Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Eh. That’s right.” Grandpa stroked his thinning white hair. “He’s returning to New York soon?”
“Not until June. Apparently.” I stretched my neck from side to side, trying to give off all-done vibes without being rude.
“And you two work together? Same school? All that?” Apparently, my attempt at vibes had failed as miserably as everything else I’d tried this January.
“Yep.”
“I’d say it’s just a pie, Merry.” Grandpa gave me a long, pointed stare. “Give the man his pie. And say you’re sorry.”
“What makes you think I need to apologize?”
“You’re a Winters. We can be rather clueless sometimes.” He gave a humble chuckle. “Your grandma used to call them Winters Moments. And she would have liked your fellow.”
“You think?” I regarded him a bit more closely. He was over eighty now, and while he and my grandmother had been legendary free spirits, we had never overtly discussed whether that extended to me being pansexual.
“Anyone that polite who can eat a stack of pies? Of course.” Grandpa gave a hearty laugh before his tone turned meaningful. “And he looks at you like you’re the Big One.”
We both laughed at the surfer-speak before I sobered. “I miss Grandma.”
“Me too.” Sighing, he gazed into the distance.
“You ever think about…?” I thought better of asking the island’s most popular bachelor over seventy-five anything about his love life. “Never mind.”
“Merry. I’m eighty-three. I do nothing other than think.” He pulled off his glasses, making a show out of polishing them. “And I tell you what, if one of my lady friends looked at me like that boy looks at you, I’d tell your folks they could lease my room.”
“Well, okay then.” I blinked. There was a visual I could do without. And I’d always presumed he hadn’t remarried due to a broken heart. I sat for several long moments before blurting out, “He’s not from around here.”
“Merrick Winters.” Grandpa sat forward, voice as stern as I’d ever heard it. “We all sit on borrowed land.”
“I know. I just meant—” I tried to apologize, but he talked right over my attempts.
“Sixty-some years ago, I arrived from a big city too.”
“I know the story—”
“Do you though? I fought in a war between wars that they didn’t even want to call a war. I came back here after the army let me go. It was the one thing I didn’t hate about the army. Did you know that? That the army let me go? Medical discharge.” He sucked in a breath between his teeth, regarding me through angry eyes.
“Sorry—” I didn’t fully get the word out as he kept right on going.
“Mental health crisis they’d call it these days. I didn’t return to Hawaii to surf and open a shop to catch a trend, have fun, or dodge my real life. I came here because it was the only path forward I could see. Are you going to tell me I should have gone back to Los Angeles instead? Told your grandmother to stay put while I worked in a factory like my father and his father before him…” He trailed off, as angry as I’d ever seen him.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“What upsets me is that you are here today, and you’ll be the third generation to own Silver Surfer someday, and you are only here because people welcomed me. People who didn’t have to. People who probably shouldn’t have. But they did. And do you know what would have happened to me back in the city? Nothing good, I’ll tell you that.”
“Nolan’s not like you.” I wasn't sure why I was protesting, but I hated upsetting Grandpa and didn’t want him to be right that I was being narrow-minded. “You’re the original Silver Surfer. Nolan’s city through and through. His brain runs on subway time. He’ll miss New York before spring even hits. Maybe North Shore life saved you, but it would stifle Nolan in a matter of weeks.”
“Perhaps.” Grandpa used an indifferent tone. “Do you know why I welcome every single person who walks into that store?” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the store where my mother was minding the counter. “I don’t care where our customers are from, the color of their skin, the size of their wallet, or who they take to bed. I welcome them because you never know when your Aloha or Howdy or Hang in there, partner will make a difference.”
“Welcoming someone isn’t the same as dating them,” I said weakly because Grandpa had already clearly won this round, to the point it was a wonder I wasn’t reduced to a few cinders sitting on a deck chair.
“Ah, see, there we are, back to the looks that boy gives you.” Grandpa sighed like I was a disappointment to every Winters to ever pick up a surfboard. “You want to pass on that wave, that’s your own business. But what did I teach you about bailing?”