“He’s going to hate me,” she mutters, talking more to herself than to me.
“Beck. Look at me,” I say firmly, before she spirals further.
She slowly turns her head and meets my eyes.
“Take a breath.” I inhale through my nose, then let it out slowly. After a beat, she follows.
When her shoulders relax, I ask, “Do you like what you are wearing?”
“What?”
“When you put that on this morning, did you like it?”
She hesitates before agreeing, “Yeah, I love this shirt. It’s cozy.”
“That’s all that matters. I think you’re beautiful. And my grandfather will love you. He doesn’t care about your jeans.”
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently, threading my fingers through hers.
She bites her lip and rocks in the passenger seat for a moment longer. Nodding once, she says, “Yeah, I got stuck in my head.” Staring straight ahead through the windshield, she exhales. “It’s just a house. A big, expensive house, but still just ahouse. No one’s going to be standing inside judging me because I’m wearing jeans.”
I squeeze her hand. I know that this has nothing to do with this house or my grandfather, but does she?
“Okay,” she says, more to herself than to me, as she reaches for the door handle. “Let’s go in so I can meet your grandfather.”
We get out, and she waits while I grab our bags. The chilly breeze grounds us as we make our way to the front door. She reaches for my hand again, and I bring the back of it to my lips, placing a gentle kiss there as we climb the steps. The front door opens, and my grandfather greets us with a warm, welcoming smile.
“Welcome. Welcome,” he says, stepping back and gesturing us inside. I almost laugh when I see he’s wearing a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt, similar to Beck’s.
“Granddad, this is my girlfriend, Beck,” I say, smiling. “Beck, please meet my grandfather, William.”
She extends her hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for inviting me. Your home is lovely,” she says, glancing around the vast entry.
Granddad’s face lights up. “It’s wonderful to meet you.” Before I can say anything further, he steps forward and gives her a warm hug. She stiffens briefly, then grins as she relaxes into his embrace. As I watch the tension ease from her body, I smile too. This was a good idea.
Seeing them together, I know that being here away from Emerley with my grandfather is exactly what we both needed.
By the time dinner rolls around, Beck is completely at ease and enchanted by my grandfather. She laughs easily at his jokes andlistens attentively to his stories. The obvious joy in his eyes tells me he’s thrilled to have such a captivated audience.
“One time when Ryan was around six, he woke up early and wanted to go fishing off the dock, but we didn’t have any worms. I told him we could slip into town and get them when the store opened, but he couldn’t wait. He disappeared into the cottage and came back outside with a piece of deli meat from the fridge. He put it on his hook as if it were the most natural thing in the world and tossed his line into the water. Wouldn’t you know it, he caught a fish in less than ten minutes.”
He leans back in his chair, smiling at the memory.
“Walked around the rest of the day with his chest puffed up with pride. You would think he’d invented fishing.”
“Sounds like he was a problem solver even back then.” She winks at me.
I huff out a quick laugh. “Or just an impatient kid who really wanted to catch a fish.”
Granddad chuckles. “Maybe a bit of both.”
“This was amazing,” Beck gushes, picking up the linen napkin from her lap and bringing it to the side of her mouth. “I can’t believe that you made it yourself. Beef Wellington, the garlic mashed potatoes, this dessert—all of it. You’re an excellent cook.”
“I’ve always enjoyed cooking. I don’t do it as much as I would like anymore.” He takes a drink of tea and stares wistfully out the window facing the water. “There’s not much sense in cooking a large meal when I’m the only one here to enjoy it.”
The room falls quiet for a moment, the weight of his admission settling over the table. I think about him here alone in this house with only memories of my grandmother to keep him company. He has help that comes in regularly, but it’s not the same as having family. I asked him if he’d ever consider movingto Emerley, closer to me, but he says he’s not ready yet. Maybe someday.
