Heather Burch - One Lavender Ribbon

Pops pointed to the advertisement section. “Well, there’s also a coupon for a one-man kayak rental at Manatee Park. Five bucks off. And I hear the manatees have moved upriver.”

“Pops, I don’t want to go see manatees today.” This was getting old. Every Saturday brought the same conversation. Today, Will just wanted some downtime. From work, from everything. He dropped his fork on his plate. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re trying to get rid of me?”

Pops’s tender cornflower eyes saddened. “I’m not trying to get rid of you.” He slowly settled into the chair, his words so gentle that they shot a bullet of shame through Will’s gut.

He leaned over the table and took the older man by the arm. “I’m just teasing. I mean, if you’ve got some hottie from the senior center coming over or something, I promise to stay out of the way.” He slid the lightbulb from Pops’s hand and moved to the stepladder, readjusting it under the fixture.

A bright red hue materialized on Pops’s cheeks. “I don’t have any hottie.”

Will smiled. How empty would his world be without his grandfather here? Less frustrating perhaps—especially on Saturday mornings—but completely hollow. He changed the light, giving Pops a nod to flip the switch, and returned to his breakfast, completing yet another task that demonstrated the symbiotic relationship the two men shared.

When Pops had come to live with him after his grandmother died, Will questioned the wisdom in his own offer. Being a busy, dedicated bank executive, did he really have time to care for an aging grandfather? Five years later, he couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t include daily chats, playing checkers on the front porch, and fishing in the Gulf of Mexico.

He patted Pops on the shoulder. “What do you want to do today?”

Pops sighed. “I guess we could take the boat out.”

“Did you leave any gas in it?” Will asked, voice flat, but the smile that tugged at his lips melted the accusation.

Pops concentrated on a water ring on the table. “Yeah, I think that sounds fun.” It was their Saturday ritual. Take the boat down the canal and out into the Gulf of Mexico. Most days they’d fish, catch dinner—anything from red snapper to tuna, and return home at dusk. After dinner, they’d sit on the front porch until the stars came out. It was a good life.

Pops knew this. Yet he constantly insisted on shaking up a perfectly good schedule, a perfectly balanced routine, with ideas like hiking and kayaking. Time to end the inquisition, once and for all. “Seriously, Pops. Why do you keep trying to get me to go do things I’m not in the mood to do? This happens every Saturday.”

Pops stopped clearing the dishes and faced him. “Will, you’re thirty. And you spend your weekends with an old man.”

“I happen to like that old man.”

“You’re a good young man.” Pops wagged a finger and pinned him with a sharp glare. “But you are a young man. Since I moved here, you’ve stopped doing so many things you love.”

Will shook his head, but Pops continued. “I know you used to go hiking and kayaking, scuba diving.”

Will grinned, lifting an index finger. “I went scuba diving last month.”

“Yes, and I practically had to force you. You used to go every month.” His face clouded. “I’ve turned you into a geezer.”

Will leaned back and laughed. “That’s absurd.”

“You don’t even go to the gym anymore.” Pops motioned up the stairs. “You put that metal beast thing in your room, and you work out there.”

On the opposite wall, the clock ticked, blinking away moment after moment of time. Precious time. Pops was eighty-one. The death of Will’s grandmother, when she was seventy-five, had been sudden. No warning of the illness that took her in a few short weeks. It had rocked Will’s world. He wouldn’t waste the time he could spend with Pops. He also couldn’t tell his grandfather that.

Pops was philosophical and poetic and would somehow twist it into Will just hiding behind the fear of loss. Pops wasn’t scared to die.

But Will was terrified of losing him.

Will pressed his palms over his eyes and exhaled. “Look, how can I explain this?” Yes, life had changed five years ago, but Will wasn’t a kid anymore. The things that had seemed important to a twenty-five-year-old weren’t important to a thirty-year-old. Now, life had meaning. It had purpose. Still, no real way to explain that without it all coming back to Pops and the time they had together. “Five years ago I was working to get the promotion to executive loan manager.” Within the same week, he’d received the promotion and welcomed Pops as a roommate. “When I got the job, I knew I had to clean out some clutter in my life.”

“The hobbies you had were clutter?” Pops’s voice filled with sadness.

“They’re a distraction,” Will said, hoping Pops believed it. “The job is extremely demanding. Mentally, it’s exhausting. Before I got the promotion, I had a lot of pent-up energy to burn. I don’t have that now. My life had to become more organized, streamlined, to be successful in my new position.”

“You make a convincing argument.” Pops straightened. “But it’s an awfully technical and practical way to look at life. And it doesn’t sound very lively or exciting.”

“Well, everyone can’t lead an exciting life. Some of us just have to work hard, be honest and persistent.” Will did love his work. And some childish things had to be set aside to do his job to the best of his ability.

It was all good. Orderly. No surprises, no shocks. Everyone wanted that kind of stability, that security, right? And Will wanted time. More time to spend with Pops. But the more of a routine Will and Pops developed, the more troubled his grandfather became. Though Pops didn’t say much, Will could sense it. And he wasn’t interested in Pops ruining their unspoken yet carved-in-stone Saturday morning plans.

“Sounds like a rut,” Pops admitted.

“Maybe I like my rut.”

“You know what they say. A rut is just a grave with both ends kicked out.”

“Then it’s not a rut.” Will frowned and tugged at his shirt collar. Honestly, what thirty-year-old man lived like this? None he could think of, but it didn’t matter. He enjoyed his life. There were worse things than losing a few hobbies. Like regret. Yeah, that was a big one. He’d never have to look back and regret how he’d spent his time. “Look, Pops, things are just the way I want them. If they weren’t, I’d make changes.”

The older man watched him through narrowed eyes. “So, if I wasn’t here, you’d still be doing the same things you are now?”

“No, I’d have to fix my own breakfast.”

Pops threw a soft punch into Will’s shoulder. “Funny.” He grew serious again. “It’s not because you’re taking care of me?”

Will laughed. “I think you have that backward. You’re the one who’s taking care of me.”

Pops’s face lit up. “I guess that’s what families do.”

Will stiffened and hoped Pops wouldn’t notice. He tried to swallow the rock lodged in his throat but couldn’t get it down. He rose from the table. That’s what families do. That’s what he did. Certainly what Pops did. Now, Will’s mom and dad? Not so. “I’ll clean up. Why don’t you pack us a couple of sandwiches for the day?”

Pops nodded and pulled the cooler from the pantry. “I heard from your folks. They have to cancel their trip home.”

Will nearly dropped the plate he was carrying to the sink. He spun to face Pops. “Are you kidding?”

Pops looked down. Will could tell his grandfather didn’t want him to see the disappointment.