Page 37 of Lovers at Seaside
Parker had loved the script she’d been given, and it seemed like that had started a flurry of activity, including a barrage of emails and phone calls, texts, and scheduling of future meetings. When her calls ran late, Grayson used that time to fit in a run. But he didn’t crave those runs the way he had before Parker came into his life. Now he craved their intimate mornings and shared evenings, when they walked on the beach with Christmas and watched the sunset, met friends for dinner, or talked into the wee hours, sharing their hopes and dreams. Lately Grayson found himself imagining a future with Parker. He had no trouble picturing the life they’d share or even the family they’d raise, as long as he didn’t try to figure out the logistics. He got hung up there every time.
He pushed those thoughts away now, as sunshine and a cool bay breeze streamed through the open French doors, filling the living room with the promise of a beautiful Saturday. Grayson reached for Parker’s hand and sat down beside her at the table, where she’d spread out the contents of Bert’s safe-deposit box. He took in the numerous unopened envelopes, yellowing with age and dating back to the early seventies. He picked up a photograph of a man, Bert, he assumed, and a much younger Parker, getting his first glimpse of the girl she’d been and the man who had been hereverything. Her hair was longer and all one length, not layered or styled, like she wore it now. She was smiling, but her eyes told of her worries—wariness, fatigue, hope, and beneath it all was the confidence she must have been honing her whole life. Bert was soft around the middle, his eyes the same gray-blue as Abe’s, though filled with welcoming kindness. No wonder Parker trusted him. If Grayson had met this man, he had no doubt he’d have trusted him, too.
“That was taken the day he took me to meet the first modeling agent. Bert asked her to take it so we would always remember the day. I told him he could keep it. I think I knew even then that modeling wasn’t my thing.”
She picked up another picture and smiled as she ran her fingers over her image, then handed it to him. “This was the first picture Bert ever took of me, at the park.”
He felt like he was looking at a different girl than the one in the previous picture. She was laughing, and she must have just turned around, because her hair was blurry, swinging across her face and chest. Sunlight reflected in her eyes, accentuating the moment with a youthful, carefree exuberance. He didn’t recognize that carefree look, and he wondered if she’d been acting even then, or if in that moment she’d felt that way. He hoped for the latter, and even more, he hoped one day to see that carefree side of her firsthand.
“That’s the picture he gave to the modeling agent. It’s one of my favorites.” She leaned closer. “He got all excited and told me to turn around and look at the balloons. I remember looking so hard, wanting to see the balloons. Not because they were balloons, but because his excitement was contagious. So I’ve got my back to him, and I’m scanning the park and squinting up at the sky, trying to find them, but of course there was nothing there. He knew just how to trick me into getting the shot he wanted.” She laughed softly. “I loved that about him. Anyway, suddenly he yellsPuppies!and, well, you know how I am with Christmas. I love puppies, and I spun around to see the nonexistent puppies. That’s why I look so excited. Bert was good, wasn’t he?”
Grayson’s chest warmed with emotions for the man who’d had her figured out and had used that knowledge to help her. He hugged Parker, loving them both a little more, and kissed her temple.
“He sounds wonderful. Are you okay? Are you sure you still want to go see Abe this morning?” They’d also planned to stop by his father’s hardware store afterward. He was excited to introduce Parker to his father, and he wanted to check on him. He’d sounded tired the last few times they’d spoken.
“Mm-hm. I’m just deciding if I should bring the letters and the pictures, or if it would upset Abe to see the letters again.”
She showed him more pictures of her and Bert from recent years, and a picture of Bert and Abe when they were boys. Someone had scribbled their names and ages on the back of the black-and-white photos, along withMom, Dad, and boyson a family photo. She picked up another picture, of Bert and an older man arm in arm. The look of love in their eyes was undeniable.
“This was Bert’s lover, Alan. They were together for forty-five years. Alan passed away two years before Bert and I met, but Bert didn’t tell me about him until months after the day he took that first picture at the park. He said he knew we needed each other. That he recognized the loneliness in my eyes.” She paused, and he knew she was probably remembering their conversation. “I’m glad they had each other for so long, and I’m glad Bert and I had each other for so long.”
He thought of Abe, whose beliefs about what made a man strong were so off, and thought it would make sense that his ideas of what made a man weak were also misconstrued. “I wonder if Bert being gay had anything to do with Abe’s feelings toward him.”
“I don’t know. I wondered about that, too, but that’s not a battle I want to fight, and I don’t think Bert would want me to, either. He told me stories of what it was like to be a gay man when he was young, and how things had changed over the years. From what he said, Alan hated keeping their relationship a secret. He was eleven years older than Bert and had been dealing with hiding his sexuality that much longer. One day Alan said he was done hiding, and they came out together. Bert said it was the most freeing—and the scariest—thing he’d ever done, but that Alan was his rock.”
She set down the picture. “Bert was my rock, and I hate that I wasn’t there when he needed me most. He did so much for me, and I didn’t—”
Christmas lumbered in from the deck and stood beside them, his big head cocked to the side, as if he wanted to know what had made his mom so upset.
Grayson gathered Parker into his lap and pressed one hand to the back of her head, and when Christmas whimpered, he petted his head.
“He knew, baby,” he reassured her. “He knew how much you loved him, and it sounds like what you gave him was exactly what he needed. You were there to share his life. You loved him, and he loved you back.”
She nodded against his chest. “I know, but…”
Grayson took her face in his hands and wiped her tears.
“But it hurts, and you feel like you let him down. I know. I felt the same way about my mom when we lost her so unexpectedly. But they knew, baby. I’m sure of it.” He kissed her softly. “It’s okay to feel sad and even to feel like you let him down, but know in your heart that you couldn’t have done anything differently. We’re all going to die someday, which is why we live for now and we love the people we care for with all we have so they know it after we’re gone.”
“How do you do that? You always make me feel better.”
“I just tell you the truth. I wish I could make it so you’d never feel this type of pain again, but even Herculean efforts can’t do that. But I can promise you, if we’re not physically in the same place when you’re sad, or lonely, or just need me, one call is all it’ll take, and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“I promise you the same.”
Christmas pushed his head between them, lightening the mood and earning a few extra promises to be there for him, too.
PARKER FELT MUCH better after her brief cry, but she was pretty sure it had more to do with Grayson than the actual release of her tears. She decided to bring Abe the photographs and the letters, because they were rightfully his, and if they upset him, she’d simply take them back home. The normally stoic nurse was a little less rigid today, and flashed a brief, seemingly relieved, smile when they arrived.
“He’s very tired today, but I know he’d like to see you,” she said. “Please keep it brief. He hasn’t had much energy lately.”
“You go ahead,” Grayson said. “I’m going to hit the men’s room, and then I’ll be right in.”
Parker pushed the door to Abe’s room open, feeling the absence of her boyfriend’s bigger-than-life presence beside her. She looked over her shoulder and saw him speaking with the nurse, then stepped into the room. Abe’s eyes were closed, and she wondered if he was asleep, but as she came to his bedside, his eyes opened.
“She returns,” he said quietly, with a hint of his grumpy self. It was just a hint, and it made her smile, because that grumpy self wasAbe.
“Hi, Abe. How are you?” She leaned in and hugged him. His skin was still ashen, and his breathing was even more labored.
