called, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Sometimes surprises aren’t good when you’re dealing with eighty-year-old hearts. I’d never be able to let the guilt go if our surprise caused Gracie to have a heart attack on top of her dementia issues. Then I saw Grandpa’s outfit when I picked him up this morning and I got on board with what this was: a very sweet romantic gesture. The kind that’s been in the making for sixty years.

“Do I look okay?” Grandpa asks, standing next to my Jeep with a bouquet of flowers I have no idea where he got. His suit is too big for him now, but I don’t mention it. It’s pressed and clean, making him look like a million bucks.

“You look like half the ladies here at Sunny Shores are going to trample me to get to you.”

“Aghh.” Grandpa bats the compliment away with his free hand. “There’s only been two ladies I’ve ever had eyes for. Your grandma.” He pauses, his eyes looking far off into the distance. When he speaks again, his voice holds a reverence he must have kept inside for sixty long years. “And Gracie Graham.”

I put my hand on his back and gently turn him in the direction of Gracie’s condo. “Well, you’re in luck. You got forty years with Grandma, and you’re about to see Gracie again.”

He has me straighten his tie before he lets me knock on her door. It swings open quickly after and Maple fills the doorway. I love the smile that tilts her lips before her gaze swings to Grandpa. Her eyes go wide and then she’s practically beaming.

“Surprise!” I say dumbly.

“Well, am I getting lei’d or what?” Gracie’s playful voice comes from behind Maple.

A choking noise comes from my throat, but I don’t think Grandpa even caught what she said. Maple shifts to the side and Grandpa’s too busy staring at Gracie to do something mundane like use his ears. The two elderly people stand in the doorway, eyes on each other, bodies not moving. Maple and I look back and forth between them like we’re watching a particularly entertaining pickleball matchup.

“Hank,” Gracie whispers, her eyes filling with tears.

“Gracie Mae,” Grandpa says gruffly. He suddenly remembers his manners and thrusts the flowers forward. Gracie doesn’t drop her gaze from his, but she takes them from him just the same. “I always brought you?—”

“Dogwoods,” Gracie finished for him.

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