Sitting at the wooden dining table, I look over my shoulder to salt and pepper haired Gramps, who’s in the kitchen making me one of his famous egg banjos. With his Fred Flintstone apron on, singing along to Radio 2, I giggle to myself at how silly he is.
“Gramps, why do you call me Sunflower?” I ask, swinging my legs forward and back and continuing with my colouring. I decided to make a card for Nanny to say good luck in her latest play. She’s an actress. Sometimes she lets me go to her rehearsals with her and watch.
“Because you are a source of unconditional love, darling.” He smiles over at me and I giggle. He’s so funny.
“What does that mean?” I ask, watching as he plates up my sandwich and brings it to the table where I’m sitting. Placing it in front of me, he sits in the seat beside me and takes a sip of his coffee.
“It means that you are loved very much by everyone,” he says softly, smiling down at me as I tuck into my sandwich.
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I wait for him to continue. I love Gramps’ stories.
“Sunflowers are known for following the sun. You do that too; you always see the light. The positive in everything. Your nan says it’s because you’re young and haven’t been jaded by the world yet, but I know better. You’re special, my little Sunflower.”
I’m not one hundred percent sure what he means but I smile anyway, because he loves me. And that is all I need to know.
Chapter Four
Pulling out a plastic chair at a small table by the window, I have a seat and gaze out across the endless flowers. A beautiful, cloudless blue sky is a rare sight in England, and I smile knowing the sun is shining down for Gramps.
Taking a sip of the coffee I bought, I pull my kindle out of my bag and start reading. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get lost in a book. After Gramps passed, I struggled mentally, and my anxiety went through the roof. Concentrating on anything was a struggle. Reading and writing poetry have always been my escape. I love poetry, always have. But I haven’t been able to really write since he passed, only little words and phrases here and there. I miss it. It’s always been an emotional outlet for me, but it’s as if words just can’t do justice to the weight of my loss. It took a lot of visits to the doctor, support from my parents and a therapist to get me to where I am today. I unravelled, and it was awful. But I feel like I’m slowly finding my feet again.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” Looking up, I’m momentarily dazzled by the man in front of me. With light brown hair and bright blue eyes, he’s gorgeous. He has a small scruff of facial hair and a friendly smile. I realise that he’s still staring down at me, waiting for my reply.
“No, help yourself.” Gesturing to the empty seat, I send him a small smile and go back to my book. Instead of taking it to another table like I expect, he pulls it out and sits down opposite me at my table.
“Thanks. It’s super busy in here today. Must be the good weather,” he says, taking a sip of his drink and smiling over at me. “I’m Tyler.”
“Isabelle,” I say, taking him in. In dark blue jeans and a light blue polo shirt, he looks like he stepped off of a magazine cover.
“Pretty,” he says, leaning back in his chair and thanking the waitress who comes over with his order. Looking at the jacket potato filled with cheese and beans, my mouth waters.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks, looking between us with a kind smile.
“Can I get one of those please?” I say, motioning to Tyler’s plate. My stomach rumbles in agreement and I can feel my face heating.
“Sure thing,” she says, heading back to the kitchen.
Tyler tucks into his jacket potato before saying, “Good choice. So Isabelle, what brings you here today?”
“Sunflowers, what else?” I motion to the fields outside and he laughs, rolling his eyes. He did ask for that.
“Figured as much; are you from around here?” Taking another bite of his meal, he eyes me with curiosity.
“No, I live a couple of hours away. Just travelled up for the day to see the sunflowers.”
The waitress reappears with my jacket potato and the receipt, letting me know I can pay at the till on my way out. Thanking her, I tuck in and moan at the taste.
“Good, right?” Motioning with his fork to the food.
“So good,” I agree while shovelling another fork full of potato into my mouth.
“I’m guessing you’re a big sunflower fan?” he says, motioning to my sunflower locket. I reach for it out of habit and run my fingers over it.
“Something like that,” I say, smiling and continuing to eat my potato. I didn’t realise how hungry I was. I skipped breakfast this morning, opting for a coffee and a head start instead, not knowing how bad traffic would be with this rare period of wonderful weather.
After a few moments of eating in a comfortable silence, I decide to be honest. Get it all off of my chest. Why not? He did ask. I won’t see this stranger again, so what’s the harm in unloading all of my baggage on him?
“My grandfather would have been eighty today. He died last year. He used to call me his little Sunflower. Sunflowers were kind of our thing,” I say, smiling as I remember all the times we spent together. God, what I wouldn’t do to have one more day with him. Even just an hour. I’d take anything I could get.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Tyler says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. I smile back at him in appreciation. “That must have been rough.”
“He was my best friend. I took the loss really hard. It messed me up a bit. I guess I’m just trying to find my way again. Remind myself that I need to live, not just exist.” It feels cathartic to get that off my chest to someone who isn’t paid by the hour to listen to me.
“I get that.” Nodding his head, he takes a sip of his drink and looks out of the window at the flowers waving at us in the gentle breeze.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s your story?”
“Don’t laugh,” he says, with a charming but bashful smile, that has me intrigued.
“Ok?” I offer, wondering where he is going with this.
“I wanted to go on a road trip, so I looked up the must-see places in the UK on the internet and this was on the first list I came across.”
“So you’re driving around the country crossing things off of your list?” I ask, a little impressed at his adventurousness. I wish I was that impulsive.
“Pretty much. I needed a change of scenery. Life’s been pretty rough the past year, so I figured, life’s too short. I’m doing something for me. So I have my savings, my car, and here I am.” He grins at me and I’m in awe of his spontaneity.
“Wow. I admire that,” I offer in sincerity. That must feel liberating.
“What? Having no life plan?” He laughs and finishes the last bite of his meal, before placing the knife and fork neatly back on the plate and using the napkin to clean his face. I find my eyes following the movement, with his light scruff of brown facial hair and thin lips, there’s no doubt that he’s an attractive man.
“No. Of having the courage to chase your dreams.”