free to tell me whatever is on your mind, but honest to God, I’m confused right now!”
“Yeah, I guess I’m not making any sense.” He scratched his hand through his beard, then stood, collecting their plates and bowls, taking them to the small sink.
She continued to watch him in silence. How many times had she sat at the shelter or even in the field, waiting patiently for an animal to finally trust that she was not going to hurt them? So she remained still, understanding that whatever was on his mind, he had not found the right words yet. Begging, nagging, or pleading wouldn’t do any good and might serve to push the words further away from being spoken.
He finished rinsing the dishes, then turned. “Can we sit on the sofa?”
She nodded, inwardly relieved that he wanted to sit close to her. Sliding out of the booth, she walked the few feet to the small sofa and sat, making room for his much larger body to settle next to hers. She shifted slightly so that she was facing him. Her knees were drawn up, resting on his thigh, and he reclined, placing his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers skimming her shoulder.
“I told you about my grandfather, but I never told you about my grandmother.”
Shocked at his opening, she was instantly interested and focused all her attention directly toward him, shaking her head.
“I never knew my mom’s parents since they died when I was just a baby. But my dad’s parents were really cool. I told you my grandfather worked for IBM and was super smart, but he was a lot of fun. Whenever we visited, he didn’t ask about my grades or how I was doing in school. He asked about my friends. He asked what I liked to do. We’d go out in the backyard and throw a football. My grandmother was the same way. She cared more about if I was happy than constantly grilling me to do better. She loved to bake, and their house always smelled like vanilla. At Christmas, she’d make an applesauce cake.”
At those words, he swallowed deeply, and Samantha leaned in slightly, seeing his memories rip through him.
“That was always what Christmas meant to me,” he said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t remember the expensive presents. The ones my parents dangled in front of me if I did what they wanted. What I remember was my grandmother’s applesauce cake.”
“Oh, Joseph.” Her hands reached out and grasped the one that was lying in his lap, linking fingers with him.
“She died of cancer when I was a senior in high school. Looking back, I can see that was a time when everything changed for me. She was a great balance between my father’s expectations and my mother’s decline into alcohol and neglect. Her death devastated my grandfather, and he slowly pulled into himself, passing away several years later, about the time I joined the Navy.”
Samantha wanted to rush in and offer condolences and platitudes but remained quiet, knowing no words would fully soothe his grief.
“I know, though, without a doubt, they would’ve been proud of me no matter what I did. While my dad was amassing as large a fortune as he could, moving us to a huge house in a gated country club community, my grandparents still lived in the same house for forty years even though my grandfather had done very well at IBM. Their house felt more like a home to me than anything my parents had.”
The shadows began creeping throughout the camper as the sun settled lower in the sky. Frodo’s light snores created a soft background noise, and the quiet from inside the carrier gave evidence that the kittens were sleeping. With her gaze on his profile, she lifted her hand and placed her palm along his jaw, gently rubbing her thumb over his beard. The touch was soft, but he turned his face toward her, his eyes warm as they scanned over her face.
“We never took vacations when I was growing up except to exclusive golf or ski resorts in California. Dad would network with his cronies and Mom would hang at the bar. I finally got a chance to travel with my four years in the Navy. When I got out, going back to California to finish school and work for my dad was not what I wanted, so I roamed. Traveled. Every place I landed, I knew it was temporary. Or