by Lara Swann
I ask myself the questions again, before shutting them down firmly. I’ve already decided. I’m doing this.
I reach for the cup of coffee that’s still hot enough to warm my shaking hands - something I’d prepared deliberately - and clasp it to me as I let my eyes shut for a moment, inhaling the reassuring earthy scent of it.
Ten years. It’s been ten years.
I’ve been preparing for this moment for the last two days.
Even so, seeing him…seeing Kenneth…still managed to rock me to my core.
He’s all grown up now. Somehow, I think when I pictured this meeting, I still saw the smiling youth from my memory.
But no…he’s different.
The good looks and cheeky grin of the boy I knew never could have prepared me for the way he looks now - as a man. The weight and gravitas to him - the weathered skin and creases around his eyes that give him the presence of a hardened businessman. Serious and unyielding.
Yes, he’s definitely changed. He’s harder now, I guess. Stronger, with a depth that no eighteen year old could ever claim.
I could have guessed all that, of course - hell, I think I did. It’s not like I expected him to be eighteen. But I don’t think I realized how striking it would be.
I was so damn sure that the cocky teenage boy wouldn’t get under my skin again…I didn’t stop to think that the man might. My stomach wasn’t supposed to flutter when I saw him. I wasn’t supposed to react.
It’s been ten years - and I think part of me still resents him. Not for leaving me, not anymore - I got over that teenage angst years ago - but for the way it crushed me when he did. Everything I’d finally started believing in…
So why the hell did I get that feeling again?
Damn it.
I shake my head and take a small sip of coffee, telling myself it was just the shock of seeing him.
And that brief moment he suggested we catch up - when the light that came into his eyes changed everything about his expression, all the maturity shifting to give hints of the boyish nature I remembered.
That’s all it was. Memory. An instinctive response that’s somehow stayed with me over all this time.
I’ll get over it.
He was an asshole all those years ago, and from what I’ve heard here, not much has changed. But I decided I could deal with that when the head of HR, Mr. Adams, offered me this promotion. Kenneth wouldn’t be the first asshole I’ve worked for.
As for the rest…well. None of it matters now.
A few days of working together should be all I need for my body to sort out its sudden confusion.
I can do this. I can.
And I want this job.
With that in mind, I finally open my eyes and put down the cup of coffee, noting with satisfaction that my hands have stopped shaking.
See? You’ll be fine.
I turn my attention back to the stack of paperwork in front of me, my attention flicking between everything I need to sort through and the computer in front of me that provides access to Kenneth’s emails and calendar.
The activity there is a damn sight more than Ms. Jacobs in Product Design, and I start to hope that maybe with this promotion, I won’t be quite so bored.
Even as I start to pull the files toward me, my mind flicks defiantly back to that brief meeting with Kenneth.
Yes, I have a feeling boredom is going to be the least of my worries in this new role.
* * *
The day passes quickly and I’m surprised to see Kenneth leave promptly at five o’clock. From everything I’ve heard, he usually works until late into the night - and expects those around him to do the same.
He gives me a brief nod as he walks briskly toward the elevator, but I don’t think he really sees me.
That’s a welcome relief from his repeated attempt to catch up with me when we met earlier and I start hoping that the way I handled that meeting was enough to steer this working relationship onto exactly the ground I want - strictly professional.
We might have known each other once, but I have no interest in hearing all about what happened in Kenneth’s life after high school. I mean, the size of this business is enough to give me a pretty good idea - I guess he did achieve everything he set out to, after all - but I don’t need the details.
In fact, I’ve barely seen him at all today. I don’t expect that to be typical - if I’m doing my job well, I’ll be informing him of everything he needs to know regularly - but he just got back from a business trip and I’d already left him with notes on everything urgent he needed to catch up on. And he left early, which I probably find more interesting than I should.
Maybe he’s meeting someone. A business meeting. No, you’d know about that. Personal then. Yes, that’s it, personal.
I quickly shut down the direction of that thought. I don’t need to be thinking about his personal life - it’s really none of my business and I’d rather keep it that way.
I finish off my review of everything on Kenneth’s agenda tomorrow and the notes I’ve made about each item in preparation for the five minute run through I’ve put into his diary for first thing in the morning, then look around and hesitate. I had expected to work much later tonight, but…well…if he’s already left…
It’s my first day in this role and it goes against every instinct to leave earlier than I’d planned to, but if I’m going to be finishing late more often than not, surely I should make the most of this opportunity?
It’s not like I can do much more without Kenneth here anyway.
And I could see Gramps.
That’s the thought that finally decides me.
I file the last of the items on my desk, locking them away out of habit, even if they’re relatively unimportant and are just going to come out again tomorrow morning.
Then I pack up my bag and leave the office with a slight bounce in my step, the thought of seeing my grandfather lightening the strange mood seeing Kenneth earlier has put me in.
When I get to the care home, the receptionist - Angela - gives me a warm smile.
“Good timing, hun. Thomas has just finished dinner.”
I smile back at her, my stomach rumbling slightly as it reminds me I haven’t had dinner yet, but I ignore it.
“Great - do you know where he is?”
“Last I saw he was terrorizing Janet in the TV room.”
I grin at her, my heart lifting in the same way it does whenever I come here, and I give her a little wave as I set off in that direction.
The hallway is light and airy, with plush carpets and walls decorated haphazardly with a mixture of dramatic landscapes, strange looking modern geometric shapes and children’s drawings. Quirky, sure, but that suits Gramps perfectly - there’s more personality in one hallway here than the entirety of half the disinfectant-smelling, sterile care homes I looked at.
It’s expensive, enough that I haven’t exactly told Gramps that his savings aren’t covering all of it, but it’s worth every bit of scrimping I’m doing to see the nurses’ warm expressions the moment I come in here.
There are just too many horror stories about what might be going on in those places to consider letting him go anywhere else. Hell, even here, I start panicking slightly if I haven’t been in to visit for a couple of days.
It’s not like I’m struggling too much, either - moving back into Gramps’ old house has helped and with this promotion…yeah, I’m doing fine. Just so long as I can continue to afford this, that’s all that matters.
“Hey, Gramps!” I call out, to the obvious disapproval of a couple of the ladies sat watching a soap opera at the front of the room. “Sorry.”
He looks up toward me and the familiar grin spreads across his face as he tries to turn the wheelchair around.
The larger nurse he was talking to goes to help immediately, pushing him over to me and steadfastly ignoring the way he scowls up at her. That’s the other thing I like about this place - the staff are just as stubborn as my old grandfather.
“My new boss left early, so I figured I could get away with doing the same.” I say with a smile, leaning down to give him a kiss.
“I’ll leave you both to it.” Janet smiles at us both and starts walking away.
Gramps looks after her for a moment, then sends a mock-glare in my direction. “I thought you weren’t coming in…now look what you did, getting in the way of my flirting. She was really interested, you know.”
“Gramps!” I say, rolling my eyes at him. “Just think what Grandma would say.”
“She’d tell me I had good taste, that’s what she’d say, and mind you—”
“Shhh!”
The two ladies at the front turn around and glare at us - and I guiltily take the handles of the wheelchair, spinning Gramps around so he’s facing the door and holding one hand up apologetically.
“C’mon, Gramps, how about we go cause a disturbance somewhere else?”
“Like the damn inquisition, those two.” He grumbles as I start wheeling him out. “Can’t get a moment’s peace.”
I can’t help the small smile to myself. I’m pretty sure they feel exactly the same way about us right now.
“Shall we go out into the gardens? Is the old chess board still out there?”
From this angle I can’t see his expression, but I’m pretty sure from the way he shifts eagerly in the chair he’s positively gleaming at the suggestion.
“Ooh, yes, let’s do that. I was trading tactics with Mark the other week - he’s quite good, you know, had me on the ropes for a little while. I can teach you a few more things.”
“Uhuh.”
Gramps’s idea of teaching me chess is to beat me thoroughly and then go back and explain every slightest mistake I made and just how he exploited it. I’ve never been particularly good and he’s always been more than a little gleeful about it, but now that I’m not a kid that doesn’t bother me anymore - it’s just another thing we do together, and that’s good enough for me.
We get out into the garden and I steer us over to the table with the chess board set out on it.
“I can do this myself, you know.” He points out.
“I know, but isn’t it nice to have a break while I’m here?”
He grunts, but I don’t think he quite agrees. We get to the table before it can turn into a full-blown argument and I move one of the chairs to wheel him into place.
When I’m finally sitting opposite him, I don’t miss the scrutinizing glance he gives me.
“So he’s not as much of a demon as you thought, this boss of yours?”
I shrug, not quite looking at him as I set up the chess game. The last thing I want to talk about right now is Kenneth.
“It’s only been a day, Gramps, it’s too early to tell yet.”
“Hmm…” He shakes his head. “Well I’m glad they had the sense to give you that promotion but it’s still nothing on the job you had out in St. Louis, Jessie. They’re still going to take you back there anytime you want, right?”
“That’s what they said.” I say, for what feels like the hundredth time.
Not that I’ve asked them in the last three months since I left. It was unexpected enough that my old boss, Charlie, said it at all. I don’t think it’s exactly professional to double-check every month that the offer still exists.
“And as soon as I get out of here, you’ll go right back, won’t you?”
“Mhm.” I make an agreeing noise, without actually agreeing.
I know it bothers him that I moved back to Springfield when he had his stroke and the last thing I want is for him to feel like he’s keeping me here, or that I’m missing out because of it. I don’t mind - really. If anything, it’s nice to be able to see him all the time now - I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that.
Sure, the secretary work I picked up at ExVenture was a bit of a disappointment compared to my events coordination role in St. Louis, but I’m hoping this new role will fill some of what I’ve missed. It will certainly be far more busy - and providing that kind of assistance to a CEO should give me some interesting things to manage. It definitely hits on the same penchant for organization that I loved about events coordination, even if it has a little less flare and glamour to it.
“Good. Won’t be long now, Jessie.” He says, taking his attention away from me and starting to focus on the chess pieces in front of him.
I nod, but I don’t say anything. I know how hard he’s working at the physiotherapy and the doctors did say that it would be possible to recover from the affects of the stroke, but even so…I’m not sure. Gramps’s initial determination was the same thing that made him insist he could manage at home despite the weakened right leg - until he fell over and broke his hip, too. Then I refused to hear anything else about it.
The only constants I’ve ever had in my life have been him and Grandma, and with her gone the last five years…I’m going to make sure he’s okay, even if he refuses to care about it himself. The idea of something going wrong and losing him…
I shake it off. That’s the last thing I want to be thinking about - and I look up at him, bright eyed and grinning with anticipation of the game we’re about to play, to reassure myself that he’s as lively as he’s always been.
“I love you, Gramps.”
The words come unbidden and he looks up at me, something in his expression softening as he holds out his better left hand to me.
“I love you too, Jessie.” He gives me one of those laughing-smiles I’ve known for what feels like forever. “Doesn’t mean I’m going easy on you, though.”
I laugh, trying to hold back the tears that want to threaten at the edges of my eyes.
I’m not going to lose this. I won’t.
I squeeze his hand, then spend most of the game watching and appreciating the old man in front of me, instead of paying the slightest attention to the moves I’m making.
He beats me quickly - but the explanation afterward seems to take forever. Even then, I don’t mind. These days, I treasure every moment we have together.
“Shall we play another?” He asks, after totally confusing me with a roundabout explanation of a move he had set up about ten turns before to check-mate me.
My stomach gives a loud, decisive rumble before I can answer and his eyes narrow.
“Didn’t you eat before coming down here?”
I shake my head.
“What are you thinking, girl? Didn’t I teach you better than that?”
“I wanted to see you.” I say, with a small smile, and he grumbles a little.
“Well, you’ve seen me. Now get on with you and take care of yourself for once.” He shakes his head. “I’ve got all these people running around making sure I’m okay - you need some of them, that’s what you need, Jessie.”
“Mhm.” I smile softly, but I take the hint and lean forward. “Okay, Gramps. I’ll come again as soon as I can, alright?”
“Not if you need to be working. If you can’t make it, then don’t.” He shakes his head. “I can look after myself, you know. I was doing that just fine until you got all bossy about it.”
“You were doing it just fine until you got old, Gramps. Don’t blame me.”
He scowls, but then he laughs and with a little bit of effort pushing off from the table and the wheelchair, he stands up to hug me goodbye. My heart lurches as he shifts unsteadily on his feet, wavering a little, and I’m a few seconds from darting forward to support him - but I know exactly what he’d say to that.
Frowning, he takes a moment to steady himself - and then he looks up at me with a grin.
“See? I’ll be running around in no time.”
I laugh, leaning forward to hug him tight to me. His body is more frail and bony than I like, some part of my mind remembering when it was thick and solid and all-encompassing, but it’s no worse than it has been for the last few
months.
“I’ll pay good money to see that.” I tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before carefully stepping back, letting him have enough room to hold onto something else.
“Go on.” He says, as he sees me obviously waiting for him to settle back down. “I’m going off to see where that nurse got to…go and find your dinner! And come back to tell me about this new job at the weekend - I don’t want to see you before!”
I smile at him, amused. We both know I’ll be coming back before then.
But I give him half of what he wants and leave without insisting on supervising him getting back down into his chair. I’m just grateful there are enough people working here that I figure someone is probably watching.
By the time I start up the car and head home, my body is definitely complaining at the late dinner - but my heart feels a little lighter.
I made the right decision coming back here.
Of course, there was never any other choice.
Even if it means I have to deal with Kenneth Stark on a daily basis.
That thought makes me sigh again, but it doesn’t feel nearly as unsettling as it did before I went to see Gramps. That always puts life into perspective for me.
When I open the door of his house and flick on the light switch, a dark black shadow comes racing toward me.
Meeoooow!
I laugh as I shut the door, trying not to trip over the writhing form in between my legs.
Meeoow.
“Okay, okay.” I murmur. “I know I’m late, fluffball, but I haven’t had dinner either. You don’t see me complaining about it.”
Meeoow!
“Right, of course. I forgot that you’re much more important than me, Pan.”
I give in, reaching down to scratch at the itchy spot on his neck before making my way to the kitchen while trying to avoid the cat around my legs.
“You know, this would go faster if you didn’t try to trip me up the whole time.” I murmur, but I’m smiling.
I get the packet of cat food out first, squeezing it into his bowl and mashing it up for him before I tend to myself and the leftover bowl of pasta in the fridge. I watch our obviously-starving cat with amusement until the microwave oven pings and then I take the bowl through into the living room.