The Summer I Learned to Dive (4 page)

“Thank you,” I said. I felt my stomach grumble. It had been a while since I had eaten. I took a large bite of the sandwich, finishing it within the first few bites. I was ravenous.

“What brings you here after all this time?” she asked, standing in front of the sink, her back to me. She turned the faucet on and poured water in a tea kettle. She placed the tea kettle on the stove and ambled over to the table, sitting down and facing me.

“It’s a long story,” I began.

“Well, I’d like to hear it.” She patted my hand. She was very touchy, unlike my mother, and I liked it. 

“I didn’t know you were trying to contact me all this time. I just found out yesterday,” I said. I found myself crying again. She moved over to me consoling me, squeezing me tightly on the shoulder.

“I always hoped that was the case that you wanted to know us. Your mama doesn’t like us very much. I figured her feelings about us had influenced yours,” she said and frowned.

“They didn’t. If I had known,” I started.

“Shh, it’s okay honey. I understand. I’m just glad you’re here now,” she said smiling at me. The tea kettle whistled and she stood up to take it off the stove. She poured it into a tea pot, adding two large tea bags and more than a cup of sugar.  

“I would have written you or called you. I believed you didn’t want anything to do with me.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Why didn’t you try calling me?” I asked, looking at her desperately.

She frowned again. “We did many times,” she answered. “But after several attempts, your mama changed her phone number to unlisted. The last time we talked to her was years ago and she told me in no uncertain terms to leave you alone.” She took a deep breath. “Of course that didn’t stop us from sending you cards in the mail.”

*************

The phone rang. I ran to get the phone, hoping to answer it before my mom could.

“Hello,” I said, my voice high pitched and youthful.

“Finley,” the woman had said.

“Finn,” I corrected her with a subtle lisp, my two front baby teeth missing.

“Finn. It’s your Nana,” she had said.

“Nana?” I said confused.

“I’m your grandmother and love you very much. Are you having a good Christmas?”

“Yes,” I said and nodded, forgetting that she could not see me through the phone.

“Finn, who are you talking to?” my mother asked.

“Nana,” I answered.

“Give me that,” my mother said, grabbing the phone from my hand.“Don’t call us again,” she said before hanging up the phone.

********************

She handed me a rose-colored mug. I held the handle, it was still very hot. I placed the cup on the table and blew into it hoping to cool the tea. I took a sip. Nana had added evaporated milk, which made it sweet and delicious almost like liquid candy.

“I don’t know why she didn’t want me to have anything to do with you and my grandfather.” It should have felt strange saying the word “grandfather,” but it seemed to come out naturally, as if I had known them all of my life.

She took a deep breath and grinned. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Me, too.” I smiled, feeling a sense of peace, like I was at home.

We sat at the table talking for hours. I learned that my grandparents owned Lilly’s Diner. It was one of the few restaurants in town and the only one within miles, mostly frequented by locals and tourists driving on a country road for a weekend drive. I discovered that Nana and I shared a love for books and reading. Her library put mine to shame. She had her own room filled with bookshelves that were stacked with books that she had read over the years. I learned that I was named after my great-grandmother and that she was my dad’s favorite grandparent. He had named me after much debate with my mother who had wanted to call me Tallulah. Thankfully, my father won that argument. The years of separation didn’t impact my ability to converse so easily with her. I felt like I had known her my entire life.

“I don’t understand why my mother kept me from you,” I said, shaking my head.

She placed her hand under my chin and rubbed it gently with her fingers. “Your mama didn’t handle things well once your dad was gone. There was a lot of hurt and blame and,” she sighed heavily, “unfortunately, she thought it best that we not be a part of your life—a decision your grandfather and I’ll never understand.” Her forehead creased, her facial expression thoughtful. “Fortunately,” she smiled at me, “you’re here now and we can get to know each other. Tell me more about you. I want to hear more about you, what you want and hope for,” she said, nudging me, her voice encouraging.

I smiled at her and began talking, telling her about myself, so we could connect the sixteen years of separation.

It was later in the evening when my grandfather arrived. I was so exhausted that I went to bed early before I had the chance to meet him. Once I went to bed, however, I couldn’t sleep. I was too wired from all of the day’s events. I lay awake in my father’s bed in his old room. It felt strange lying there. I knew very little about him. My mother didn’t say much. From what I could see, nothing had changed in this room since he lived in it. Trophies and a few books filled the shelves. Framed photos of him in little league uniforms stood on one shelf. A guitar sat in its case against the wall, collecting dust. An odd but stunning abstract painting, probably painted by my dad, hung on one wall. Posters of old rock bands were hung on another.  On his desk a large framed photograph stood alone. It was a picture of my dad holding me when I was a baby. It was the first photo I’ve ever seen of my dad and I and I couldn’t stop staring at it. Mom didn’t have any of the two of us together at home. I never knew that any existed. I picked it up and held it close to me, scrutinizing it, bit by bit, piece by piece. I studied his face. I saw the resemblance; his reddish hair, his green eyes. He couldn’t have been older than 21 or 22 in the picture, but he appeared older, his eyes tired, dark circles shadowing underneath. A few wrinkles creased around them. His smile was broad and genuine. He held me in his arms, his eyes on me. I looked at my face, innocent and full of wonder, young and impressionable, safe in my dad’s arms.

I heard the door open downstairs. His footsteps were loud and heavy; his voice even louder and very husky. My grandfather spoke a decibel above most people. He had a strong southern accent, more pronounced than my grandmother’s. They talked, but I only captured a glimpse of the conversation.

“Why do you think she’s here now Lilly?”

“Because she just found out about us. You know Hillary didn’t want her to have anything to do with us,” she whispered loudly. “She’s real smart Charlie. She was top in her class. She’s very inquisitive and asked a lot of questions about Pete.”

“What’d you tell her?” he asked.

“That the day she was born was the happiest day in his life,” she replied.

He took a deep breath. “I still don’t understand why she’s here now. Is she in some type of trouble? Does she want money?”

I rolled my eyes at his remark. I couldn’t believe he would even think these things about me.

“No, Charlie. You’re being ridiculous. Wait till you meet her. She reminds me a lot of you.”

“Humph,” my grandfather muttered skeptically. “We’ll just wait and see about that.”

Chapter 4

I woke up early the next morning. The sun’s bright rays shined through the window earlier than I was used to. From the sounds of things, my grandparents had been up for a while. Dishes clanked. I heard them moving around downstairs. The floors creaked. My grandfather’s thunderous footsteps made the house feel like it was shaking. Their voices carried upstairs, allowing me to hear what they were saying. They were discussing me again.

“Do you think we should wake her?” he asked.

“Let her rest. She rode on a bus all the way from Tampa, Charlie. She’s exhausted,” Nana said.

“Well she can’t sleep all day either,” he grumbled.

I slowly got out of bed and put on a t-shirt and shorts, timidly walking downstairs toward the kitchen. Nervously, I walked in the kitchen, apprehensive about my grandfather’s reception of me. He intimidated me, and I hadn’t even met him yet. He sat at the breakfast table, drinking coffee. He was enormous, definitely over six feet tall. His hair was full and stark white. His face was clean shaven, but covered with wrinkles. Unlike Nana, he looked his age.  He had green eyes like mine and the same small rounded nose.

“Good morning,” I said, almost tip toeing precariously. I grabbed a cup off of the mug rack and poured myself a cup of coffee. The kitchen smelled good. Instantly, my mouth watered.

“Good morning, Finley,” he said. He continued to drink his coffee and eyed me skeptically. I felt his stare.

“Good morning, Grandfather.” It felt strange and too formal. I didn’t know if I should extend my hand, curtsy or try to hug him. I settled on shaking his hand. It was large and the size of both of mine. His skin was rough, not smooth like Nana’s.  He shook my hand firmly, still looking at me. He was appraising me. My hand felt trapped in his firm grip.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t you sit down?” he ordered more than asked.

I obeyed him and sat down immediately. I sipped on my black coffee. It was strong and bitter, not like the tea Nana had made yesterday. He saw the look of disgust on my face.

“The cream and sugar are right here.” He pointed to them.

His one index finger was almost the size of my hand. I added lots of sugar and cream to the coffee, hoping to make it as sweet as the tea.

“So, Finley, what makes you come to us now?” he asked, looking directly into my eyes. I felt like cowering under the table.

I gulped. “I.... I just learned about you and Nana.” My grandmother had told me she wanted to be called “Nana” instead of Grandma.

“And you thought you’d come all the way up here to meet us unannounced,” he said incredulously, his eyebrow arched.

“Yes. I would have called but it all happened so fast.” I was talking fast because I was nervous. I looked to Nana for help. I chewed on my nails.

He didn’t say anything. He picked up the newspaper and started to read it, blocking me from his view. I was unsure of how to read his behavior.

“I wanted to get to know you both since we had been separated for so long,” I said. I couldn’t stop talking. “My mother kept you from me for so long and I was curious about you both. I just decided to come up here the moment I learned that you had been trying to be a part of my life.” I took a deep breath, needing the air.

He lowered the newspaper. “Well, we’re curious about you, too. It’s been a long time since we have seen you. Matter of fact, I think it’s been sixteen years.” He scratched his chin. “I hope we’re getting the full story here.” He stood up. I instantly felt like a child. He was a giant. “You’re not in some type of trouble are you?” he asked, standing over me.

I gulped again. “No,” I whispered. He left the kitchen, and I instantly felt relieved. I questioned whether coming here was a mistake. Maybe time can’t heal all wounds?

“Don’t mind your grandfather. He takes a while to warm to people. He’ll warm to you in no time.” Nana smiled, wrapping her arms around me. I looked at her face instantly feeling better, feeling loved. “Finn, have you called your mama yet? She needs to know you’re alright.”

“I texted her last night and let her know I was here,” I answered her. I looked toward the front door as my grandfather closed it. “Where’s he going?”

“To run some errands in town. He doesn’t work on Sunday’s and Monday’s. Owning a diner takes a lot of hours and personal time.” She paused for a moment. “You may want to call her,” she said and seeing my uncomfortable expression, changed the subject and asked, “Are you hungry?”

I nodded a definite yes.

“How about some French toast?”

“Sure,” I said. I sat quietly. She could sense what I had on my mind.

“He’s a gentle giant, Finn. You’ll see that soon enough.” She hugged me and then walked away, dipping two slices of bread into egg yolk and then placing them in a frying pan.

Two pieces of toasted bread were stacked neatly on a plate, covered in syrup, whip cream and butter. Not surprisingly, strawberries sat on top of the whipped cream. I devoured it within a matter of minutes.

“For someone so small, you sure do eat a lot.” She laughed, looking at my empty plate.

“It was good.” I smiled. My mother could not cook like this. Breakfast made by her usually consisted of a bowl of cereal or a cup of yogurt. She was not a cook and never aspired to experiment in the kitchen. Most of my meals consisted of casseroles and other bland dishes.

“Well, if you like my cooking, then you’ll love your grandfather’s. We’ll have to eat at the diner sometime.” She took my empty plate and walked over to the sink to rinse it off.

“I can do that,” I said and got up, standing next to her. She handed the plate to me, and I placed it in the dishwasher. I looked out the window and saw a very tan boy about my age. His hair was dark and wavy and he was very muscular, having no problem carrying the heavy ladder. When I looked more closely at him, I saw that he was the same boy I had seen diving at the community pool. I tried not to stare, but couldn’t help myself. I didn’t realize Nana was watching me.

“That’s Jesse.” She smiled, looking out the window. “He works in the diner and is helping your grandfather out by painting the house. It’s long overdue,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to Jesse if you’d like to meet him.” She nudged me, grinning broadly.

“What? No. That’s okay.” My face was turning beet red.

“Nonsense. He’s your age. You should make friends your age while you’re here, especially if you stay a while,” she said almost questioning.

I read her tone and responded, “I’d like to stay as long as you’ll have me.” I smiled at her.

“Good. How about I introduce you to Jesse?” She touched my arm.

“I’m fine.” My face turned even redder. It always did when I was nervous. Having porcelain white skin didn’t help matters.

“Don’t be shy. He’s nice,” she said, and I relented. She grabbed a hold of my hand and we moved toward the front door.

He stood on the ladder chipping paint off of the wooden siding. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of shorts and shoes. His legs were tan and his calves were muscular. Beads of sweat ran down his back.

“Jesse!” Nana shouted from the bottom of the ladder looking up at him.

He immediately stopped scraping and climbed down the ladder, jumping off the last step, standing within a few feet of me. He towered over me, standing at least a foot above me. His wavy brown hair was wet from perspiration.

“This is my granddaughter Finley, I mean Finn.” She smiled at me. “She’s going to stay with us for a while.” She put her arm around me.

“Hi,” he said and extended his hand. His handshake was firm, not weak. The sun shined in his light blue eyes as he squinted at me. His eyes were beautiful and clear, like the Gulf of Mexico.

“Hi,” I said nonchalantly, shaking his hand delicately.

“Well, I’ve got a phone call to make. You two get acquainted,” she said and started toward the house.

I froze in fear. I couldn’t believe she was just going to leave me there to talk with him when I didn’t even know him. She ignored me and kept walking inside the house.

“I didn’t know Charlie and Lilly had a granddaughter,” he said. He smoothed his wet hair out of his face. He looked like a Roman soldier, with his long nose and strong jaw line. His lips were full and a beautiful shade of mauve.

“Yeah. We’re just getting acquainted,” I said. My heart beat rapidly. I wondered if he noticed how nervous I was.

“Where are you visiting from?” he asked, smiling. His teeth were white and perfectly straight. I could feel him looking at me, but I was too nervous to look at him.

Sweat fell down his chest. I didn’t want to look directly at him, especially at his beautifully sculpted muscles.  His accent wasn’t as strong as my grandparents, it was barely noticeable. There was a slight twang, sounding pleasant to my ears. My nerves were shot and I could not think, let alone utter any intelligible words.

“Tampa, Florida,” I said, still moving my head in every direction but his, which I’m sure made me appear disinterested.

“Florida. I’ve never been there.” He paused for a moment. “I hear it’s nice though.” He was trying, and I was failing miserably. This was no surprise to me.

“It is,” I said, wondering what else to say. I had never lived anywhere else and didn’t have anything to compare it to. Talking to boys is difficult for me. Conversing with a gorgeous boy is impossible. I wanted to think of something to say to him, but couldn’t.

Silence. Awkward silence. He looked around, about to say something but stopped himself.

“Well, I’m gonna get back to work. It was nice meeting you, Finn,” he said and climbed back up the ladder, leaving me alone on the grass, pondering how stupid I must have seemed to him.