Page 36 of Phishing for Love
Grandma simply listens while I blurt out my feelings: How my skin heats up in Aaron’s presence, the fluttering that grips my stomach when I arrive at work each morning. And yet, how he also infuriates me so that I’m thinking of strangling him half the time.
“I don’t know if I’m being fair to Nathan staying with him when I’m feeling this way,” I conclude. “I don’t know what to do.”
Grandma reaches across the table and tenderly pats my hand. “Let me tell you about my watch.”
I know my grandmother favors a meandering path to her ultimate destination, so I squash the tiny flicker of impatience and spare the briefest of glances at the delicate rose gold watch on her thin wrist. “Gramps gave it to you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did. For my thirtieth birthday.” She smiles fondly. “I never take it off, except to shower and sleep.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is.” She extends her arm. “Look closely. What do you see?”
I see a rose gold mesh bracelet, a round case, stone set shoulders. “It’s just a watch, Grandma. I don’t—” I stop, frowning.
She smiles.
The hands on her watch have been removed and engraved on the face is only one word:Now.
“My watch has no working parts,” she tells me softly. “It’s a constant reminder to live in the now.”
I shake my head in wonder. “I never noticed.”
“When your grandfather was alive, I was always ruled by where I had to be rather than where I wanted to be. Don’t waste even one minute of your life. Make sure you’re with the right guy for the right reasons.”
I bite my lip. “I love Nathan.”
“I know you do. But remember there are all different types of love.”
I realize everything’s not perfect between Nathan and me. Our relationship has cracks, but I’ve always believed they’re hairline cracks, easy to repair over time. What if they’re fault lines, though?
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
Trying to sort out the complicated knot of emotions in my chest is so incredibly hard.
I long for the innocent simplicity of my grandmother’s watch. I can’t help but feel as though mine is a ticking time bomb.
Grandma favors an early bedtime, so Mom picks her up just before eight. The rest of the evening looms in front of me. I flick on the TV, but Grandma’s words keep tumbling through my head, drowning out the voices on the screen. I have to talk to Nathan. I text him asking if I can see him tonight. He takes almost fifteen minutes to reply.
Nathan:I thought you were having dinner with your grandmother.
Tess:She just left. Can I come round?
Nathan:It’s late.
Tess:I need to see you.
Nathan:Can’t it wait til tomorrow?
Tess:Not really.
Nathan:I’m super tired.
Tess:Please. I think we should talk.
Nathan:Fine. I’ll come to you.
When I open the door to Nathan twenty minutes later, he’s still in his work clothes.
