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Pops’s senior community was located at the highest point of the key. Fifteen feet above sea level wasn’t much to brag about, but in case of flooding from a hurricane, it was better than nothing. Besides, he enjoyed sitting out on his screened-in porch and watching the golfers as they went by in their carts.
“Who wants ice cream?” I hollered, letting myself into his condominium with the key he’d given me when we moved him in. When he didn’t respond, I looked out at the back porch.
He was sitting in his no-gravity chair, looking out at the golf course. From how still he was, he could have been asleep. I put the ice cream in the freezer and went outside. At the sound of the glass slider, he turned in my direction, but he hadn’t been asleep. He looked sad.
“Pops? Is everything okay?” Alarm stole through me. I’d spent quite a few days and nights with him when he’d been in the hospital ten years ago. I wouldn’t wish that nightmare of anxiety on anyone. I was always on edge about a relapse or a repeat.
“I’m okay, son,” he said on a sigh that sounded anything but okay. “Just thinking.”
I sat on the more uncomfortable chair next to him. “Oh no, this sounds like trouble. I already told you going up to Tampa for Gasparilla is out of the question.”
Pops cracked a smile at my mention of the yearly pirate festival. “But with my peg leg, I’d be the best damn pirate on the East Coast.”
“What’s actually got you troubled?” I said after a few minutes of us just staring out at the expanse of green lawn. Not much to see this time of year. No one liked to golf eighteen holes in a sauna.
“You know what today is?”
I wracked my brain and came up empty.
“It’s my wedding anniversary to your mom.” Pops sighed, the sound laced with years of grieving over his true love.
I nudged his good knee with mine. “Think she’d still be married to you?”
Mom had passed away when I was a kid, but Pops had kept her memory alive with stories and pictures he was always quick to pull out. I hadn’t gotten her red hair, but he told me my eyes were her spitting image. My vague memories of Mom didn’t include those tiny details. Just a feeling of warmth, safety, home.
Pops guffawed like I knew he would. “She’d have no choice. I’d never let her go. I’d get on my good knee and beg if I had to.”
I stood. “How about I dish us up some ice cream and then you can show me your wedding photos?” I’d seen them so many times I knew the order of each photo in the album, but Pops always seemed happier after looking at them. “And let’s go inside where there’s air-conditioning. I’m sweating out here.”
Pops shifted the leg portion of the chair down and pushed to standing. I wanted to reach down and help him, but he didn’t like when I did that. Said he was too young to need any help just getting out of a chair. He’d be right except for the fact that he was missing one leg from the knee down.
“Sounds good, son. But none of that low-fat shit.”
I snorted, opening the door. “I wouldn’t dare. I still have nightmares about you throwing your bowl at my head when I tried that before.”
Pops followed me inside and had a seat at the tiny table between the kitchen and the living room. I’d tried to move him into a bigger house, but he said he didn’t want to feel lonely with all that square footage and just him.
“I seem to recall you having panties thrown at your head back in your heyday, superstar.”
I shook my head, getting the bowls out of the cupboard and scooping up chocolate for me and moose track for Pops. “Those days are long gone. Now it’s just Irene who flirts with me.”
“Goddamn Irene. She’s as bad as Maeve. May she rest in peace.” Pops shimmied his shoulders when I set the bowl in front of him. The man loved his ice cream. “You know, son, I wish you’d find a wife.”
I stumbled over the edge of the rug beneath his table. Pulling the chair out across from him, I had a seat. “What? Where is this coming from?”
“I didn’t have her for long, but the time I did have with your mom was worth it. She gave me you and she opened my heart. That kind of love changes a person. You should find true love too.”
I swallowed the spoonful of chocolate that had turned to glue at the mention of getting married. “Oh sure, Pops. I’ll just go out to Winn Dixie and pick up true love.”
Pops smiled around a huge bite of his ice cream. “Don’t be silly. At least go to Publix.”
I snorted. “Will I find Ms. Perfect in line for a PubSub?”
“You never know. If she likes sausage, that’s a good sign.”
The laughter was automatic. Pops kept eating and I hoped he’d drop the subject. I’d have to google becoming more sentimental. Was that a side effect of dementia?
“I know you don’t take me seriously,” Pops said, pushing away his empty bowl. “But I stand by what I said. You should experience true love at least once in your life, Dec. You deserve to know what it feels like. How it changes you. Makes you a better man.”
