Page 51 of The Affair
I was going to argue with him again, tell him he didn’t actually need to stay with me all day, especially knowing that the store was closed with both of us out.
But I knew it was no use.
He was here, and he wasn’t leaving, no matter how much I argued.
Somehow, when I knew this, my heart felt a little lighter.
And the only word to describe the emotion I was feeling wascherished.
I felt truly cherished.
“Damn,” I heard his voice echo when returning to the living room. “When you said there were a few more in that room, I don’t think I prepared myself for what that truly meant.”
I turned to see him carrying a large cardboard box, his arm muscles bulging from the effort it took. If I’d known this little trip to the guest bedroom included an arm show, I wouldn’t have complained nearly so much.
“I guess I didn’t realize how many there were,” I said, trying not to stare directly at his biceps. “My mom sort of locked everything of my nana’s in that room after she died and never really talked about it.”
“Well, there are a lot of binders. Either you sign on to this project for the next few years or you resign yourself to the idea of dictation because this is going to take a long time.”
I mentally groaned, looking at the gigantic box.
Obviously, he could see my frustration. “Okay, how about this? Since you are not exactly in the physical or mental state to do anything right now, why don’t I do some of the dictation, so you can perhaps get a feel for it? Maybe if you listen, you won’t be nearly as intimidated by the idea of it?”
“Okay,” I agreed, just happy with the idea of hearing his voice.
“Yeah?” He seemed pleased with himself. “Let me find a good one to try out. Or is there a specific one you want me to find? Are they in order?”
I sort of gave him a dazed look. “I don’t think my grandmother was that organized, and neither am I. I am just putting them in, and I figured I’d organize them later.”
He nodded, already bent forward in the box. “Good plan.” He carefully pulled another black binder out, this one virtually the same as the one on the coffee table. But he didn’t stop there. His curiosity had obviously been piqued. “There are several more like this,” he said. “Standard two-inch black binders. But way down here, there is a small box.”
Now, he wasn’t the only one who was curious.
“A box?” I found myself rising to a sitting position on the couch. “Can you get to it?”
He nodded. “I just need to move a few more binders. Man, your grandma was a hoarder.”
I laughed. “Not really. Her house was pretty minimalist, but she loved these journals. There used to be a closet in the hallway stuffed with them. Just rows and rows of black binders she’d filled up over the years.”
“Oh, I’ve got it,” he said, his hand elbow deep into the large cardboard box, both of us a little too excited over this find.
“It could be her jewelry,” I said as he pulled it out. “She always kept it in a box kind of like that.”
He gave me an amused look as we got our first look at the treasure. “Black plastic binders and an old shoebox for her jewelry. Your grandma must have been the most practical woman on the planet.”
I nodded, a small smile on my face. “She really was, but God, could that woman bake.”
A grin spread across his face, and he paused his rifling. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. That’s what I remember most about her. I used to count down the days until Christmas time when we’d get our package from Nana, full of Christmas cookies. Oh, and her cinnamon rolls!”
He laughed. “She sent you cinnamon rolls … in the mail?”
I nodded. “Yeah, didn’t everyone get cinnamon rolls in the mail at Christmastime? Man, what I wouldn’t give for one of those right now—well, maybe not right now. But any other day. And her oatmeal raisin cookies! Those were to die for.”
He made a sour face. “I’m not a fan of anything with raisins.”
“You’d love these. Guaranteed. I remember one day, when our family was visiting her over the summer, I was helping her make them, and I randomly suggested that she trade the raisins for chocolate chips. You would have thought I’d suggested putting rat poison in them.”
