“Then how come he doesn’t act like it?” I frowned.
My grandfather shook his head sadly, taking a moment to consider his words carefully.
“He cares very much, but like most men, he doesn’t know how to express that adequately. This is why I taught your brother how to play music. I wanted him to have some way to channel the pain he couldn’t describe. Your father only has that gift of expression through your mother, and you.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.
“Your father has allowed himself to be expressive and gentle with you and your mother in a way he never allowed himself with Calum. Perhaps because of your gentler natures. They’ve been too much alike from the beginning, but that doesn’t mean your dad doesn’t love your brother, or even that he loves him less than he loves you. He just doesn’t know how to talk to him, like he doesn’t know how to talk to himself.”
I leaned back against the booth. It made so much more sense now. “How do you see everything so clearly, Gramps?”
“I’ve lived a long time and I’ve seen a lot of pain. I’ve seen what that pain can do to you, if you’re not careful, if you don’t let people in. Everyone needs someone, and I’m not just talking romantic love. Family, friends, a sense of community. People need people.”
Gramps sighed again, heavily this time…as if the weariness had settled into his bones. He looked years older—and worn out. His pallor had taken on an ashen colour.
“Are you okay, Gramps? Should I take you home?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. And no—not before dessert,” he added with a wink, although his complexion was still gray.
He lifted his hand, drawing the attention of our waitress. She knew exactly what he wanted and brought over his dessert without him having to ask.
After Gramps’s slice of warm apple pie, I drove him back to his house—a beautiful, blue two-storey a few blocks from Mahone Bay’s downtown core. The wood frame residence was built in the traditional Lunenburg house style, with clapboard cladding, a gable roof, and bump dormers. It was built in 1883, and Gramps was proud of how they’d maintained it over the years. It still had the original cook stove.
As we walked up the stone walkway, Gramps seemed a little unsteady on his feet. Concerned, I searched for a way to get him inside and make sure he was truly okay without appearing like that’s what I was doing. Gramps was a very proud, very independent individual. He liked to look out for his family, but he didn’t like it so much when his family attempted to do the same for him.
“Did you want to hear the new song we’ve been working on before I go?” I said, knowing it was the one thing that wouldn’t result in a door in my face. Gramps’s ashen face lit up like a kid on Christmas Day.
“Oh, I’d like that very much!” Gramps replied. “It’s been a while since I got to hear you play.” I took his arm and let him lead up the porch steps to the house, waiting patiently while his trembling hand got the right key in the lock. I hung my coat up on the rack by the door, while Gramps shuffled into the kitchen to put on tea.
I followed, my eyes going to the familiar paintings and décor that had decorated my grandparents’ house for decades before I was born. There were collectables from all over the world—from Gramps’s days in the military, and the things they collected on their many trips over the years, later in life as empty nesters.
This house had always felt like a secondary home for me. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was little, looked after by my grandparents while my parents both worked. I helped Gramps fix our teas, then we carried the steaming cups to the front room.
In the front room just off the foyer, there was a grand piano. It was where Nan used to teach her piano lessons every afternoon and it’s where I had first learned to play.
Gramps settled into his armchair, facing the piano, the cup of tea he’d fixed for himself in hand.
Settling on the bench, I glanced over my shoulder with a timid smile. “All right. Be gentle, but not too gentle—if it’s terrible, let me know.”
“I’d never let a grandchild of mine put out a terrible song,” Gramps chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. On that note, I faced forward and started playing.
This was a softer melody—a gentler song than the rest of the album. I’d been inspired by Dare to write it. I wasn’t sure how it fit in with the overall sound I was trying to achieve with my music, but I loved it more for it.
Once I’d finished playing, I turned around to catch Gramps wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. A proud smile rested on his tired lips. “Watching and hearing you play…it brings me back. Thank you. What a lovely song.”
“Thank you, Gramps. Dare thinks it’s got single potential…” I trailed off, glancing at the piano. Of course, the final song would have a few more instruments in it: electric guitar, bass, and even drums. Plus Dare’s background vocals. Maybe even a violin back track…
“I think he’s on to something.” Gramps nodded. He took a sip of his tea, then set the cup and saucer down on the table beside him.
I glanced up at him. “Sometimes, I get so impatient…I just want to be out there, doing it already…you know? But Dad’s always said that I need a good education.”
“Your father’s right, a background education in music won’t hurt you. If anything, it’ll only help advance you. The times are changing, Connor. You no longer need big labels to make and put out music. A lot of people can do it from their own homes, if they want.”
“Exactly! So, why am I so worried about a diploma?”
“It’s not just about the diploma, Connor. Your father put a lot of money into ensuring you’d have the education you wanted, one that would gift you with a career and a livelihood. Stick it out not only for yourself, but for him too. It will make him feel like the years of sacrifice and hard work were for something. You only have a couple of months to go, songbird. Make the most of it.”
I almost wilted. Having Gramps side with Dad made me feel small, but he was right. Dad had put a lot of money into my education, and it wasn’t fair to bail out now—especially when I was so close. Not that I was even really considering it, I was just antsy to begin the rest of my life.
