Authors: Renee Matteo
Grant stopped what he was doing and stood up,
walking towards her.
Her heart began to thud and her breath grew short. She prepared herself for him to get down on one knee and go through the motions.
He watched her mind racing, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Babe, you really think I would propose like that? Please, give me some credit!”
Gina exhaled the breath she was holding in.
Grant took the box from her hand and opened it. A small eternity band sat propped up in the center of the box. He picked it up out of the box and put it on her ring finger. “I thought I would keep your finger warm until the time was right.” He held her left hand in his.
“So, this is like a promise ring?” She asked, unable the
hold back the large grin on her face.
“Sure, you can call it that. I wanted to get you the real thing,” he paused, “but I don’t think you’re ready.”
“It’s beautiful Grant. Thank you.” She slowly rubbed
her nose back and forth against his. “Butterfly kisses,” she whispered quietly.
Grant held her tight, his forehead pressed against hers. “Promise me one day you’ll let me make you my wife?”
“I promise.” She smiled.
******
DING DONG. The sound of the doorbell broke her thoughts. Gina wiped the tears that she hadn’t realized were falling from her eyes before quickly putting the box back and packing the container away, all the while clutching the tiny ring in her hand. The front door slowly crept open as footsteps pounded above her.
“Hello!” Adam’s voice rang through the house.
She took in a deep breath calming herself and drying away the tears with the back of her hand. “Hey. I’m in the basement. I’ll be right up,” she shouted. She stood up and slowly walked towards the stairs. She paused; feeling as if leaving the basement would make her come back into the reality of her life. There was something comforting about staying downstairs in the memories that she always found so warm.
“Gina?”
Gina jumped back, startled by the unexpected appearance of the silhouette that appeared in the doorway. “Ah!” Her voice shrieked loudly into the air. Gina brought her hands up to her mouth gasping for air. “Adam! Oh my God, you scared me!” She started to laugh at the events pulling her hands down from her mouth and over her heart.
“Sorry. I rang the bell.” He replied. Adam leaned his head into the basement door as if he was going to see something or someone in there. He looked back to her with concern as she came up the stairs approaching him. “You’ve been crying.” He paused in subtle confusion. “Everything okay?
“I have?” She paused, “I didn’t even realize.” She kissed him hello as she passed by him quickly turning the corner to head upstairs.
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing.” She scrambled through her head trying to find any logical explanation for the tears. “I stubbed my toe while I was down there, must have hurt more than I thought.” She looked down to her feet, snuggled into her slippers as if she was confirming her story. “I’m going to run up and grab my shoes.”
“Okay. What were you doing down there anywhere?” He looked down at his watch, then back into the basement again.
“Packing away some old things.” She shouted as she disappeared up the stairs on her way to her room. As she reached her room she opened her hand unveiling the ring she held tight in it. She felt as if she was holding all of her memories of Grant in the palm of her hand.
Adam took a seat in the living room looking around as he awaited her return. “Where are the shoes, in the attic?” He shouted in the direction of the stairs.
“Coming!” She opened the top drawer of her dresser setting the ring in the corner of the drawer. Slowly sliding the drawer shut, Gina felt as if she was safeguarding a piece of her heart and a piece of Grant all at once. She smiled to herself reeling the comfort that this moment brought her.
“Today, Gina!”
“All set.” She smiled as she came flying down the stairs.
“Where are your shoes?” He asked.
“Oh, I couldn’t find them.” She walked over to the closet across from the front door. She pulled out the black pumps that sat on the bottom and slipped her feet in. “Okay, ready,” she smiled.
“Gina?”
“Huh?”
“What is up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously.”
“Seriously,” she smiled.
Eleven
The sun was beginning to rise in the early hours of the morning giving dusk like light off around him. Grant cracked his window to take in the fresh air. The smell of Kipshaw, the smell of home. He had missed Kipshaw and all the familiar things that were there. Especially his family. He pulled into the drive and parked his black Grand Cherokee in the back of the oval drive close to the guesthouse. He pulled his bag out of the car and headed into the main house. The deepness of comfort consumed his body as it always did when he was on his childhood turf. He walked to the back door of the house and slowly slid it open. The home was quiet and still.
“Since when does this family sleep in?” Grant shouted. He walked though the door and into the family room. “Hello?” Grant kicked off his shoes and dropped his large duffle bag next to the small cream loveseat. He glanced over at the large grandfather clock that sat next to the stairs to his right. 7:15.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee caught his nose. He stretched his arms over his head letting out a grunt as he felt the kinks of his drive work themselves out. He walked through the family room and into the kitchen. He helped himself to a mug out of the cupboard and poured a cup. He walked over to the table, relaxing his feet up on the chair next to him. Grant picked up the already read paper scattered over the table and scanned the local news.
“Good morning.” The sweet sound of the high voice that could only belong to the woman he loved unconditionally rang through the air. He looked over to the stairs to see his mother standing at the top.
“Hey Momma,” Grant shouted as he took a sip of the coffee in front of him. “Where is everyone?”
“Ashley had student council before school and Dad had a meeting. I’ll be right down.”
Grant looked back to the paper in front of him. He flipped through the thin journal catching up on the local news. Nothing too exciting. After all, it was Kipshaw.
“You know I hate when you drive through the night like that,” Momma said as she popped down the stairs and towards the kitchen table. She wore light cuffed jeans with a loose navy cotton t-shirt. She walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee and returned to the table. She kissed him on the top of the head before taking a seat across from him. “What time did you leave?”
“About eleven-thirty.”
“Why didn’t you just leave this morning?”
“I like driving through the night when there is no one on the road. I make better time that way.”
“So why couldn’t you just leave after dinner?”
“I had to help Mike move some stuff.”
She nodded her head and pulled some of the paper towards her. “How long will you be staying?” She asked casually. They both sipped their coffee, relaxed and calm.
“I think till Sunday maybe.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No Momma, next Sunday,” he laughed.
She smirked back at him. “Ashley has a basketball tournament, we have to leave next Saturday morning. You coming?”
“Think she’ll be mad if I miss it?”
“Grant, she’s seventeen, I don’t think she’ll be mad if I miss it.”
“My little sister is seventeen, that’s wild Momma.”
“Yeahh, we’ll my little boy is twenty-six, that’s wild.”
“Yeahh.”
“So, you think you’ll come on Saturday? We should be home early Sunday afternoon.”
“I’ll pass. Maybe I will catch up with the boys while you’re gone.”
“Don’t mess up my house.”
“Have I ever?”
“Do you want a list?”
“Come on Momma give me more credit.”
“Did you forget the party your father and I came home to the weekend we went to the lake house and I got sick?”
“Well, you weren’t supposed to come home until the next day,” he joked.
“Oh I see. The kids who were drinking out of a keg in my kitchen were going to be gone by the time we got back?”
“Exactly. It was just a few high school students spending some extracurricular time together.”
“First of all Grant two hundred kids isn’t a few. Secondly, I don’t recall keg standing and beer pong as an extracurricular activity.”
“This is true.” He laughed, “so I had one little party.
Does that make me untrustworthy?” He teased.
“Yeahh, cause it only happened once Grant.” She winked her left eye and nodded her head. “God, your sense of humor is just like your fathers.”
“How is the old man these days?”
“Your father is fine,” she replied, half annoyed, half amused. “He’ll be home after lunch.”
“And how are you, Momma?” He was leaning back in his chair, looking around the house, staring off at the familiar things that glued the memories of his life.
“I’m good honey,” she smiled. “How about some breakfast?”
“No thanks, I had some snacks a few hours ago.”
“Gas station food?”
“Only the best for your little boy.” He patted his belly
with contention.
“Grant, I hate when you do that.” She stood up to make her way towards the kitchen. Cooking for her children was one of the things she enjoyed doing the most.
“Sit Momma. I’ll eat something later.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Ever since Grant could remember, his mom was his
best friend. They did everything together while he was growing up. There was nothing he couldn’t, or didn’t tell her.
“So, how is Gina?” her face flushed quickly. “I mean Sarah.”
Grant smiled largely. Her words hung in the air, both staring into the distance, waiting for the other to pull them down. “She’s fine,” he replied with a laugh. It had taken Mamma almost a Yeahr to stop referring to Sarah as Gina and every once in a while she still slipped. “She and the Nazi already have the wedding planned”