Page 37 of Sea La Vie
“No, no. I’m glad you did. I’ve wanted to talk about Emma for years,” he says softly.
“Who’s Emma, Grandpa?”
“My summer love,” he says, matter-of-factly. “The one that got away.”
“Your summer love?” I ask.
“Yes, my summer love,” Grandpa repeats. “Her dad helped get the bank on Water Street up and running, and for three months,we ran around town like summer would never end. I’ve always wondered what happened to her.” He tries to hand the ring back, but I curl his fingers around it instead.
“You keep it,” I say.
Grandpa's smile reaches ear to ear. “It sure is a tiny thing, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I saved up all summer for it.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the note again. “Do you remember this at all?” I ask again.
“Ahh,” Grandpa says. “I remember the day I found that note like it was yesterday.” He seemed to have no memory of us showing it to him before, but the ring seemed to trip his memory. And the “E” must be for Emma. “I’ve always wondered where she was, who she was with, and if she was happy.”
“With the internet these days, I bet we could find her,” I halfway joke.
Grandpa sits up a little straighter. “You really think you could do that?” He fiddles eagerly with his hands in his lap.
I glance at Lainey. “We can try,” I offer.
“Her name was Emma Calhoun,” Grandpa says. “She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, aside from your grandma.” He looks up at Lainey, then me, and for the first time all night, he looks hopeful. A new sparkle has replaced the milky dullness to his eyes.
“Do you think it’s possible she got married and has a different last name now?” Lainey gently asks.
Grandpa frowns. “Her parents wanted her to marry an Aiken. John was his first name. They were a prominent family in Charleston, where Emma was from—old money. Something I didn’t have, old or new,” Grandpa laughs. “That’s a name I’ll never forget. I’ve hated every John I’ve come across since,” he chuckles.
Someone knocks on the door then pushes it open. “Good evening,” a nurse says to us as she drops another cup ofmedicine and water down in front of him. “Mr. Matthews, it’s time for your medicine.” She stares at me for a bit, and I know that's her way of saying it’s time for us to leave without being rude.
“You’re going to have to give us a few minutes,” Grandpa says. “I think it’s finally time I tell someone my favorite story.”
15
Beau 1963
“Pay attention, son.”
Huh?” I ask, still looking in the opposite direction.
“I said pay attention, and help me get this cooler out of the boat.”
I continue to stare at the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, Dad’s words going through one ear and out the other.
Smack.I whirl around, looking for whatever just hit me in the head and knocked my hat off.
“Really?” I ask, warmth flooding my cheeks. At my feet is one of the fish we caught earlier, right beside my hat. I bend down and scoop it up, shoving it in my back pocket.I hope she didn’t see.
“Are you going to help or just stand there catching flies?” Dad asks. “You’re gaping like you’ve never seen a girl before.”
“Am not,” I mutter. I bend down and grab the other end of the cooler and hoist it up onto the dock while dad pushes from the other end. He reaches out a hand, and I take it, helping him out of the boat.
“You did good today, kid,” he says and ruffles my hair. My face flames again, and I glance out the side of my eye to see if she noticed. She has her back turned to me now, talking to who I assume are her parents.
She’s dressed in a pale blue dress that reaches right below her knees, and a bow the same color holds back her pretty copper-colored hair. Her dad has a suit on with shoes shinier than a new penny. Her mom is dressed similarly to her, with a floral print dress and sensible, black shoes. Her dad hands her a wad of bills, and she places them in a pocketbook I hadn’t noticed before.
“Thanks,” I tell Dad, finally registering his compliment.
