The Reason

I fold the corners of the last box together, and dust puffs up around me like smoke. I swat at the air, trying to push the particles away so they don’t stick to my wet face.

“Well, that’s the last thing from inside,” I say over my shoulder to my cousin James. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” I whisper, wiping the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand.

James crouches beside me, rubbing my back and then pulling me into a hug. His sweater is so soft against my face, I fear I’ll ruin it with my salty tears.

It’s been two months since our grandmother passed away, and our family finally worked up the courage to go through her things. She was the rock of the family, the thing that kept us together. With this final, yet daunting task behind us, I’m not sure if there’ll be anything left of our small family. We’re just two cousins with parents who hate each other. There’ll be no more meetings out of necessity or get-togethers to make the woman we all loved so dearly happy. We will all resume our boring lives, and the contact will dissipate and then one day cease altogether. The thought of this makes my chest ache, along with the surge of tears that come every time my eyes glance around the empty room and land on another spot that holds a memory.

After what feels like an hour of weeping in James’s arms, we both get up from the floor and move the last box to the donation pile. The summer sun is just setting through the kitchen window, and the familiar glow pulls me toward it. “I think I’m going to go sit out back for a while,” I say to James. “You should call your dad and let him know we’re all finished so he can come pick this stuff up tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” His eyes glance over at me pitifully, but his words are filled with concern.

James loved our grandma just as much as I did, but I know he feels like I lost something greater than he did. And I feel it too. For him, she was an amazing grandmother who loved us endlessly, but he had two parents who worshiped the ground he walked on. Every desire was fed to him on a silver platter, and he wanted for nothing. I, on the other hand, was born to parents who were chained to their addictions and screamed at each other (and me) every night until their throats were raw. All I ever wanted was to be held and loved, and she gave that to me. Our grandma was my safe place. The one person I could run to with any problem, and I never felt afraid at her house. James knew this, and for that, he knew I grieved her differently.

“No, thanks,” I said, my voice coming out like a whisper.

James glanced out the window and then back at me, “Okay, well, I’ll be in here if you need me.”

It’s strange what death does. It reopens relationships that you thought were long gone and changes them in ways you never knew could exist. Since I moved away from home at twenty-four, James and I have barely said more than ten sentences to each other in ten years. Now, with our grandmother gone, there is a compassion and warmth from him I never knew. One that we had as children but had since been lost.

I’m met with the evening warmth as I push open the door and step onto the back porch. The chairs have sat overturned on top of the patio table for years and are caked in dust. My grandma never wanted to get rid of them, because she loved being outside when she was well, and one day she might enjoy it again. But that day never came.

I set a chair down and turn it to face the expansive backyard, my back toward the house. The things my grandma truly loved are in this yard, and I wanted to see them one last time before they were gone. They are the last things we have to clean up, and we are saving them for the very end.

The wind chimes she loved so much tinkle overhead, and the lawn ornaments that everyone told her she had too many of sit like sentinels, guarding her oasis.

I close my eyes, allowing the remaining sunlight of the day to kiss my skin. My grandma and I had the love of sunshine in common. Although not great for you, there’s nothing more peaceful than letting the rays seep into your pores and warm you from within.

The back door creaks open, breaking my meditative state, and footsteps softly approach behind me. “James, I’m really not in the mood for company. No offense.” The footsteps stop, and I can feel eyes upon me. Annoyed, I shoot up in my chair and whip around toward the door, “James, I said—”

My words catch in my throat, and my heart plummets into my stomach when I realize it’s not James. No. Instead, it’s the first man I ever loved: Daniel Holland.

I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to conjure a single word, as we both stare at each other. It’s been fifteen years since I saw him last, and now he was here, and for a moment I thought I might be dreaming as I had so many times before.

“Danny,” I finally manage to eke out. Slowly, I rise from my seat, my legs feeling like Jell-O beneath me and my heart beating in my chest like a caged gorilla.

Daniel takes a step towards me, grabbing my hand in his, as if there hadn’t been what felt like a chasm of a lifetime between us, “Maddie. She told me I might find you out here.”

I take a step back, ripping my hand away. “Who’s she?”

He reaches into his back pocket, retrieves a folded piece of paper, and hands it to me. Reluctantly, I take it, and just as I begin to unfold it, I immediately recognize my grandmother’s handwriting. My hand flies up to my mouth, and tears burn my eyes, threatening to turn me into a human water fountain all over again. My grandma wrote him a letter.

Daniel,

First, I want to say thank you. Thank you for taking the time for me these past twenty years. I know we are not family by blood, but you were like a grandson to me. I’m so happy to have met you all those years ago when you moved here. Just a scared boy all alone, trying to find your way in life. You young kids think you can just leave home and do it by yourself, but that’s not true. You always need family. I’m glad I could be yours.

I wish things had worked for you and Madeline at the time, but you were too different and desired to lead separate lives. You’d left the town you grew up in to seek something new, and she never had. We both know, had she stayed, there would have always been a question of “What if?”, and that never ends well. Of course, when the timing could have been right, other relationships in your lives made you both happy. And I’m glad you both got to experience life without each other, because now you have the answers.

Now, my sweet Maddie would never come crawling back because she believes that everything happens for a reason. But I know my granddaughter better than anyone, and she misses you deeply. Although she claims to love her life in Florida, I know she’s always wondered what would have happened had she stayed. Every time I talk to her, she always has a question she frames around “Just being curious to see how he’s doing.” Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday-- I know what that means. But I never told her that because she seemed happy. She has a job she loves, a house she’s proud of, and friends she’s made along the way. But ever since Nick left her last year, I know her heart has been calling her to come home. She rings a little more often, asks a little more about the people, and even came to visit twice more than she has in the past fifteen years.

When my time comes, and I know it won’t be long now, I want you to go to her. Don't leave this town, because we both know this is your home. Just watch for her. And, knowing my Madeline, I’d advise you to wait until after my funeral. That would not be the best place to reopen old wounds while trying to heal a new one.

There’ll be a day before the “For Sale” sign is up when a car you don’t recognize sits in my driveway, and then you will know. This town is too small for you not to realize. My guess is she’ll be sitting out back, in our favorite spot. If she isn’t there (but she will be), you will have to find your own way. You’re a smart boy. Just don’t give up after one try. We both know she’s as stubborn as I was.

All my love,

Grandma G.

My hands shake as I hand the letter back to him. My face burns with anger, but the tears won’t stop flowing as I shout, “What am I supposed to do with that? Jump into your arms and run away with you? We have two very different lives. You’re still married, for God’s sake!” My eyes landed on the gold band clinging to his left finger. “And you didn’t even come to her damn funeral,” I add.

“I’m not,” he says, folding the paper and returning it to his pocket. “My wife passed away a couple of years ago. And I was there, but I made sure you wouldn’t see me. I didn’t want to be what you focused on.”

Immediately, I feel as if I’ve been gut-punched. First at the fact that he still knows me well enough to know I would have been distracted by him. And that he has had to endure heartbreak again. I never knew his wife, but I remember feeling glad that he’d finally found love. I moved on pretty quickly after we split, so sure of myself that I made the right decision. But Daniel hung on. For one reason or another, every relationship he had failed, and my grandma always said he looked so sad when they talked about me. As if he always wanted what he couldn’t have-- someone who didn’t love him back. But then he finally met someone he loved just enough to have a life with her. Now she was gone, my grandma was gone, and the woman who broke his heart was here to remind him of all he’d lost.

“Why didn’t my grandma tell me about her passing?” I say out loud, but mostly to myself.

“Maybe she didn’t want you coming back to me out of pity,” He admits.

I scoff at this, slightly offended that he would think I’d do something so low. Although… it hurts to admit that he is probably right. I would have run to him as soon as my relationship with Nick ended, so we could lick our wounds together. Misery does love company, and I’m no stranger to that.

“I’m surprised you didn’t at least hear about it, though. This town loves to talk.” Daniel laughs at this in a disgusted way. He’s always hated gossip and those who partake. But, alas, that is the glory of a small town.

“Well, I haven’t exactly been on social media the past few years. I decided to take some time off because I couldn’t—,” I stop myself before finishing, afraid to bare myself to him and admit that my grandma was right. I did care about him, and I always have. Ever since we broke up, I’ve woken nearly every night to dreams of being in his arms again, then trying to ease myself back to sleep with an ache in my chest that never fully went away.

“You couldn’t what?” He asks.

I take a deep breath and decide that it’s now or never. As much as I hate being vulnerable, I’ve learned enough about myself these past few years to know that I hate my life in Florida more. I hate what it’s become, and I have always wondered what would have happened if I’d never left. “I couldn’t stand to look at you anymore,” I whisper.

Daniel looks hurt by this. His eyebrows knit together, and for the first time since he walked through the back door, I truly look at him. So much about him has changed, and yet he’s exactly what I pictured. The softness of his skin has weathered from the sun, and his chestnut-colored hair is now speckled with gray. But his eyes are still his eyes—burning the brightest blue like they had been made from the waters of the Tenerife Sea. They are exactly as I remember.

After a long moment of just staring at each other, Daniel finally spoke, “I know exactly what you mean, no matter how much that hurts to hear. I secretly hoped you were watching me from afar all these years. Wondering about me.”

This time, I was the one to step close and take his hand. “I have never stopped wondering. I did watch you. I checked your social media daily and hid in the bathroom from Nick, typing and deleting messages I wanted to send to you. I went to bed each night filled with guilt that I knew I would be dreaming of you and be sad when I awoke.” I looked up at him, and his eyes met mine. My heart, still pounding in my chest, and the feeling of a million tiny butterflies flapping their wings in my stomach, filled me with so much yearning. “I had to let you go, because if I didn’t, I would have never let myself be happy. You consume my waking thoughts and haunt me in my dreams.”

Daniel wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me toward him as he placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head so our lips were almost touching, but not quite. It felt as if there were a magnet on my lips, making them tingle and desperate to meet their other half. “I wish you had told me. I wish you had come to me sooner,” He whispers.

“I was afraid,” Tears prick at my eyes again, but this time with happiness. “But the scariest things I could have ever imagined have already happened. I was left, I lost my grandma, and I’ve faced the greatest love of my life. I didn’t know what to expect, so I never tried.”

“Madeline Gallagher, I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’m so glad you’re here, despite why you’re here.”

“Everything happens for a reason, I suppose,” I say with a smile, tasting the saltwater on my tongue.

“I’m glad we are the reason,” Daniel says, and then kisses me softly. Thankfully, this time, I’m not dreaming.