“I prefer working over retirement, Nancy, you know that.”
“Blame your son,” she reminds him, referring to Uncle Justin’s success in putting a cap on term limits while he served as Senator. It put his Congressman father out of a job but was the right thing to do. If the President has limits to protect the people from corruption and too much power, then why shouldn’t that apply to our House of Representatives?
We embrace, the smell of lavender and lemon on her, familiar. “I was so happy to hear you were coming by. I can’t remember the last time you visited us alone.”
My cousin Ethan has lunches with them regularly. Now that he’s married and a father, his whole family comes. His sister Emma, too, sometimes. I’m sure Hannah goes, too, if they do.
Sure, we’re all here for our Family BBQs, and those happen often. But just me and them? She’s right. It doesn’t happen. I can say the same for my brothers and sisters, too.
Dad wasn’t close to the family when his service ended in the Marines. He and Mom had us four kids. We were an insular unit. Mom’s sister Kathy and her family would have us over for dinner, or we’d have them. Uncle Jake and Dad are close, and our families would blend. But I can’t remember a single time it was just our family and Grandpa Michael and Grandma Nance.
We head inside, Grandpa resting his hand on my shoulder blade. “How is it for you, Wyatt? Very dangerous?”
Grandma asks with concern. “Are you safe?”
“Of course he’s safe, Nancy. He’s the one keeping you safe!”
“All by myself,” I brag, which makes her laugh.
“I don’t know about that. I like to think I’m the only one keeping her safe,” Grandpa says, dropping his hand to take hers.
Her warm brown eyes shine with love. “You both protect me. How’s that? That make you feel better?”
“Say it’s just me.”
She grins, “It’s just you, Michael.”
He gives her a brief kiss, just a gentle pressing of their lips as I watch and wonder how you keep something like that alive for over sixty years.
“Wyatt, can I get you some homemade ginger-ale? I just made some this morning before my crossword.”
“Sounds good, Grandma.”
“He can’t have a beer,” Grandpa says, raising a white eyebrow at my gun.
“I know he can’t!”
“About to start his shift.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Give him a shot.”
Grandma’s hand freezes on the refrigerator door. She whips her head around, both of us looking at him.
He smirks, “Gotcha.”
Silent laughter shakes my head as I walk to the back door and look out. Just past their remodeled porch is a large, flat area of land where our Family BBQs are thrown. The only evidence today are poles standing naked, twinkle lights put in storage until next time. Beyond that is an expansive lawn, a fence of tall trees there maybe two hundred years, and winding stone paths that lead to edges I can’t see from here. My gaze rests on the dolphin fountain that dried out long ago, bleached bone-white by decades of intense sunlight and Georgia rain storms.
That’s why I came here.
“You ever have that fountain looked at?”
Grandma Nance puts a cool glass in my hand and I kiss her cheek as thanks. Her warm eyes stare at the fountain as she lets Grandpa answer.
“We had it fixed twice, a long time ago, then never bothered.”
“Is it fixable?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
Enjoying a sip of the best damn drink ever made that didn’t have booze in it, I face my grandfather. “What if I gave you a hobby? Erase some of that boredom.”
Green eyes sharpen with the awareness that we’ve gotten to the reason for my visit. “I don’t want to be tinkering around with fountains, Wyatt.”
“No, you have someone else fix that. I think the family would like to see this one up and running, with all that history. Or maybe Ethan will give you the replica he had made for his office at Wyntech.”
Grandma Nance tilts her head. “Why are you feeling so nostalgic? Everything okay with your father?”
I squeeze her arm. “Dad’s fine. This isn’t about him. He’s good.”
Her worry clears a little, but not completely. Dad had PTSD from serving as a Marine, and I think Grandma will always be concerned for him, since he was her youngest, her baby. “Then what is it, Wyatt? Why are you thinking about that fountain today?”
“That storm the other day…” I notice their faces registering a memory of how severe it was. “You saw it? Not everyone did.”
“We were home,” Grandma nods.
Grandpa dryly adds, “Because we’re retired.”
She rushes over and smacks his chest. “Stop it!”
He laughs, green eyes twinkling as he grabs her fingers and gives them a squeeze. “You’re not retired. You don’t understand.”
“If you think being a mother of six, and then a grandmother of seventeen, and now a great-grandmother of a number that keeps growing more every month, isn’t like having a job, then our marriage is over!”
“I apologize.”
“You better,” she mutters, and leans against his side, facing me with fake annoyance that melts into a smile. “Can you imagine me ending it today?”
“Don’t even say that, woman!”
“Then you be careful, Michael.”
He chuckles and kisses the top of her hair. “Ride me until the day I die.”
“Not in front of Wyatt!”
He and I crack up, and she looks pleased with herself at turning his innocent statement into sophomoric humor. You don’t raise six boys without learning how to joke like one.
Taking a sip of fresh ginger-ale, I lick my lips and offer, “How about you guys raise six more?”
They stare at me, smiles fading. Grandpa says, “Wyatt, I don’t think we have it in us to raise more kids at this age. Are these from Tanner’s place?”
“Not kids. Six ducklings who lost their momma.”
Grandma’s eyes brighten and she looks up at her husband.
His hesitant gaze avoids her. “Birds? We don’t know anything about birds.”
“We could learn, Michael! They have lessons for everything online! Someone’s made
