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Chapter Two

Claire cut up the rest of the brownies and closed the pan. They loaded the food and wrapped picture boards into the car before driving to church. It was silent as they brought everything into the church hall. Her aunts and uncles were there, some talking with the pastor while others carried flowers in.

She waved to them and followed her mom into the kitchen. Her aunts had brought desserts, too. More food would be coming in tomorrow. Their Ladies' Aid would be serving it all, so her family wouldn't have to do anything.

Her mom went to go by her sisters to talk with the pastor, leaving Claire and Bailey. Claire took her sister's hand and dragged her over to the picture boards. Their grandpa had had the . . . quirkiest smile. He'd never gotten braces, and once, when he'd been playing softball, a ball cracked him right in the face. But he'd still smiled. He'd always smiled.

Claire grit her teeth and looked. There were pictures of him when he'd been just a baby, the photograph black and white and filmy. Then pictures of him growing up, marrying her grandma at the young age of twenty. They'd had three girls and two boys before her grandma had began miscarrying. Five, her grandpa had always said, was the perfect amount for them.

There was her mom and her siblings all on their father's knee with his long arms wrapped around them. None of them were looking at the camera, and she could see that he was laughing. As he always did.

She remembered him waiting for her to go use the bathroom or look away and then stealing her sandwich. He'd hide it, and she would come back, asking for her food because she was just so hungry. He'd play "hot and cold" with her until she found it.

She remembered him teaching her how to ride a bike, when she crashed into a gas pole and had scraped her knees and hands. She'd cried that day. Claire began crying now. It seemed she couldn't stop crying. She wiped at her face, trying her best to not mess her makeup.

Bailey squeezed her hand, and they continued down the line. There were so many memories in all of these pictures, but she wanted more. She wanted more time with her grandpa. She just wished . . . She just wished she could have at least been here and not down in Arizona.

He had called Claire more often than usual, and she had told him how excited she was to be back home for Christmas and how much she missed him, despite having just been back for Thanksgiving. She always flew back for holidays and family events. She could afford all the flights, and even then, it was a small price to pay to be with her family.

And she had her plane ticket for a couple of weeks from now, when it would be Christmas. But she didn't need it now. Claire was just glad she had gotten to see him during Thanksgiving. As much as she wanted to be able to say a proper good-bye, she knew that wasn't what her grandpa had wanted. Her grandpa hadn't told anybody about his pancreatic cancer.

She knew it was because he didn't want people fussing over him or getting worried, but it hurt that he hadn't told her. He'd looked paler the last time she'd seen him, but it was winter, so pale skin was the norm. He'd lost weight, too, but he'd just said he had a cold and wasn't too hungry. There were so many signs, but he'd diverted all of their attentions.

"When was this one . . . taken?" Claire touched a photo on the top right. It was on the last board, which meant it was one of the most recent.

Greg was in it. He was standing next to her grandpa, both of the men holding up two large trout. They had their waders on, and hats and sunglasses covered their faces. Her grandpa had one of those long arms thrown over Greg's shoulders. The smiles on their faces were huge, despite both men having thick beards that all but covered their mouths. They almost looked related then, like a grandfather taking his grandson out to go fly fishing. Claire clutched the picture tighter, trying not to shake.

Bailey looked at it, a frown marring her brow. She turned it over in Claire's hand. The date read nine days ago.

"Just a little while ago," Bailey whispered. "Greg always took him out fishing. And they always asked me to come along and I usually did, but I . . ." She began crying. "I couldn't go that day, because I was going sledding with. . ."

"Shh . . . Bailey, it's okay. Grandpa must have loved having you come fishing with them. Remember the first time you came with us?" Claire laughed, the sound so full of snot that it made Bailey laugh, too. "And you . . . you cast out, but you hooked it in his pants?"

She laughed. "And I thought I caught something so I –"

"Started reeling it in." Claire laughed even harder, and it wasn't long before they were both clutching their sides.

She looked down at the picture again, not wanting to let it go. For a moment, she thought about putting it into her jacket and taking it back home with her, but her mom had put it up there for a reason. Claire pinned it back onto the board. This was for her grandpa. Not for her.

She should have known that Greg and her grandpa had stayed so close all these years. When she and Greg had been dating, her grandpa had really come to like Greg. Her grandpa had always been like a second father to her, so it was no surprise to her that he had been very protective at first, but it had surprised her when the two had bonded so much.

Claire would listen as they talked about everything with each other. Greg had even stopped by her grandpa's place without her, helping her grandpa fix up this or that or simply just to talk. Greg's relationship with his own father had been – and probably still was – strained, and she'd always thought her grandpa was the first father figure that he had really connected with. He'd been close with her dad, too, but not as close as he had been with Russell.

So it shouldn't have surprised her that they'd stayed this close, but it did. A part of her had wanted to simply ignore Greg for the rest of her life. After what they'd had, after what they'd both thrown away, it had just seemed easier. Severing any connection to him had seemed the best course of action, and it had worked these past years.

It was only when she came back home that she would hurt. Because everything reminded her of him. Everything. And now, here he was again, popping up in her life, unannounced but expected.

Claire touched the picture one last time before helping her family straighten everything up for tomorrow.