A Simple Life: Chapter 27 (Patreon)

The next day is a strange one.  Despite Grandpa’s assurances and pep talks the shock of the news could not be shaken off so quickly.  After breakfast we have an emotional and lingering farewell as I resisted leaving.  I was suddenly keenly aware of the fragility of life and of how precious every minute with a loved one actually was.  Irrational as it was I felt like I might never see him again once I stepped off of this boat.

“Go.”  He says at last with a warm smile.  “I will see you later.”

“I-I could call in sick.  We could…”

“Avery.  Go.”  He says as he pats my cheek in his weathered hand.  “Live.  And cheer up!  I ain’t going anywhere yet.”

“Okay.”  I hug him.  I hug him as if it was our last.  “I love you Grandpa.”

“And I you my Buttercup.”  He hugs me back.  “Now get out of here before you’re late for work!”

I sleepwalk through the first part of my day.  Home.  Shower.  Dress.  Work.  The world was drab.  Food was bland.  Music soulless.  My actions on automatic as my thoughts return again and again and again to things like mortality, cancer, and the loss of the best person who ever lived.  All color and flavor and vibrancy had been drained from the world until…her.

I am alone in the break room at work half heartedly nibbling at my lunch when I check my phone for any messages.  Waiting for me were four texts from my new friend.  The first one simply read “Help!” which made me sit up in my chair as if I might run from the room to rush to the aid of a damsel.  The next two are photos of loveseats sitting in the showroom of some furniture store.  The first one is a real classy looking muted blue with a high back and low wooden arms.  The second was a thick and puffy one with wide cushioned arms in a dazzling design of bold criss-crossing colors.  I could see by the pictures that both items were heavily discounted with the classy one a bit more than the other.  “I can’t choose!  Which would look better?” reads the final text, which I see had been sent just ten minutes ago.

Dropping my sandwich on the table my thumbs tap out my reply as my mouth curls into its first smile of the day.  “Still there?”

A few moments later my heart leaps as a reply comes back.  “Yeah.  Dad’s trying to haggle with the guy.  It is so embarrassing!”  A few seconds later.  “They’re both super comfortable and both a great price.”

“Nice!”

“So Mr. Photographer?  Which one?”

“Photography isn’t interior design!”  I reply with a laughing emoji.

“You know colors and shit.  C’mon, hurry.”

I don’t have to think about it long.  For almost any other person and in any other space I would have suggested the blue one.  But Winona’s suite was already a hodge-podge of design so I felt she might as well lean into the aesthetic.  The bright and brash one fit the bill.  Besides, those thick cushions looked so darn comfy.  My smile grows as the image of Winona and I curled up together on it flashes through my mind.

“The second one.”

“You sure?”

“Trust me.”

“Alright.  It’s on you though if I don’t like it once it’s in there.”

“And if you do like it?”

“Head pats from Mommy.”

I giggle.  Head pats!?  Mommy!?  What a silly woman.  I loved it!  I reply with a rofl emoji.

“So when am I picking you up?”

The party!  Distracted as I had been with Grandpa I’d almost forgotten about it.  After a few quick texts with Kayla I come back.  “Movie’s at 9.  K says people can start showing up anytime after 7:30.”

“Let’s call it 8.  Where’s your place.”

I send her the address.  “Sorta between Old Town and Midtown.”

“Gotcha.”  She replies.  “Gotta go.  Dad is on this poor guy’s last nerve.  LOL”

“LOL!  Okay.”

“Stay awesome Sprout.  See you at 8.”

“Can’t wait!”

I swoon back in the chair.  Taking a big, hearty bite of lunch I munch away as I scroll back and read the exchange over three more times.  The head pat quip makes me giggle again but what really touched me was the fact that she came to me in the first place.  I was flattered she trusted my judgment like she did.  She would likely have that loveseat for years to come and my bit of input helped to decide on it.  For as long as she had it there would be a little touch of me in her home.  I liked that.  The rest of my break I am as light as a feather.  I eat and think back on the weird and wonderful night that she and I had shared and wonder what the night ahead would bring.  The only thing I knew for sure was that with Winona it would be interesting.  GAH!  I felt like I might burst with impatience.  Eight o’clock could not come soon enough.

Although only a brief reprieve before the gravity of my Grandpa’s condition brings me back down again it was a much needed one.  A breath of fresh clean air before returning the gray realm of death and choking cigarette smoke.  When I do come back down I feel guilty.  So guilty.  Guilty at my joy and laughter and guilty about choosing to spend my night with her instead of with Grandpa.  How could I have fun at a time like this?  How selfish was I?  How could I not spend this time with him?  He who gave so much.  How dare I think about myself right now.  I consider, yet again, canceling but I knew Grandpa would not accept it.  The date was going to happen.  A piece of me rejoices at being able to see Winona again, and that happiness loops right back into guilt again.  Fucking cancer.  Oh how I loathed it.

The rest of my day is roller-coaster of romantic excitement and premature mourning.  I was a mess.  I couldn’t live like this.  Despite my misgivings I was looking forward to the party more and more as the hours passed.  It would be a distraction if nothing else.  An hour before Winona was set to arrive though I am in my darkest place yet.  The phone is in my hands, my thumb trembling over the call button so that I could call it all off.  And in this darkest hour, as always, my shining hero swoops in out of nowhere.

The phone rings in my hands.  It was Grandpa.  I hurry to answer.

“Grandpa! Is everything okay?”

“A-Okay Buttercup.”  He says in a cheerful voice.  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“N-No.  No problem.”

“Your date still on?”

“Yeah.  Soon.”  I say.  “But if you want…”

“Atta boy!”  He says.  “Atta boy Avery!  You just be yourself now.  Be your BEST self and you’ll sweep her off her feet.  You are a damn good man Avery and any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“Grandpa!”  I groan, embarrassed at the praise.

“I believe in you Avery.  You’re the best.  Go get her tiger.”

“Grandpaaa!”

“Take it from an old fisherman.  You’re a catch.”

I laugh despite myself.  “Stop!”

“Never.”  He chuckles.  “Hey, the Jackson’s are having a get together tonight.  It’ll mostly be cookin good food, drinkin better wine, and sharin tall stories.  Oughta be fun.”

“Oh.  You’re going?”

“Yeah I’m going.  Why wouldn’t I?”  He says.  “I just wanted to warn you in case you swung by and I was gone.  I know how you worry.”

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause before he says.  “How you doin kiddo?”

“Um…fine.”

“Avery?”

“It’s…It’s tough.  It’s really tough.”

“I know.  It’s still fresh.  Things will get better.”  He says.  “After your date if you need to talk, about anything, come find me.  You know where I’ll be.”

“I’ll be okay.”  I say.  “You have fun at the party.  Don’t worry about me.”

“Hey!  That’s what I was going to say.”  We laugh.  “See you tomorrow?”

“You can count on it Grandpa.”

We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone, a great weight lifted from my shoulders.  Knowing that Grandpa was out there having a good time, knowing that he was still living his life, released me from the chains of guilt.  Which was probably exactly why he called.  I loved that man so much.

I leap from my bed and hurry to get ready.  Every hair in place and smelling like a million bucks I dress in a dapper set of black trousers, white collared shirt, and a snug fitting blue vest.  I consider a jacket but I kinda liked the vest look so I leave it at that.  Looking as good as it was possible to make myself, without makeup at least, I am in the living room pacing back and forth as the clock neared eight.

“I thought you weren’t going.”  Brayden says without looking up from the screen.  He was talking about my brother’s party of course which he had just returned from a bit ago.  Brayden had his faults but thankfully booze was not one of them.  He was a weed guy.  When the liquor really started to flow Brayden usually headed for the exit.  Had he been a drinker our cohabitation would not have lasted nearly so long.  “It’s getting pretty rowdy over there, just so you know.”

“I-I’m not going there.”

“Big date or something?”

“Y-Yeah.”  I say.  “She’ll be here s-soon.”

“Fuck yeah dude!  Good for you.  Wait.  A chick’s coming here?”  He gripes.  “Avie, I’m in my boxers here!”

“She’s just picking me up.  I don’t think she’s c-coming in.”

“She’s picking you up?”  He chuckles as he gets up and heads to his room.  With out closing the door his slips back into the jeans he had worn the party.  “Beta move my man.”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to pick her up!”

“On my b-bike?”

“I dunno.”  He shrugs.  “But trust me, chicks might talk a lot of understanding bullshit but they notice that sort of thing.  You’re down a strike before the first pitch.”  He walks back out and resumes his game.  “So is she hot?”

“Uh…I…I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yes.”  I say.  “She is hot.”

“Hot as Kayla?”  He asks.

“Uh…yeah.”

“Fuck!  This I’ve gotta see.  Kayla is so fiiiine.  I’d tap that shit in a SECOND.  How you ever banged both Lauren and Kayla I will never know.  Way out of your league.  Now this chick?  You got that sweet, shy, innocent act working for ya huh?”

“I-I-I dunno.”  Just then the buzzer buzzes.  “That’s her!”  I say excitedly.

To my surprise Brayden springs from the sofa and makes for the intercom.  “Come on up.”  He says through the mic before pressing the button to allow entry.

“Brayden!”

“What?”  He says.  “I just want to meet her.”

“I-I-If you s-say anything t-t-to…”

“Don’t worry Avie.”  He winks.  “I am an awesome wingman.”

Chapter 28