Page 37 of Finding Romance
Sighing, I pour myself a glass of water and sit down at my counter.
“Out with it,” she insists.
My grandmother is the one person that I never lie to. She’s my rock. And because of that, I decide to spill it. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Mum and Dad. Between that and everything that happened before I got discharged and these dating lessons I’m giving my friend, my head is just…in a weird space,” I rattle on, meshing so many things together in one long string, it feels like I just knitted a scarf that can be undone by pulling on one end of the yarn.
“Well, well, that’s a lot.” She pauses and I know she’s making herself tea. She always has to have a cup of tea when she talks. I can envision her turning on the kettle and placing her tea bag in her favorite mug with sheep on it.
“I suppose,” I reply. I take a sip of water as I listen to her rustling through the box for her tea.
“First, it’s a good thing to think about your parents. You never talk about them. And I get it. Their death was tragic and what you experienced when their boat sank was just awful. I still think you should continue with therapy for it, but I can’t make you now that you’re a grown man.” She pauses and I know she’s pouring the water in the mug because I just heard the kettle beep. “Second, you should also go to therapy to talk more about that incident that led to you leaving the military. That was another big tragedy. You lost your friend that day. That’s a lot of loss, Kasen. Especially when you were so young.” She pauses once more, and this time, she’s most definitely sipping her tea. “Now tell me about this friend.”
I smile as I listen to her footsteps on her wooden floor. I can tell she’s still walking slower after her injury. But the fact that she is up and around makes me feel a little better. There’s a pause and I know she’s reached her chair by the window. The one that overlooks the water. I wonder if it’s raining there today or if the sun is reflecting off the waves.
“Her name is Piper. She just graduated college. She’s Cornelia’s niece and is staying there to help her after her ankle surgery. We’ve hung out a few times. She’s not had much dating experience and I offered to take her on a few practice dates,” I start. She doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “We’ve gone out on two dates and…I think I may have more feelings for her than I thought I did.”
“That’s wonderful news. Just ask her out on a proper date, then,” she encourages.
“We both know that I’m too messed up for a relationship. She deserves better than that,” I say as I swirl the water in my glass.
“Kasen Ian Saddler! That is not true! You are the kindest, most generous, and loving grandson in the world. Any woman would be lucky to call you her boyfriend. And you deserve love, my dear boy. Do not deprive yourself of the love you deserve,” she says and I want to believe her. But I’m not sure I can.
I grunt a “right.”
“I’m serious. And what’s the harm in going to a therapist? You could at least try that. Go once, if it’s so awful, then at least you can say you tried it,” she says. She’s told me this so many times. And she’s not wrong. I’ve been thinking about it lately. When she got sick and injured herself and needed my help, it made me realize how petrified I was of losing her. Besides my friends, she’s all I have left. She spent those nearly twelve weeks encouraging me to go to the little café in town where the Wi-Fi was better and I could get cell reception. She wanted me to talk with my friends, but all I cared about was making sure she was fine. I can’t imagine my life without her and I hate that I’m so far away. I thought several times about moving back to the island, but my work requires me to travel and have internet connections that aren’t possible there and she refuses to leave. We reached an impasse eventually and she told me to, and I quote, “Get your arse back home and live your own damn life. I got it from here.”
“Maybe I will,” I say. She made me go to therapy after my parents died and I had to go for a few months after the incident on the beach during my last military mission. But after getting discharged, I started skipping out on the therapy and eventually just stopped going altogether. It was easier to push all the bad memories into a box in the way back of my brain and store it in some unused closet there, where I never thought about it because thinking about those tragedies makes them too real.
“Good. Alright then, my job is done for today. I’m going to meet Gwen at the pub later. Go call her. You haven’t said much about her, but I can tell she’s special just by the tone of your voice,” she states.
“She is,” I mumble, having a hard time saying it out loud.
“Very well then, I’ll look forward to meeting her someday. Have a good day,” she says.
“Bye,” I reply as I hang up and text Bray before I lose the nerve to ask him this.
Me: Hey, know any good therapists?
Bray: About damn time.
Me: What the hell?
Bray: Randy Philips. Here’s his contact info.
I save the contact info and call, making an appointment for the following week. One time. I’ll try it one time. What’s the worst that can happen? I grimace because I already know the worst things that can happen. And as if the world wants to prove that my entire life isn’t shit, Piper texts me.
Piper: Do you think she could have lost the necklace at the pool? She said something about aquatic aerobics the day before the accident.
I try to remember. Cornelia and Margie both take a class at the pool. It’s possible she lost it there.
Me: It’s possible. Shall we go for a swim?
Piper: I think we should. I mean, I’ll try to swim and you can swim laps around me.
Me: (laughing emoji) I’m free tonight.
Piper: Sounds like we’re working out this evening.
Just the mere idea of spending the evening with her puts me in a good mood. She’s like a ray of sunshine in my otherwise stormy world.
