“Your grandfather can’t have too much sugar,” Mrs. Nash said, rushing over.
“I know,” Wyatt replied, opening the box to show a dozen plain cake donuts. He touched his mother’s shoulder. “I’ve got this. Take a break, Mum.”
She sighed and finally gave in. “Okay. I’ll be back in an hour,” she assured us.
“Take your time,” Wyatt called as she hurried out the door.
When his mother was gone, he crossed the room to the simple kitchenette and put the box of donuts down on the counter. Taking one out, he cut it into quarters, splitting the pieces between two plates. He walked back over to me, handed me a plate and took my hand again. “Come on, I want to introduce you to my grandparents.”
A warm stab of sympathy jolted my heart as I watched how kind Wyatt was when he approached his grandmother. “Hey, Gram-cracker. I want you to meet someone very special. This is Layne,” he said, putting my hand in hers. “Layne, this is my grandmother, Rose McAllister.”
His grandmother’s face lit up. “Hello, puppet. Aren’t you darling?” she said, taking me in.
I smiled at her adorable phrasing. “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you.”
The sweet old woman patted my hand and then looked at Wyatt. “And you’re very handsome, too, young man. What’s your name?”
Understanding crackled through me as Wyatt patiently took my plate and set it down on the nightstand with his. Then he took his grandmother’s hand. “I’m Wyatt.”
She smiled serenely. “I have a grandson named Wyatt.”
“I know,” he said, returning her smile.
“Oh, do you know him?”
“I do,” Wyatt said.
His grandmother clasped her hands together, overjoyed. “He’s a good boy. He’s starting fifth grade,” she replied. “I would so love to see him again. Please give him my love, won’t you?”
I watched Wyatt’s throat bob with emotion. “I will, Gram-cracker.” He picked up one of the plates he’d set on the nightstand. “We brought you something,” he said, gently setting the plate on the soft blanket covering her lap. “It’s from my new favorite bakery.”
She smiled. “My Henry loves sweets. I wish he were here to enjoy this.” A sadness swept into her eyes so suddenly that I felt my heart constrict. She closed her eyes. “I miss him,” she gasped. “I miss him so much.”
“It’s okay,” Wyatt said, taking the plate away and pulling a small handheld recorder out of the top draw of the nightstand. “He’s still here,” Wyatt said, placing the recorder in his grandmother’s shaking hands.
He pressed play and a deep male voice filled the room. A peaceful look fell over his grandmother’s face as she sank back against her pillows, closing her eyes as the man in the recording spoke to her.
“My dearest, Rose. You’re as beautiful as ever. I still remember the day we met. You were sitting on your front steps, wearing that brown dress with the white polka dots.” He paused to give a raspy laugh. “I was up to no good, but you still gave me the time of day. I couldn’t believe it. Never in my life had I expected to catch your eye. I asked you out right on the spot.” He laughed again. “You were only thirteen and I was fifteen, but hey, I didn’t want to miss my chance. And do you remember what we did? Boy, I sure do. It was the best day of my life, Rosy. I wish we could go back there right now and dance the night away at the Coconut Club again.”
The deep baritone voice on the recording started singing a Dean Martin song and my eyes filled with tears, but Wyatt’s grandmother looked supremely at peace as she held onto the recorder.
I jumped when I felt Wyatt’s hand slip into mine. He nodded away from his grandmother, signaling it was time we leave her be.
Next he led me a short distance away to the other bed in the room. It was situated by the window. The view of the garden outside was beautiful. So was the warmth from the sunlight filtering in. I clung to it, wanting to soak up as much comfort as possible after the heart wrenching experience with Wyatt’s grandmother.
“Gramps,” Wyatt said, touching the old man’s shoulder. “I snuck you some donuts.”
I watched the old man’s eyes move from the television to Wyatt. His eyes were startlingly similar to his grandson’s. Wyatt’s were a deeper green, more of an emerald compared to his grandfather’s bottle green, but still the family resemblance was there. And for some reason, that made this that much harder.
I found myself wondering if Wyatt saw himself when he looked at the sad old man lying in the bed. I tried not to, but the image had already cemented itself in my brain. Suddenly my chest tightened with anxiety, realizing just how precious each moment of youth truly was.
“How’d you sneak that past the warden?” Gramps asked, in a raspy voice I recognized from the recording.
“Don’t get too excited,” Wyatt replied. “Mum made sure there weren’t any sprinkles or frosting.”
“Of course, she did.” Gramps gave a husky laugh. “Oh, well. I’ll take what I can get.”
Wyatt winked and handed the plate to his grandfather, who I noticed seemed to only be able to move the right side of his body, and with tremendous effort.
“So, have you come to get schooled in chess again?” Gramps asked.
“No, actually I wanted you to meet someone special,” Wyatt said, taking my hand again and pulling me to stand next to him so his grandfather could see me better. “This is Layne Hall. Layne, this is my grandfather, Henry McAllister.”
“Well, hello, young lady,” Gramps said. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
My eyes darted to Wyatt. Finally? Had Wyatt been talking about me?
Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck nervously, confirming my suspicions, and my heart sparked in my chest, despite the lecture I’d had with it this morning.
I was not supposed to have feelings for Wyatt. We were supposed to keep things professional. But standing here watching him laugh and dote on his grandparents was making that impossible.
“So, do I get to hear this legendary voice?” Gramps asked, his green eyes sparkling as they settled on me.
“Oh, no,” Wyatt said, jumping in to save me. “We just wanted to stop by and say hello. We’re heading to record those tracks I was telling you about after we leave here.”
“Ah, gotta save the pipes for the real deal, huh?”
I nodded.
“Smart thinking,” Gramps replied, his eyes now studying his grandson. “But you know, a little warmup might not hurt.” Then he burst into song, belting out Moon River at the top of his lungs.
Wyatt’s ears turned pink, but when he looked at me, he just shrugged and started singing along with his grandfather. The sight was too adorable not to get caught in their enthusiasm. Before I knew it, I was singing along with them.
When the song finished, I was giggling so hard, I was almost breathless.
“Not bad, Gramps,” Wyatt said, giving his grandfather a fist bump, that made my heart squeeze with bittersweet joy. The man’s body might be paralyzed, but his spirit was not.
“I’ve still got it,” Gramps replied, his eyes shining as they settled on me for a moment. He spoke to Wyatt, but his eyes never left mine. “And boy were you right about her.”