“What happened?” I stopped and squatted next to the older man. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just wanted to get a closer look at that picture over there.” He nodded toward a black-and-white photograph hanging on the wall by the door.
“You’ve got to be more careful, Gramps.”
“I know.” He took the hand I offered and pulled himself to a seated position. “I ever tell you I used to work out here?”
“No.” I shook my head as I helped my grandfather to his feet. “When was that?”
“Too long ago to remember. I was there when they took that photo though. Right around the time I married your grandmother. Wanted to see if I could find myself in it. Those were better times.”
A mixture of hopelessness and resignation laced through my grandfather’s voice. Char was right. Gramps needed a new cause, something to get him excited about the time he still had ahead of him. Right now he seemed so caught up in the past.
I reached up and pulled the picture from the wall. The sun had taken its toll on the faded black-and-white photo.
“Here you go. Can you find yourself?”
Gramps studied the photo for a moment, his finger slowly moving over the nameless faces who peered up from long ago. “Here I am.”
He pointed to a smiling man who stood tall and proud in the back row.
“That’s you?” I squinted at the man who bore little resemblance to my grandfather.
“Hey, I used to be a real catch. How else do you think I got the attention of the most beautiful woman in the world?” He glanced up, his watery eyes making me think he was living more in the past than the present. “I’m talking about your grandmother, you know.”
“I figured.” I clamped a hand to my grandfather’s shoulder. Gramps was the kind of man who needed a purpose. No wonder he’d been giving staff at the nursing home a hard time. The poor man was probably bored out of his mind. “I’ve got an idea. How about helping me with this project?”
“What kind of help do you need? I don’t know anything about penguins.” Gramps handed the photo back.
“Maybe not, but you used to be pretty good with your hands. Didn’t you build the ranch house by yourself?”
“That was a long time ago, son.” Gramps hung his head.
I didn’t like the slump of his shoulders or the defeat in his tone. “You still have all of your tools?”
Gramps shrugged. “You’d have to ask your sister about that. For all I know she sold all my stuff when she made me move into that first home.”
My stomach twisted. Gramps had worked construction for over fifty years. His tools were his life. Would Char really get rid of the one thing that might make our grandfather feel competent in his later years? “I’ll ask her about it. If they’re gone, I’ll get you new ones.”
“Don’t bother. She did what she had to do at the time. Probably wouldn’t have any use for them anymore anyway.”
I cast a glance at Zina, who appeared to be studying the tips of her cowboy boots with renewed interest. “Well, I still need a hand. You in?”
Gramps lifted his shoulders in a resigned shrug. “Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“I wanna help, too.” Dolly skipped across the office. “What can I do, Uncle Alex?”
“Hmm.” I tapped a finger against my lips. “Can you be in charge of decorating?”
“For the wedding?” Her eyes shone.
Oh hell, I better put a damper on that idea before Dolly jumped to conclusions that she’d be solely responsible for decorating the entire wedding venue. “I was thinking the penguin habitat. They’ll probably be missing home, so if you could draw some pictures of snow and stuff, it would make them more comfortable.”
“But snow is all white.” Her lower lip threatened to jut out. “How can I draw snow?”
Zina stepped in. “Maybe you could cut some snowflakes out of paper.”
“I don’t know how. Mama doesn’t let me use the scissors anymore.”
