Page 100 of This Kind of Forever

Now it reminds me of her.

“Do you know why I got it?” I ask.

“Why?”

“Because even though it was likely just a doodle to you, it made me feel special. I know how close you keep your art. Seeing it made me feel like I’d earned the privilege.”

Hallie leans in and places a kiss on my lips. “You are special. You always have been.”

“Hallie, I…”

I love you.

I want to say the words, but they get stuck in my throat. Flashbacks of that day on the beach cross my mind. The look on Hallie’s face is burned into my memory. I couldn’t survive that a second time.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you came home,” I say instead.

Her expression warms. “I’m glad I came home, too.”

It isn’t a profession of love, but it’s enough for now. It has to be enough.

THIRTY-FIVE

HALLIE

Walking into the retirement home,I’m greeted with a blast of warm air. I quickly unzip my coat and pull it off, draping it over my arm. Pops isn’t in the lobby like usual, so I take the elevator up to his floor. I find him in the lounge.

Pops smiles when he sees me. “There’s my Junebug.”

I shake my head at the nickname, but a smile still stretches my lips. “Hi, Pops.”

He adjusts his glasses, then scrutinizes me with his assessing stare. “You seem sad.”

Taking a seat across from him, I try to school my expression. “I’m not sad. I’ve been helping Carole a bit more lately. Maybe I just look tired.”

His lips flatten into an unimpressed line. “You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, but don’t play me for a fool, young lady.”

I sigh, giving in. “Amanda has been calling me.”

“Ah.” Understanding washes over his features. “I take it you haven’t answered?”

My grandfather has his own complicated relationship with his daughter. Despite all she’s done to break it, I don’t think Pops could ever sever their connection, no matter how much it hurts to hang on to. Still, he has never judged me for how I choose to deal with her, just like I never hold his choices against him. Family ties are prone to tangle, and they’re hard to remove.

I chew on my lip. “No. I told myself I wouldn’t after last time. I’m done. But I just…”

Pops waits patiently as I collect my scattered thoughts.

“I guess I’m just grieving what could have been.”

I’ve come to terms with who my mother is, which is why I’ve finally made the decision to go fully no-contact. I officially blocked her number last night after I sent her a long message reminding her why we don’t talk. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still mourn the version of us that exists in my imagination. The version of us that’s happy and unburdened by everything that tries to weigh us down.

He gives me a sad smile. “I am, too.”

I don’t say anything else, and neither does he. There isn’t anythingtosay. But simply sitting here with Pops, who understands Amanda like I do, makes me feel better.

Soon, some of the residents on Pops’s floor start heading downstairs for the day’s activity. My grandfather plays a lot of bingo, and he wins a lot, too. Today’s activity, I quickly learn, is painting.