IN ONLY 1000 WORDS

Story 3: Not A Fairytale

"Grandpa?" My granddaughter asked me. "Tell me again the story of you and Grandma."

"Oh, that's a long and sad story."

"But it's beautiful too." Her older sister said.

"Oh, alright." I gave in. My mind flashed back; I remember like it was yesterday.

It was a summer like any other; 1956. The summer breeze was warm and the sun shined bright as we splashed and played on the beach. It was just the four of us: Molly, Peter, Jessica, and me. James. We had just finished our sophomore year of high school, and my sixteenth birthday just passed. Summer at last!

"Hey Jess," I called to my girl.

"Yeah, James?" She asked. In response I grabbed her playfully and dunked her. When she came back up she tackled me and I got a mouth full of water. We both laughed and coughed at the same time, and then I pulled her in close.

She kissed me slowly, sweetly, until Peter and Molly started laughing. Peter wolf-whistled and Molly shouted, "Get a room, why don't ya?"

We hung out on the beach for the rest of the day, only going home when it got dark. It was a day I will never forget.

...

Jessica and I had been together for three years. We were freshman in college, and it was our anniversary. I was planning to propose. But first, a date at the movies seemed appropriate.

We went to a movie and dinner, and then split a chocolate Sunday afterwards. She had chocolate on the side of her mouth and I kissed it off. "I love you." I told her. "And there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"What is it?"

I get out of my chair and down on one knee, holding open a ring box displaying the fanciest diamond ring I could afford. I saved up my pay for months just to get it.

Jessica gasps. "Jess, we've been together for three years. You know me better than anyone ever has; all my mistakes, all my flaws, and yet you love me anyways. I would be absolutely honored if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes become a little misty, and she nods. "Yes!"

...

We've been married for four years. I'm 23. We have two children and a roof over our heads, but still. Things are rough.

Jessica was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago, and treatment is expensive. I almost lost my job because I was coming in to see her instead of  going in to work.

Thankfully they understood when I told them about her cancer, but things are still hard. She's very weak now, stuck in the hospital all the time. She's hooked up to all these machines and wires, and usually she isn't conscious when I visit her.

The children found it hard to take, too. They didn't understand why Mommy couldn't come home, or why all those tubes were sticking out of her. A lot of cancer patients don't  have it that bad. They get go go home. But Jess, she's on the verge of life and death. She could slip away any moment.

I don't know what I would do without her.

"James," she tells me during one of my visits. "Promise me..."

"Anything, hon."

"Promise me you'll take good care of the kids. Promise me that they'll know how much their mom loved them. And promise me that after a little while, you won't hold yourself back from finding new love. The kids are gonna need a mom, and just because it can't be me doesn't mean she's not out there. I want you to find someone."

I hadn't realized it, but I'm crying. Hard. "Don't even say that." I tell her. "How can you say that?"

"Because I love you. Now promise me."

I pause for a long time. With no intention of ever remarrying, I say, "I promise."

...

It's been a year since she passed. I'm 25 now. The kids are 2 and 4. Today is our 5th wedding anniversary. I drop the kids off at a friend's house and then I visit her grave. I place the largest bouquet of flowers on it that I can afford. I miss her so much.

Money is tight. The company I work at  is slowly going down hill, and with two children to feed, I sure don't have any spare change. Not to mention that I finally just finished paying off all the medical bills.

I sit by her grave and talk to her for at least an hour as if she were here. "I miss you. It's hard raising the kids by myself. You always knew what to do. You'd know what to do now."

"I know I promised you I'd find someone else, but I just can't look at anyone else without thinking of you." I arrange the flowers neatly for something to do. I place them in a pattern all around the grave. Red, yellow, white. Red, yellow, white. "I just..." I don't even know what to say. "I love you. Happy anniversary."

Then I wipe the tears off my face and attempt to pull myself together. I decide the time for grieving is over. I've got a family to raise.

...

"So you see," I tell my grandchildren. "It was a sad story. But I never forgot her. I never stopped loving her. And that's what counts."

"What do you mean?" The older girl asks.

"Well as long as I remember her, she'll live on in my heart. As long as I keep on loving her, she can't truly die."

I look over at their step-grandmother and smile. I take her hand and squeeze it. "And I even kept my promise."

The End