Page 25 of Royal Agenda

Grandma laughed lightly, the sound like wind chimes on the breeze it was so free and light. “It was so long ago I’d nearly forgotten.” She picked up a crumb and put it on her plate. “We were young and I had so many dreams. I wanted to see the world. It was an age when doors were opening for women and I felt like I could be anyone I wanted to be.” Her voice trailed off and her eyes unfocused, like she was seeing into the past.

Goosebumps broke out on Grace’s arms.

“I wondered if tying myself to a man would limit my life, my dreams.”

Grace held her breath in the silence. She’d had those same thoughts. How could she do what she did with a husband and children? Her gifts required freedom and a flexibility that the school calendar wouldn’t permit. Not to mention, any man with a job would be tied to his desk. Sure, she could support them on her trust fund, but she didn’t want a free loader either. She wanted a man—someone who was strong and capable, independent and yet loyal and dedicated.

“I went to your Grandpa,” Grandma continued, “and I—what’s the phrase you use? Unloaded on him.” She smiled with the memory. “He didn’t give me a speech about how he’d support me in whatever I wanted to do. He simply said: Nancy, you can do anything you set your mind to do, and I don’t think I could stand in your way if I wanted to, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Grace could feel Grandpa in those words. That’s exactly how he would have phrased it, and she could practically smell the Old Spice he always wore.

“I thought long and hard about what he said and realized I could have it all. I could do all the things I wanted to do and be loved by him. I just had to reach for it. I had to reach for him. I kissed him long and slow, and from that moment forward, I never once questioned marrying him.”

Grace relaxed into the ending of the story, content to know how the rest of it panned out. Grandma started her business. Grandpa worked for an auto dealership selling cars until retirement. She had her thing, and he had his, and they raised a beautiful family who loved each other to this very day.

She covered Grandma’s hand with her own. “You picked a good one, Grandma.”

Grandma nodded. “Best man I ever met.” She glanced down and grimaced. Leaning over, she pinched a pair of Steph?n’s swim trunks that sat on the floor between her fingers and held it up. She lifted her eyebrow, asking what Grace wanted to do about this.

Grace took in the other three swimsuits, the sheets in a pile on the couch, the charging cords hanging out of every socket, and the take-out container on the side table. Out the front window, the hideous van took up the whole view. She suddenly had an idea.

“I was going to donate the van to a charity.” She tapped her bottom lip. “I think I found the one.”

“Oh?” Grandma asked, lifting one eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, the homeless surfer fund.”

A slow smile spread across Grandma’s face. “I wouldn’t mind donating to that cause myself.”

Grace hopped up and snatched clothing from off every surface. Grandma pulled out a vacuum and followed behind, cleaning up the salt and sand that fell out. In no time, they had all of Stephán’s things loaded into the van. Grandma even put in three cans of stew and a box of crackers so he wouldn’t starve.

The two of them locked the back door where Stephán would normally barge into the bungalow without asking and sat on the front porch chairs like two Southern ladies, sipping raspberry lemonades as they waited for the tide to go out, which would send Stephan inland. The view of The Palms was nice, and with each moment, the rightness of her decision filled Grace up and settled around her.

They didn’t have to wait long before Stephán came around the side of the house carrying two surfboards and wearing a scowl. “The door’s locked,” he ground out as he dragged one board through the flower bed, leaving a disaster behind. “And my arms are tired because I had to carry your board back.”

Grace stood up and stopped him before he made it to the porch.

“Stephán,” she began in an even tone. “It’s been fun having you around, but it’s time for you to go.”

“Go?” He set his boards against the house. “Go where?”

She held up the van keys, letting them dangle in front of his face. “Anywhere the surf takes you.”

He stared at them and then turned to look at the van. “I don’t get it.”

Grandma huffed and mumbled, “Not that hard,” into her cup.

Grace barely hid her smile. “I’m giving you the van. The title is in the glove box.” She couldn’t hold back her sarcasm anymore.

“Why, babe? We have a good thing going.”

Grace turned to Grandma and widened her eyes. Grandma nodded and shooed her to continue.

It was time to pull out the smoking gun. “Stephán,” she gulped. She’d intended to say babe, but the word stuck in her throat like a horse pill. “I’ve always known that your first love is surfing. I just can’t stand to compete with her anymore when I know I’ll always come in second.” She dramatically threw her head to the side as if admitting as much was personally painful.

Grandma lifted her glass to salute Grace’s performance, encouraging her to continue. Grace pinched her lips together to hold back her laughter. She gathered herself and turned back to continue.

“You were meant to be free, to ride where your heart calls, and I can’t hold you back any longer. Your things are already packed.” More like thrown inside with the same haphazard abandon he’d exhibited in the house, but who was keeping track?

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