She makes a dismissive noise. “Are you on a dating app?”
“Not right now.”
“Give yourself time,” she says. “I thought I might’ve met someone once. But it wasn’t to be.”
“You never told me this.”
She gives me a quick smile. “There’s a lot of things I haven’t told you. Stick around and you’ll no doubt hear everything eventually.”
“I’d like that.”
“So would I.”
I cross my legs and get comfortable. This sort of conversation with trust and openness has been missing from my life for a while now. It feels good to be here with Grandma. “What was this person like…the one who was a maybe?”
“Your grandfather worked for an architectural firm and liked wearing suits. He was nothing like this other man.”
“Was he nice to you?”
There’s no answer for a moment. Then she says, “He wasn’t always nice. But he was always kind. I think that’s more important, don’t you?”
“Yeah. You met him while you were working for Nash?”
Grandma just frowns. Guess I shouldn’t have said his name. She still hasn’t recovered from his news.
The man himself is out at his morning meditation or jogging group or whatever. She turns her head toward the larger house next door. There’s a Japanese maple, a graceful birch, and other established trees on the property blocking much of the view of the building. The privacy of the place makes it a smart choice for him.
We can, however, see open windows over there and a van parked in the driveway. Guess it’s the original owners clearing out their things ahead of selling the place.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I loved him,” she says. Nash is obviously on both our minds. “After ten years of working for him and cleaning up his messes, however, I was ready for a nice long break. But if he’s bought a house here then his various friends are bound to visit also.”
“Grandma, is this man you’re talking about one of his friends? Is that why him buying next door freaked you out so badly?”
“What do you young people say? It’s complicated?” She sighs. “Another part of me wants to keep Nash close so I can keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s eating and sleeping properly. Oncewhen I was on vacation, he existed on nothing but carrot cake for a week.”
“I guess it has a vegetable and walnuts in it.”
“So he claimed,” she says. “I’m probably worrying about nothing. He won’t be able to stay away from the bright lights forever. The Bend will bore him eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. He’s been constantly on the move for as long as I’ve known him. It’s the only way he knows how to live.”
I don’t mean to frown. There is unfortunately one on my face.
And Grandma frowns back at me. “You haven’t gotten attached to him, have you? As I’ve said several times before, it wouldn’t be wise.”
“We’re just friends.”
She ponders this for a moment. “He had his guitar out last night.”
“Did he?” I ask in surprise. “I went to sleep early and didn’t hear him.”
“It’d disappeared by the time I got up this morning,” she says. “That’s the first time I’ve seen it since he got here. The first interest he’s shown in music, now that I think about it. He used to constantly walk around wearing headphones. Getting his attention was a nightmare. But there hasn’t been any sight of them so far this trip.”
“Interesting. Maybe he needed a break from music as a whole.”
“You might well be right,” she says. “But if he’s started playing guitar then it wouldn’t surprise me if he starts writing songs again soon. It’s in the boy’s blood. He can’t help himself. Life seems to be just songs waiting to happen for him. Then he’ll want to share those with the world. It’s just how he is.”
