Sweet Love (NG5)

13 - The Point

"It's losing Pops. I feel off too. Now I have to settle his affairs."

"He took care of most of it didn't he?" By the time he moved into the skilled nursing facility, his clothes were his only possessions.

"There's a box full of things from his drawers. I'm avoiding sorting through it."

"I can take a look."

Her father's eyes soften. "Would you? Most of it's probably junk."

He stood and came back with a paper box, the kind made of sturdy cardboard with a top that fit over it. Kat lifted the lid and on top were napkins with his handwriting. As she looked closer, some were baseball stats, others were IOUs for who knew what. No old guy from the wheelchair brigade would try to collect or offer to pay a debt. It was unclear which way they went, and none were for more than a dollar or two. No one kept valuables at the facility because things went missing. She piled up the napkins, cringing since some looked unclean. Wipe your mouth and write a note. Only Pops!

Underneath was a newspaper clipping from the restaurant opening. Tears formed in her eyes. Pop was always proud of her. She remembered when she won an art ribbon in first grade. Nana and Pop made a big deal about it even though her mother was probably right every kid won one. For years they displayed the picture of her at age six holding up her drawing. An old magnet had held it up on their fridge.

As she shifted through other clippings which had no meaning and receipts for a lot of nothing, she found an old shoebox at the bottom. Carefully she lifted the lid to find photographs. Some were black and white, while others had faded colors. A few were newer like her graduation picture.

"Dad, there are photos."

He walked over. "I didn't know Pop kept them." He picked up an old photo of him as a young boy and turned it over. There were yellowish brown streaks. "These were glued in albums. He must have taken them out."

He sat down and together they sorted through fifty or sixty years of memories. Looking at each, he would stop and comment. His army uniform. My mother pregnant. Some were of her and her cousins. She gasped when she found the photo of her from the old fridge. There were others she remembered from the crowded refrigerator.

When Kat picked up a photo of her grandparents on the beach, she showed it to her father. They both studied the young couple. Nana's sunglasses were so out-of-date they were fashionable again.

She looked at her father. "I don't remember them going to the beach."

He shook his head. "They didn't, but my grandfather, my mother's father, had a cottage in Maine. They spent their honeymoon there."

"What happened to it?"

Seth shrugged. "His business struggled, and he sold it. It couldn't have been worth much back then."

"I bet it would be worth something now. Where in Maine?" She had never been past the Kittery Outlets stores just over the border from New Hampshire, but she had been to Hampton Beach and imagined the Maine shoreline was like that of its southern neighbor.

Seth shrugged and turned the picture over. "I don't think I ever knew. It says the point. The point of what I wonder?"

Kat shrugged. "Maybe Auntie knows." Didn't mothers talk to their daughters about romantic things? Honeymoons were romantic.

"Does it matter? It's a picture on a beach."

She shrugged, but felt like it was important to Nana and Pops's legacies. "Can I keep these?"

Seth shrugged. "Take what you want. If anyone else wants them, we can make copies."

Kat bit her tongue before arguing the copies wouldn't have Nana's handwriting. Mourning Pops had brought back the loss of Nana too. Her grandparents were stereotypical. They broke all her parent's rules when she visited. They dished out a lot of love and fun along with extra dessert, sugar cereal for breakfast, and extra TV time.

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"No, I'll go home and see what Bryce is doing."

She found her mother with a book and hugged her before a tighter hug for her father. With the box in her hand, she headed to her apartment. When she entered, Bryce was stretched out on the sofa asleep. She resisted the urge to wake him.

Instead, she sat on her bed and sorted through the pictures. She put them in rough piles - her father and aunt as kids, her and her cousins, her grandparents before kids which included a picture of Nana pregnant. Kat studied it. Someday she wanted her belly to be round with a baby kicking inside. The restaurant would need to be on a steady keel. She frowned as it felt more like a ship rocking in a storm.

She was most fascinated by her grandparents as a young couple. There were more beach pictures, including one of Pops in the waves. She smiled and wondered why they never took trips to the beach. She turned the wave photo over and there were two initials in faint blue ink, TP. Who was TP? Not Pops, obviously.

She looked at one of Pop at a picnic table with corn on the cob and boiled lobster. On the back, Nana wrote honeymoon on TP.)

What was TP? Was it a place? She picked up her phone and typed TP Maine. Along with links for the Maine Turnpike and travel planning, links to a place called The Point appeared. She clicked on images to see a beautiful ocean beach. Her grandparents honeymooned there. She just knew it. A smile crossed her face pushing away the heaviness in her heart.

Thanks for reading and voting ⭐️

*RIP Tim Wakefield October 1, 2023