Page 108 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

I flip to the photos of my grandfather on the beach. “And this is Charlie. It looks like he might have been helping Simon test out his new camera.”

Oliver tilts his head, but he doesn’t reply immediately. I sweep my eyes back over the photo, trying to discern what he’s picking up on. Instead, I’m hit all over again by the expression on my grandfather’s face. It’s so familiar, but I just can’t quite place it.

“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat. “We should probably head out. Simon has pinochle in a couple of hours.”

That makes Oliver chuckle. “I look forward to the day when hours of card games are the most pressing thing on my schedule.”

I watch him heft the box into his arms, both my heart and libido appreciating the visual.

He offers a mocking grin. “Enjoying the show?”

“So very much.” I press a kiss to his cheek and follow him down the stairs.

Simon and Oliver really seem to hit it off, and it’s almost 12:30 before I realize that Simon’s missed his chance to play cards today.

“I’m so sorry; I lost track of the time!” I apologize.

Simon waves his hand in the air. “Losing track of time is half the point of living. There’ll be plenty of other opportunities to play cards. I’m just enjoying chatting with you young people.”

God, he really is the nicest man.

“So, tell me how things are going at Shoreline,” Simon segues.

I nod, slowly at first, then a few more times with greater conviction. “It’s been tough without Maisie, but we’re managing.”

“What’s ‘managing’ to Ivy would probably be considered ‘thriving’ by just about anyone else,” Oliver teases. “She’s a powerhouse in front of a bookshelf, really.”

I blush. “That’s awfully generous of you,” I reply.

“There’s no question that you were born to do this,” he says quietly. I’m trying to decide if he means work with books or banter with him when I hear Simon chuckle.

“I recognize that look.” Simon inclines his head toward Oliver.

Oliver’s eyes are overflowing with warmth, his lips tipped up into a genuine smile, like the person he’s looking at is the center of his entire universe. And all of that enraptured glow is directed right at me. It’s breathtaking, honestly.

And then, in a world-shattering instant, I realize I recognize that look, too.

I’ve seen that exact expression before; just today, in fact. In a photograph. A photograph of my grandfather. And he was looking at…

Simon smiles. “A look of love if I’ve ever seen one.”

My jaw drops, but I don’t bother to close it. Simon was taking the picture. He’s the person Charlie was looking at. The person Charlie loved.

All of a sudden, pieces that had seemed like they belonged to separate puzzles start to fit together in my mind. “Haven’t you, though?” I ask gently.

Simon appears startled, then understanding settles over his face. “I suppose I have.” He smiles sadly. “But maybe you already knew that?”

Oliver’s eyes are darting back and forth between Simon and me; a puppy watching a televised tennis match in the living room. He looks lost at first, but it takes only a few rallies for comprehension to dawn. “Are you okay?” he mouths to me.

I nod, then address Simon. “Does anyone else know?”

He closes his eyes tightly as if holding back tears, then bobs his head. “Janie. Janie knew.”

My breath is ragged. Janie knew. Of course she did. Because she was there when it all started.

Something’s still not adding up, though. If my grandfather and Simon were in love, why did Charlie marry Eleanor? I know it was virtually impossible to be out in the 1950s, but surely Simon and Charlie could have carried on a relationship behind closed doors.

Unjust though that arrangement would have been, I think it was fairly common for the time. I can’t pretend to understand how hard it would be. Looking at Oliver now, I consider a lifetime of sneaking around for fear of being caught; never being able to hold his hand on the street, proclaiming that he was mine. The air leaves my lungs bit by bit. I shudder to imagine what it would be like to have to hide from a love like that for fear of public scrutiny. Or worse. God, it was so much worse, for so many couples.