âI really wish your grandfather was here for this,â Gram notes from my side, looking at the people gathered around the small, intimate table with a longing look in her eyes. She looks to Peyton, her eyes slightly misting over as she smiles.
Peyton blows her a kiss, placing a hand over her heart. âI really wish he was here, too. He wouldâve been the life of the party.â
Dinner has been niceâand not at all as intimidating as I thought itâd be. When Gram said it was intimate, I didnât imagine it only being immediate family. Weâre sitting under the stars, twinkling lights strung around us at a circular table thatâs low to the ground. Pillows of different shades of white and blue circle the table, making the dinner seem far more casual than the party earlier.
Gram stays quiet for a moment, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Preston is the one to break the silence from my other side. He reaches across my front, his forearm brushing against my breasts, as he takes his grandmotherâs hand. âYou should tell Emma about the night you and Grandpa met.â
Peyton excitedly claps her hands, pushing off where she rests against Jacksonâs chest for a moment. âYes, please do, Gram. You know itâs one of my favorites.â Peytonâs eyes meet mine, a soft smile on her lips. âSomething tells me youâre a romantic, Emma. Youâll just love this story.â
âJust a little bit of one,â I answer, holding up my thumb and index finger and creating the smallest amount of space between them. Iâd like to think of myself as a romantic, but I think a large part of that is because Iâve never really had a steady boyfriend. Iâve never had someone do big gestures for meâor even little onesâand Iâll continue to wait, and hope, for the person who does.
âYou have to tell it, Gram,â Peyton prods.
âIt really is a special story,â Prestonâs mom chimes in.
Gram pulls her shawl closer to her shoulders. Her eyes roam over her family members seated around the table. âAre you sure all of you want to hear it again?â
Everyone nods as I lean in close to her and nudge her with my shoulder. âIâd love to hear it if youâre willing to share.â
Gram sighs, looking to the sky for a moment before looking back at me.
âI was eighteen and was visiting the Hamptons with my family for the summer. Iâd never had a boyfriendâand I didnât want one either, despite my parentsâ wishes to marry me off.â
Everyone is quiet as she looks off into the distance, as if sheâs picturing that day in her head. âThere was a bonfire on the beach one night. Everyone who was in for the summer attended. It was a big deal, and my sister had to drag me to it.â
âYou didnât want to go?â I ask. I only met her yesterday, but Gram seems to love a party. Iâm a little surprised she wouldnât want to go to one.
Gram swats at the air. âOf course, I didnât want to go, darling. I wanted to stay home and read a book.â
âBut you went, and tell her what happened next,â Peyton demands, leaning forward even more.
Gram raises an eyebrow at her granddaughter. âAm I telling this story, or are you?â
My teeth rake against my bottom lip as I try to hide my smile. I like her sass.
âSorry, Gram,â Peyton apologizes, leaning back and letting Jackson wrap his arms around her once again. âI just love love, and I absolutely adore this story.â
âThen let me tell it, child,â Gram remarks, winking at Peyton to soften her words.
I sigh, loving the banter between this family. I never knew what it was like to have big family dinners or events. We didnât have family Christmas, weddings, funerals, or any of it. Holidays were spent with just Aunt V and me. On some occasions, she had to work, so Iâd spend Christmas watching Hallmark movies or tryingâand failingâto make Christmas cookies.
âI went to the party so my sister would stop pestering me about it. I was sitting right next to the pier, completely minding my own businessâ¦still reading my book, of course.â
I laugh. âYouâre an icon for going to the party and still bringing the book.â
âIt was a mystery novel, and I had to know if my theories were correct. You can imagine how annoyed I was when Joseph walked right up to me and asked if I wanted to dance.â
âWhat did you say?â I ask, fully invested in the story.
âThis is the best part,â Preston responds, leaning close to speak right into my ear. I donât know why he feels the need to do it. His comment can be heard by everyone; itâs not like itâs a secret.
âI ignored him, of course,â Gram responds with a careless shrug. âMy book was more important, and I didnât even think he was talking to me. But then he had the audacity to snatch it from my lap when I didnât answer him.â
I gasp. âNo, he didnât.â
She nods. âOh, he sure did. I ripped my novel from his hands and smacked him right atop the head with it.â
âAnd he didnât run?â I ask, trying to imagine a young Gram completely taking out a potential suitor with a book.
She lets out an annoyed sigh. âNo. He was persistent. Iâll give him that.â
âGrandpa used to swear the moment she hit him with that book, he fell in love with her,â Preston remarks.
I turn to look at him for a moment, loving the way he speaks about his grandparents. Iâve learned more and more about him throughout the day, and Iâm scared to admit that thereâs nothing Iâve discovered that I donât like.
He tips his chin up, gesturing for me to keep listening to Gram. I follow his direction, looking at her once again and waiting for her to keep telling the story.
She stays quiet for a moment, a serene smile on her face before she speaks up again. âPreston is right. He used to say thatâalthough I donât know how much I believed him. Either way, I hit him upside the head with that book, and it didnât deter him for a second. He asked me to dance again, and I told him there was no music.â
âVery bold of him to ask you to dance if there wasnât any music,â I note, taking a drink of some fruity cocktail thatâs one of the best drinks Iâve ever had. Iâm on my second one, and Iâm trying not to drink them too quickly so I donât end up tipsy like last nightâand have to deal with a hangover tomorrow. But itâs hard to not want to drink it all at once with how great it tastes.
âIf Joseph was anything, it was bold. He didnât care that there wasnât any music. He said weâd make our own, and then he held his hand out to me.â
Iâm quiet and shift my position, eager to hear what happens next. Luckily, she doesnât make me wait long.
âI donât know what compelled me to take it, but I did. He pulled me up onto that pier, and we danced.â
âWithout any music?â I ask, trying to imagine a young Gram being swept off her feet by a handsome stranger. Itâs incredibly romantic.
âWithout any music,â she responds. âAnd I didnât admit it to myself for a very long time, but I fell in love with him on that pier. The way he hummed my favorite song as we danced, even though he had no way of knowing it was my favorite. The way he asked about my book, sat on the pier with me, our feet hanging over the edge, and listened for twenty minutes as I told him the entire plot of the novel. It wasâ¦â She pauses, looking up at the stars and closing her eyes for a moment. You can feel the love she had for her husband radiating off herâthe love she still holds for him, even though heâs left this world.
âRomantic?â I finish for her, my voice full of awe. Iâve slowly watched my friends fall in love, and itâs something I craveâsomething I want to experience. Looking at Gram, I wonder what itâs like to have such fond memories of someone decades later and still hold so much love for him.
Gram opens her misty eyes and looks right at me. âYes,â she manages to get out. She reaches over and grabs my hand. Her cold fingers wrap around mine, holding tightly as she gives them a firm squeeze. âIt was romantic. He was a romantic. And it was the easiest decision I ever made to say yes to his proposal a month later.â
My eyes widen. âA month?â I look around the table to see if anyone is as shocked as me about how quick their romance was, but their faces tell me all I need to know. Theyâve heard this story before and arenât shocked at all about how quickly their love story unfolded.
Gram smiles, squeezing my hand again. âIf weâre being honest, it was more like three weeks, but I always thought saying a month sounded better. When you know, you know. There isnât a one-size-fits-all time limit for love.â She looks at Preston over my shoulder for a moment. âRight, Preston?â she prods, raising a thin eyebrow.
Preston coughs. I choke on my own spit. The two of us create a symphony of different noises at Gramâs words.
âLord have mercy,â Gram barks, rubbing my back.
Preston and I pull it together under the scrutinizing stares of his family.
âSorry to ruin the story,â I comment, taking a drink of my water. My throat burns from coughing, but the ice water helps to soothe it.
Gram swats at the air. âItâs fine. Iâve told it a million times.â
âThank you for telling it to me. Itâs beautiful. The two of you seemed really lucky to meet and share a life together.â
This gets Gram to smile so big her entire face lights up. âWe were the luckiest. Iâd give anything to dance on the pier with him again.â
No one speaks, letting her words hang in the air around us. My eyes roam the table, looking at the elegant flower arrangements expertly placed along the table. Lit candlesticks also line the table, the gold sticking out against the white tablecloth.
An idea pops into my head. In one quick motion, Iâm pushing off the pillow on the ground and leaning over the table. One by one, I begin to blow out the candles.
âWhat are you doing?â Prestonâs mom asks. All I do is briefly look up and give her an apologetic smile. I donât care what she thinks of my idea; all I care about at the moment is Gram.
Once Iâve made my way around the table and blown out every single candle, I spin to look at Gram with a hesitant smile. We donât have a pier, but we have a table, which will have to do. I hold my hand out, waiting for her to take it. I do a deep bow, trying to make the moment as dramatic as possible. âDance with me?â