Page 75 of Anchored

“Not used to wearing a shirt, huh?”

He turns a smile on me that makes my lungs constrict. I hope I never get used to it. “Why do shirts even have collars? They’re completely unnecessary.”

Grandma and Harold are outside the courthouse, a bouquet of dogwoods in her hands that matches her lace dress and Harold looking spiffy in his suit. He’s been eating like a horse since he’s been at Sunny Shores. Holt thinks it’s the superior food at his facility. I think it’s the magic of love. It’s a necessary sustenance one can’t define by science.

We follow them inside and stand by their sides as they hold hands and face the judge. He happens to remember Grandma and gives her a hug before he shakes Harold’s hand and gets on with the ceremony. When it comes time for the vows, Grandma says they wrote their own. She goes first, slipping a napkin out of the top of her dress.

“I promise to love you with the depth of someone who knows how rare and precious love is. Today, I vow to give you my love, let go of the past, and embrace the future. I offer you the autumn of my life. After all, it’s the slow setting of the sun at the end of the day that makes the most vibrant colors. I promise to be a companion worthy of your precious friendship. I pledge to you compassion in good times and bad, encouragement in sickness and health. While we cherish the memories of our individual pasts, we will create new experiences and memories in our new life together.”

Harold lets go with one hand to wipe his teary eyes. With a catch in his voice, he recites his own vows.

“I promise to share the rest of my journey, with all its joys and challenges, by your side. I vow to treasure this second chance at love and promise to embrace the past that made us while building a future filled with kindness, laughter, and love. I promise to love you, not as a chapter in my story, but as my partner in writing the rest of it. Forever my Gracie Mae.”

He then slides the original gold band onto Grandma’s finger, the one he gave her sixty years ago. By the time the judge pronounces them husband and wife, we’re all crying, including the judge’s secretary who’s handling the paperwork. After the papers are signed, she escorts us into the hallway with her congratulations.

Holt holds up the bottle of champagne he brought with us and the secretary hands out a stash of red Solo cups for our use. She retreats back into the office, leaving the four of us alone in the courthouse. Once our glasses are filled, Holt gives a toast.

“To the very embodiment of second chances. To the couple proving that sometimes, love really does last. May you have a long and happy life together.”

We all sip the bubbly. I feel the need to say something too. I hold up my cup and look around at the people who’ve become very dear to me this summer, but my gaze settles on Grandma.

“To the woman who’s saved me more than once already in my lifetime. I couldn’t be happier to see you get another chance at love. Thank you for believing in me and showing the way.” Then I turn to Harold. “Thank you for loving her the way you do. I heard this quote once and didn’t understand it until now. Even if love’s not ready today, you can try again tomorrow.”

“Praise God tomorrow is here!” Grandma chimes in, looking absolutely radiant and far younger than her seventy-eight years.

“Hear, hear,” Harold says, tapping his cup to mine before we all take another sip.

Grandma wiggles her eyebrows, thankfully colored in elegantly with a light brown pencil this time. “Now, what about you two? Have you set a date?”

Holt and I share a look. We’ve discussed it, but mostly our discussions end with more of that kissing he’s so good at before we can pinpoint a date.

“I need to tell my parents first. Sell my condo. Officially move here. Then we can make wedding plans,” I explain.

“Speaking of moving here,” Grandma releases her hold on Harold’s arm and shuffles over to the bench just outside the judge’s chambers where her bouquet and purse are waiting. She pulls out a white envelope and shuffles back. “This is for you, my darling.”

I take the envelope reluctantly. “It’s your wedding! I should be gettingyousomething.”

She waves me away. “I’m old and don’t need anything.” She takes Harold’s elbow again. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

They’re so stinking cute. Holt’s arm slides around my waist, and I rest my head on his shoulder for a moment, just soaking in the knowledge that Grandma’s healthy. She’s happy. She’s found her first love and has a partner in life again. All those worries I had at the beginning of summer are long gone.

I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope and take out the single sheet of paper, unfolding it and reading in my head. My mouth drops open and hot tears sting my eyes. I crush the paper to my chest and lurch forward, wrapping my arms around Grandma. She holds me tight like she always has.

“I know you don’t need it, but it can only belong to you, darling.”

I pull back, tears spilling onto my cheeks. It’s the deed to the cabin. Now in my name. The cabin where I journaled over my first crush, my first heartache, and the never-ending problems with my family. The cabin where Grandma showed me what unconditional love actually was. The cabin where I fell in love with Holt.

“My estate goes to you too, but I plan to live a long time with this guy, so don’t expect to see it anytime soon,” Grandma adds wryly.

I hug her again, then hug Harold, and when I can’t seem to stop myself, I hug Holt too before going around in the circle again. They all chuckle at my enthusiasm, but I don’t care. I plan to never stop hugging these precious people.

“Maple,” Dad’s voice booms from my cell phone speakers. He’s sitting in his study at home, a glass of scotch in his hand. Mom sticks her head into the screen and says hello. She’s still got scrubs on, so I know she just got home from some world-renowned surgery that will be written up in the medical journals. “Is Gracie all right?”

I nod, heart already beating erratically just seeing their faces. It makes me sad that seeing my own parents makes me anxious instead of warm and fuzzy. Then again, I have Grandma and Holt, and they’re all I need.

“She’s doing wonderfully.” I don’t mention her recent nuptials. That’s between her and her own son. “I have personal news to share with you.” They blink into the camera, looking like they expect me to say I’m on the streets and need a handout.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “I’m getting married.”

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