I cleared my throat, continuing, holding her gaze. “But the most essential thing he ever taught me was the importance of family…of forgiveness. It might have taken me a while to learn this lesson, but it’s one I’ll never forget.”
The Warf was packed. Conversations drifted over one another, setting a somber backdrop of remembrance.
I leaned against the bar, fingers around a whiskey I’d yet to sip from. The ice clinked against the glass, joining the harmony of bar sounds. For a rare moment, I was alone in the crowd—and I took advantage of that, my eyes surveying the room.
Connor was talking to Dare, a small smile tempering her lips. Evan stood on Dare’s left, with Tai beside him. Given the searching glances I received from Tai, a discussion about work was in my imminent future.
I turned my head, my gaze coming to rest on my parents. They were talking to a couple that had been close friends of Gramps and Nan for sixty years; Ted and Margaret Watson. Our grandparents would bring us over to visit the Watsons regularly when we were kids.
As I grew older and opted to spend more time with my friends and music, my visits with the Watsons dissipated. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in the same room as them, probably not since before I turned fourteen.
Time had painted more wrinkles on their faces and stripped the colour from their hair, but it hadn’t altered the way Ted Watson doted on his wife. Margaret was perched on her walker’s seat, and Ted had a protective withered hand on her shoulder. She was nodding at something my mom said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
Seeing them again had a wave of nostalgia tugging at my battered heart. My jaw clenched with tension and grief and I looked away, lifting the glass. The edge of the glass stilled against my lips as Harper strolled through the door.
She saw me, her eyes connecting with mine for a suspended moment. Everything in me stalled—my heart, my lungs, even my brain froze and rebooted clumsily.
During the eulogy, I’d noticed her in front of the doorway. I hadn’t been able to pull my gaze away from her. A few curls now escaped the bun she’d twisted her hair into, framing her face. Her cheeks warmed beneath my appraisal as she uncertainly made her way over to me.
Setting the glass on the bar, I moved toward her, meeting her near the entrance. There was so much to say, but all I could do was stare at her, a small smile teasing the corner of my lips up. “Hey.” I drawled, breathing in her sweet perfume.
“Hi,” she smiled tentatively, tucking one of those curls behind her ear. “The funeral was beautiful, Cal. Your gramps would have loved it.”
“Thank you,” I swallowed hard, inclining my head and stepping a little closer to her. I couldn’t help myself; I was seeking refuge in her presence. “And thanks for coming, Gramps always adored you.”
She inclined her head, letting out a soft chuckle before her brows pulled together with sorrow. “I really am sorry for your loss.” She said, reaching out so that her fingers brushed tentatively against the back of my hand.
I looked down at the contact, unable to prevent myself from flipping my hand and clasping hers, my thumb interlocking with hers. I needed to touch her; to assure myself she was really here.
Surprise widened her eyes and tinted her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away from the contact. The sound of walker wheels against the hardwood floor had us both turning to meet the curious gazes of the Watsons.
“Harper, is that you, dear?” Margaret squinted, pausing with her hands shakenly griping her walker.
She pulled her hand away, bringing it to her purse strap. “Yes. Hello Margaret, it’s nice to see you up and about.”
“It’s nice to be up and about!” Margaret smiled. “Thank you for the book—I’m enjoying that Gideon fellow.” Her eyes twinkled at Harper before moving to me. “We won’t keep you long. We just wanted to say hello before we head home.” Margaret’s cloudy, wise eyes fell on me.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Watson.”
“Calum, we haven’t seen you in well over a decade. But your grandfather kept us well informed of your endeavours over the years.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’ve done well for yourself. Frank was so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I managed, fighting the impulse to glance back at Harper. Instead, I kept my attention politely on two of my late grandfather’s closest friends. “It’s good to see you both.”
“I would say the same to you, but you look like a colouring book.” Margaret teased. Genuine laughter spilled from Harper’s lips, and I couldn’t help the smile that sound brought to mine. “And just how do you know Miss Morrison?” Margaret added, her eyes twinkling as they moved from me to Harper.
I glanced at Harper again, warmth spreading through my heart. “We go way back.”
Margaret’s snowy eyebrow rose, but she nodded wisely, accepting my vague answer. “It’s quite sad, and yet remarkable, how funerals bring people back together. We’ve seen it happen many times over.”
“Too many times. Most of our friends are dead now, at least the ones our age. We’ve been to a lot of funerals.” Ted added, sadly shaking his head. “Best to love the people in your life hard while you still have them. Anyway, we need to head back. Margaret is getting tired, and it’s almost time for your afternoon medications, dear.”
Margaret nodded, smiling up at her husband before she fixed her attention back to us. “It was a lovely service, Calum. We hope to see you again before you go back to globe-trotting.” She reached out to take ahold of my hand and gave it a surprisingly strong squeeze before releasing me.
After saying their goodbyes, the Watsons left the bar, leaving Harper and me alone in a crowded room.
“I wasn’t aware the Watsons knew your grandfather,” Harper said quietly, her brow furrowing.
“Yeah, they live next door to him. How do you know them?”
