Her smile is so soft and appreciative when I shift my focus to her face. Her hand goes to my cheek. “Gram, you never got to meet this guy, but you would have liked him.”
“Go ahead and tell her what she would have liked,” I say.
Kira laughs, and it wraps around my soul and squeezes tight. Warmth moves through my veins.
“He’s always fishing for compliments, Gram,” she says.
“Fine, I’ll tell her all about the woman you’ve become. Gram, Kira is smart, like super smart, rocket science smart.” Kira grins and rolls her eyes. I wave my hand over my head. “She’s up here, and I try really hard to follow along, but I’m a bit slow at times.” Kira nudges me with her shoulder.
“Stop it. You’re far from slow. It’s just not your field of study. I’m sure you excel at everything you do.”
I give her a wink. “I try.” Her cheeks turn red, and I continue with, “She’s funny as hell.” Kira’s eyes go wide. “I mean heck,” I correct quickly. Yeah, using the word Hell in a graveyard, not my brightest moment. “She has an ironic sense of humor, and she’s nice to everyone. I think there’s a big part of you with her in here,” I say and put my hand over her heart.
Tears pour down her face, and I wipe them away and press my lips to hers for a soft kiss.
“I bet Gram really liked hearing that,” she whispers between kisses. “Thank you, Nate.”
We both go quiet again, and seconds turn to minutes. I should be at work, returning my lawyer’s call, but no way am I about to leave Kira. Time passes slowly, and I break the quiet. “Kira, why didn’t your mother have a service?”
“When mom left here, she wasn’t on good terms with Gram. I only recently found that out. Mom was involved with an older man, and Gram did everything to come between them. She only had my mom’s best interests at heart, though. In the end, the guy broke her heart, and Mom left town for a new life, one that had nothing to do with the fishing industry.” I nod. “Mom didn’t talk about her parents much. After Gram died, she flew back, had her buried with Grandad, and that was it. No service. Nothing.”
“That’s not enough for closure,” I say.
“You’re right.”
“How are you feeling?” I tug on her hat, adjust it around her ears.
“Tired and sad.”
Wind from the ocean washes over us, and the wrought iron gate creaks. “Want to stay here longer, or do you want to go for a walk?”
She lifts her head and looks off into the distance. “Don’t you have to be to work?”
I pull my phone from my pocket, shoot a message to my receptionist, and say, “Nope. My day is free.”
“Nate—”
I hold up my hand and stop her protest. “Come on. I know exactly what you need.”
“You do?” I nod. “I’m not sure how, when I don’t even know what I need right now.”
I pull her up with me. I brush the debris from our knees and put my arm around her to guide her from the graveyard. “Let’s take a walk, and then we’re heading into Halifax.”
“What’s in Halifax?”
“Ah…everything,” I say, and we both laugh.
We walk along the streets, tourists long gone from the town now that November is upon us. The only ones left are the people who live here, and a few of the shop owners. Many of the touristy shops close up for the winter.
We walk along King Street and take in a string of old homes now converted to shops and restaurants, painted vibrant shades of green, orange, and pink. We turn the corner and keep walking, heading toward Iron Works Distillery, which is housed in a heritage building that used to be an old blacksmith shop that once produced ironworks for the shipbuilding industry.
“Did you know they filmed the Book of Negros here?” She points to a wharf on the ocean. “They did a