Page 67 of Snapshot

Every single breath that staves off death keeps me away from you.

Pink lips. Rosy cheeks.

I let you go in this life.

But you’re mine in the next.

I promise.

“Len,” Dex says softly. “Maybe we should stop.”

I look at him. “I’m done. That’s the whole poem.”

“Look,” he says, gesturing to Dottie.

I turn to see her face tear-streaked, the picture pressed tightly against her heart, ignoring my warning to be careful. Her head is hung, and she’s silently sobbing.

“Grandma? Are you okay?”

She inhales and exhales deeply a few times as she nods. Surprisingly, her makeup didn’t even move. She gently dabs her cheeks with the back of her hand. After a deep sniffle, she’s completely recomposed. Dottie Hessler is elegant even in the throes of a meltdown.

“I’m sorry. Just years of emotions bubbling to the surface. That’s what happens when you go gray. Too much bottled up.” She traces her hand over her perfectly curled hair, but there’s not one gray hair on her head. Her hair is dyed a rich black. “I’m okay. I’m just sad I never got to say goodbye to my friend.”

“Grandma, can I get you some water?”

“I’m fine, Dex. Thank you. I think it’s well past my bedtime, though. I’m still on East Coast hours. I think I’ll excuse myself for the evening, but Lennox?”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s a tremendous thing to ask but may I keep this picture?”

I nod eagerly. “Dottie, you can keep whatever you like. I brought it all for you. Do you want me to sort out the pictures? Or do you want?—”

“Then I want it all,” she says with firm resolve. “If I may… I want every single piece, if you’re offering.”

I nod again. “Of course.”

“Grandma, I’ll clean all this up, and we’ll leave it for you. You just get some rest,” Dex instructs.

“Okay, yes,” she breathes out. But she doesn’t replace the cut polaroid. She holds it in her palm as she shuffles around the coffee table to stand in front of me. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you, Lennox. Thank you for these memories, and thank you for being such a good friend to my precious grandson.” Stunning me, she kisses me on the cheek. The smell of her fancy French perfume envelops us both as I hold my cheek, fighting the urge to cry. I’m not even sure why. I think she transferred everything she was feeling when we touched, and now my heart aches miserably.

We sit in silence until Dottie is up the stairs, and I hear a bedroom door gently shut.

“She liked you, I promise. I have no idea what that was. She’s been having breakdowns left and right lately. I think she might be sick. I’m starting to really worry about her,” Dex says.

I turn to face him. “She’s not sick, Dex. Don’t you see it? Your grandmother and Jacob were obviously lovers.”

“What?” He looks torn between disgusted and offended. “She married my grandpa at twenty. Are you suggesting she had an affair?”

“No. I’m saying you don’t have tobewith someone to love them.”

“Len, I’m not saying my grandma had the perfect marriage, but she loved my grandpa a lot. She loved my mother and her family. She was a faithful woman.”

I pat his knee and apologize. “I never meant to question your grandma’s integrity. Forget what I said.”

But I got a glimpse of the truth based on the look in Dottie’s eyes.

There’s love. And then there’slove.

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