“Of course I understand. Better than perhaps anyone. It wasn’t easy for me to watch Sunday suffer all those months. To see the cancer slowly eating away at her, consuming her until there was nothing left. The love of my life was dying by inches, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to save her. That sort of helplessness leaves a deep, deep scar.”
“If you know that, then why…” Padraig wasn’t sure how to word his question.
“Why am I asking you to risk that pain again?”
Padraig nodded.
“Because you’re young, and there’s a beautiful, sweet woman just a few blocks away who’s offering you a second chance at true happiness. There are a great many things you didn’t have the opportunity to experience with Mia. Fatherhood, buying a house, raising a family, bickering over money, fighting over what to name your fourth son because you’d already used all the boy names you could agree on. I had all of that. Sunday and I had decades together; you and Mia had but one year.”
“I get that, but…” He paused. Padraig wouldn’t waste the breath to lie to his grandfather, to say he didn’t want to be a father someday. That feeling had always been there, but he’d buried it deep after Mia’s death, fighting hard to snuff it out, to douse that fire by denying it kindling. However, it wouldn’t flicker out, and lately, every time he saw Colm with the twins or Fergus texted a picture of Sophie, it sparked bright again.
“Things were different for me, Paddy. I had a houseful of children—seven devastated kids—all looking to me to care for them. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—divide my attention, my time. They’d already lost so much. Too much. So I wrapped my life around them because I believed that was what they needed. But now…”
“But now?” Padraig prompted.
“But now…I’m not so sure it was what I needed. The real reason I’m telling you to overcome your fear is because…” Pop Pop took a deep breath. “I know all the ways to the depths of my soul that you are a stronger man than I.”
Padraig didn’t have a clue how to respond to that. His grandfather was one of the strongest men he knew. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m asking you, Paddy, to have the courage I didn’t. I’m an old man, and I’ve had a lot of time to look back on my life, to reflect on the decisions I’ve made. There are things I regret. Sometimes I wonder if I’d opened my eyes and looked around, if I’d risked my heart again, if I would have found an Emmy, a second chance at love and happiness.”
Padraig had never—not once—heard Pop Pop talk about finding someone else. He’d always claimed he’d met and married his soul mate, that Sunday had been it for him forever. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Look at how long I’ve lived without Sunday. Another whole lifetime. If I’d taken the chance I’m telling you to take right now, I might have lived the second half of my life with a woman I could have loved every bit as much as Sunday. As I said before, time is relative. But maybe more importantly, love isn’t finite.”
“You still miss Grandma Sunday. You still love her.”
“I do. Just as you’re always going to miss and love Mia. But you’re far too young to doom yourself to a life alone.”
Padraig nodded, Pop Pop’s words sinking in deep as the guilt that had been sucking him down like quicksand suddenly loosened, his grandfather throwing him a rope, allowing him a chance to climb out. What would he give to live as a free man?
He saw Emmy’s face again in his mind. He’d walked away because of fear and the end result was the same. He’d still lost her, and the pain of that was unbearable.
Pop Pop looked down, studying the floor for a few moments before he lifted his gaze to him and continued speaking. “I’m a man like any other, lad. And going to bed night after night, year after year, is lonely. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and I definitely don’t wish it for you. Give your heart to Emmy. She’s perfect for you. She adores you, and I don’t doubt for a moment she will fill your days and nights with laughter and love and a houseful of kids if you want. Don’t throw all of that away because of fear. Do you love Emmy?”
“Yes. God, yes,” he replied without a second’s hesitation.
“Then that means taking a risk. Neither of you can give the other any guarantees. That’s not how life works. Nothing is certain. But love…well, that’s the only thing that makes life worth living, that gives us a reason to get up every morning.”
Padraig considered those words, and once again, he recalled Emmy’s face on Thursday night. “I hurt her.”
Pop Pop nodded. “So make it right.”
“I don’t know if I can. I walked away from her when she needed me. My behavior…it was unforgiveable.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re human. You made an understandable mistake when faced with a genuine fear. One you now recognize and can fight against in the future.”
“What if I’ve already lost her?” Now that Pop Pop had shone a light on what his future could hold, Padraig wanted it with all his heart.
“You didn’t. You just need to convince Emmy you’re not merely talking the talk. You have to walk the walk.”
Padraig chuckled. “You sound like Kelli there.”
Pop Pop grinned. “That’s exactly who I’m quoting. She came by the pub this morning full of piss and vinegar, prepared to, and I quote, ‘kick his ass and drag him kicking and screaming if I have to’ back to Emmy, to make things right. Your father and I convinced her I might be a more levelheaded spokesperson.”
“Walk the walk, huh?”
“Which means taking your time. Having patience. You can’t look at this relationship with Emmy through the Mia lens.”
“Time is relative,” Padraig repeated, suddenly understanding. “I get it. I can do that. I will do that.”
“I believe in you, Paddy. You can do anything you put your mind to. Apologize—grovel, if necessary—but make it right. Then grab that girl with both hands and hold on tight. I promise, if you do that, you’ll be able to live your life without regrets.”
“Okay. Yeah,” he said, smiling for the first time in days.
“Good.” Pop Pop rose as Padraig walked him to the door. His grandfather reached out and gave him a warm hug. “Make me proud, lad. I love you,” he said as he left.
Padraig returned to the couch, feeling a thousand pounds lighter than he had just an hour earlier. His stomach growled, and he grinned, reaching for the burger and fries.
Between the food and Pop Pop’s visit, Padraig felt ready to take on the world, ready to claim the woman he loved.
But first…there was someone else he needed to talk to.
An hour later, Padraig stood before Mia’s tombstone, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. The sky was overcast, the gloomy, gray weather holding on tight after the storms from a few nights earlier.
“Hey, you,” he said softly, placing the flowers on the grass in front of her grave. He knelt down, running his finger over Mia’s name carved in the stone, then along the month and day—today’s date. “It’s been three years, Mia. I miss you so much.”