Page 15 of The Only Thing That's Real
“I wouldn’t miss Mom’s party. Besides, I want to check on Pops and spend time with my niece and nephew. It’s good timing. I could use the break.”
“What’s it like being on tour with the biggest rock band of our time?” she asks as she finishes the latte she’s making and yells out the name of the older gentleman who’d ordered it. No matter how much time passes, working in my sister’s coffee shop, The HollowCafe, is like riding a bike.
“A lot less exciting than you would imagine. Except for Knox and Trevor, they all have wives and kids, so there’s no partying, no groupies going back to the bus or the hotels. If not for their celebrity friends that stop by each show, it’d be pretty boring.”
“Shut up. You want me to believe Knox McKinnon doesn’t have a ho in every area code?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
And trust me, I would notice.
“Well, that’s unexpected. The media would sure like us to believe differently.”
As I ring up the next customer, I consider her last comment. She’s right. My time around Knox has been a complete 180 to what I expected. I’m sure if I searched his name on my phone right now it would say he was getting laid by the latestit girlor plastered at some club. Yet, I’ve barely seen him drink. Haven’t seen a single woman with him after the show, on the bus or at the hotel. Sure, there are always groupies of some sort waiting to party after every show, but he doesn’t give them the time of day.
“Don’t believe everything you read.”
“Noted.”
We get back to our companionable process of me taking the orders and dishing up pastries while she makes the drinks, enjoying my time with her while I can.
“Pops, you sure you don’t want to come to the party? I’d be happy to take you and bring you back whenever you’re ready.”
“Nah, I don’t want to be a hassle.”
“You could never be a hassle. I would be happy to bring you as my date tonight.”
“You just leave me right where I am. Seeing your face is all this old man needed.” He squeezes my hand that has been holding his since I got here.
I can’t bring myself to let go.
He’s in a good place today, with his dementia taking a backseat during my visit. When I walked into his room, his eyes lit up and he said my name, causing my emotions to get the better of me. The result was a tearful hug hello and a full, peaceful heart. He sang the same few lines about Frank Sinatra’s “New York”, he croons every time he sees me since I moved to the city.
Pops is always singing or whistling. Besides karaoke maybe once a year, he’s the only person I’ve ever sung with. I didn’t even sing in school performances. I mouthed the words to every song.
Insecurity has the damnedest effects.
This is the first time I’ve been home since we moved my grandfather into the assisted living facility. It’s nice; the staff seem kind and Pop’s suite has a living area and a sleeping area. He has everything he needs, but it’s still not home.
Without grandma, home would never be home to him again. They were together for over sixty years, and he hasn’t been the same since losing her. Watching him decline has been heartbreaking. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for my family who live here, watching it happen before their eyes. There are times the guilt of leaving my sister to deal with all our family issues weighs me down, but Pops got it. He knew the truth about my home life, and he was a lifeline for me,encouraging me to leave and forge my own path. Some of my published articles are framed and hung on the walls here in his new home. My grandparents always made sure I felt loved. Always told me how proud of me they were. This is why I didn’t give paying for Pop’s care a second thought. It was a no-brainer.
“Well, I’m gonna miss you. I’m sorry I don’t see you nearly enough.”
He lifts my hand currently in his to his heart. “Little lady, you’re always in here. Don’t ever feel bad for spreading your wings to fly. Your grandma and I love hearing about all of your adventures. We love seeing you so happy.”
I don’t miss that he mentions grandma in the present tense. The sentiment overrides his slip up. My tears are back. I already miss him.
“Thanks, Pops.”
“Don’t let that angry son of mine tell you any different. You deserve to be happy, and if that means you have to live far away from here, so be it.”
“I love you,” I say, wrapping my arms around him.
“I love you to the moon and back, sweetheart.”
Much too soon, I release him and head for the door. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Not unless I see you first,” he says, as he always does.
