Page 98 of You, with a View

I imagine her trying to figure out which way her life would go. Which way was right, and how much it was going to hurt either way. “So what happened?”

“Like I said, we went to get our marriage license. It was just before finals. Kat was a nervous wreck, looking over her shoulder every moment, but when we got that license in hand, she seemed relieved.

“Two days later, there was a knock at our fraternity house in the middle of the night. It was Kat’s friend, Gail.”

“Damn,” Theo murmurs.

“She told me that Kat’s family and Robert’s friend had shown up at her dorm, saying they knew about the elopement. Her parents made her pack up her things,” Paul says. “The timing was too coincidental, and Robert’s friend being there when they got her still makes me think he was the culprit.”

“Screw that guy,” I mutter. Paul and Theo chuckle in tandem.

“Gail escorted Kat to the bathroom, and Kat told her where all of our letters and pictures were. She was able to write me a quick note telling me what happened. She told me not to worry, we’d figure it out, but of course I was worried sick.”

“How could you not be?” I say, feeling sick myself. “Was that it? You never got to see each other again?”

“Oh no. I was furious and determined to figure it out. My parents urged me to let her go, but that, of course, made me dig my heels in even further.” He looks at his grandson, a soft, sad smile on his face. “Stubborn pride runs in the family.”

“Granddad,” Theo says, a warning in his voice. I look between the two men as they seem to have a silent conversation.

Finally, Paul looks back at me. “Kat’s friend in Glenlake was able to act as an intermediary for us. We sent letters, had a couple of calls. I held on to our marriage license, just in case, but she got more hopeless, even as she insisted she’d figure something out. Her parents were very good at persuading her, telling her she’d find someone new, that they’d never accept me. She’d had a wonderful relationship with them up to that point, so their opinion mattered.”

“So did yours,” I say.

“Yes,” he says. “But so didhers.I offered to talk to her parents, to assure them, but it was too late. Too much time had passed, too many lies and secrets in our relationship. I never would have gained their trust.”

“Wasn’t there a chance they’d come around?”

“Maybe they would’ve tried in their way, but what if Kat’s relationship with her parents eventually deteriorated beyond repair? What if Kat lost them?” Paul shakes his head. “I couldn’t have lived with that. I loved her, but I didn’t want her to sacrifice, even though she was willing to. We would’ve fallen apart under that pressure. Hell, we already had. It took me years to recognize that truth, but once I did, I could see it from the start.”

“She was a strong woman.” Why am I arguing? I know how it ends. If Paul and Gram had ended up together, Theo and I wouldn’t even exist.

“She was,” he says, equally kind and firm, “but she was also twenty at the time, when women were either dependent upon their family or their husband. I loved your grandmother and I always will, but that relationship wasn’t to be. It taught me the lesson I needed then, and for my first marriage, too.”

Theo’s eyes catch Paul’s in the rearview. “What lesson?”

“When it’s right to fight for love, and when it’s right to let it go. Kat and I were built on an already crumbling foundation. Pushingfor that relationship would have ended in disaster, and in the end, we both knew it.”

“So, did you break up for good in that letter I found?” I ask.

“No, I drove up to Glenlake,” Paul says. “It was midsummer by that time. We met at a park near her house and talked about what we should do, though we knew by that time. We just had to say it out loud. It was hard and very emotional. For a while I wasn’t okay, and I suspect she wasn’t either. I sent her the letter you found in hopes that we’d both heal. And we did.”

My throat goes tight; even if she felt like she failed, she ultimately found her happiness. She doesn’t need to be with me now to tell me that. I think of her and Grandpa Joe dancing in the kitchen. My dad and his brothers. Our raucous Christmases and Gram’s wide, happy smile.

I’m going through all the stages of grief at once. Listening to Paul and Gram’s story hurts. But knowing how it played out soothes the sting of their heartache.

“It took time,” I say finally.

“Healing always does,” Paul says. “Remember, nothing lasts forever. You have to hold on to the good things, knowing you may be on borrowed time with them. And with the bad, recognize that eventually it will pass.”

“Any regrets?” Theo asks, his tone searching.

Paul shakes his head, gazing at his grandson. “None. Any failure I felt at the time turned into opportunity down the road. The pain led me to my first wife and our boys, to you, and ultimately to Vera.”

We all sink into the silence together, considering that.

I let out a breath. “This is going to take some processing.”

“Undoubtedly,” Paul replies. “It took me years. Give yourself time.”

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