Southern Summer

Chapter Eighteen

A cool wind whipped my hair around my face. It was colder than normal for mid-July, but it was a nice break from the heat, I thought. I slipped out of the driver's seat of the Buick and closed the door behind me. I had come alone to the only cemetery in town, because it had been nagging me for the past few days and it was just something I needed to do.

I hadn't seen or talked to any of my friends in Grove Hill for the past few days, not even Aaron. A lot had happened. I'd been angry, both at my father and my mother. I had cried a lot, and blamed myself even though I didn't tell my mother that. She had been upset too, and I actually felt bad for her. We were beginning to grow closer for the first time in my life, and that took some adjusting for me.

I spotted a few headstones with the name Porter, and I headed towards them. My heartbeat quickened as I found the one I had come to see.

Henry Porter

Son, Brother, Husband, Soldier.

May 17, 1945-January 31, 1968

Involuntarily, tears burned in my eyes, and as I blinked they rolled down my cheeks. So this was my grandpa. I kneeled down by the gravestone and traced the letters with my fingers as I took a shaky breath.

"Hi, Grandpa," I said quietly, "It's me Caroline."

My lip quivered as I tried to keep from sobbing.

"A lot has happened the past few days, and I really need someone like you right now because my own dad sucks and I wish I could have known you cause I know I would have loved you so much. And you would have loved my mom so much that maybe she never would have left here and she wouldn't have been hurt by my dad like she was."

I wiped tears off of my face. I knew I was rambling but I didn't care.

"But I guess that wasn't meant to be, and Now I'm Caroline instead of my mom and I really hope I'm living up to what you wanted because sometimes I'm not so sure that I am."

I really cried then. Was I good enough? I had been pretty terrible to my grandmother since I came here, and I wasn't much nicer to my mom at first.

"I'm so sorry I was so mean to Tilly and my mom. I really am. They didn't deserve it and I was so ungrateful. Now I know that I was meant to come down here for a reason. So thank you for bringing me here, Grandpa."

I stayed for awhile longer, until my tears dried and I started to feel cold from the wind. I said goodbye to my grandpa and went back to the Buick.

When I got back to the house, Tilly and my mom were waiting for me.

"How are you darlin'?" my grandma asked when I walked into the kitchen.

I had told them I was going to see Grandpa before I left, and they had both offered to go with me but I refused.

"I feel a lot better," I admitted, and I did. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest.

"I just got off the phone with your father," my mom said quietly.

I turned to her quickly, "You what?" I asked, anger bubbling in my veins.

My mom put of a hand quickly to diffuse the tension, "Just to talk about our stuff," she said quickly, "he said he'd ship it down here for us, if you want, so we don't have to go back there ever."

I pondered this for a moment. It would be nice to never see him again, but then I would be left with things unsaid, and I couldn't do that. Besides, there were other people and other things to get off my chest at home, too.