The Stroke of Winter(48)

As she watched Joe, his head back, his mouth slightly open, a faint snore wafting through the car, Tess wondered what his spirit was doing. If he was talking with Sophie about dinner that night; if she was giving him a glimpse of where he might go, soon enough.

Back at the senior complex, Joe perked up. “Brrr!” he said as they walked into the building, a big smile on his face. Connie still sat at the front desk. “There she is!” Joe chirped. Tess was learning this was a favorite greeting. Maybe his way of compensating for not remembering their names.

“Welcome home, Mr. Wharton,” Connie said as Wyatt signed him in.

“Thank you!” he said. “I go by Joe. All of my friends call me Joe.”

She nodded. She’s heard that before, Tess thought.

They walked down the hallway, and Joe stopped at his door. So, he did remember. Wyatt fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked it, ushering the old man inside.

Joe shrugged off his coat and hung it up neatly, placing his hat on the shelf above it.

“Pop, it’s been a good day,” Wyatt said, enveloping him in a hug and patting him on the back in the way men did.

“Yes,” Joe said. “Yes, it has.”

“Thank you for including me,” Tess said, hugging him. She hoped it would be the first of many visits with the old man.

With Joe settled in his armchair in front of the television, they said their goodbyes. As Tess looked back at him from the doorway, she saw his expression droop. He seemed impossibly tired, as though he felt every one of his ninety-plus years.

Walking down the hallway with Wyatt, she threaded her arm through his.

“What a wonderful man,” she said, her voice cracking. Tears were stinging at the backs of her eyes, and she didn’t fully understand why. “Thank you for today. It was a real treat.”

“No, thank you. Pop had a great time.”

“So did I,” Tess said.

“He was the mayor of Wharton for many years,” Wyatt said. “You probably didn’t know that. He was involved with city government all of his life. He was one of the first people to push for the zoning ordinances that keep Wharton the way it is now—no tall buildings, no chain stores or restaurants. Developers tried to come in many times, and he blocked them. Sometimes singlehandedly. So we’re the sleepy little tourist town with all of the charm. That’s because of him.”

Tess smiled. “Not only did his family found the town, he preserved it,” she said. “He had a lot of foresight.”

“He always has,” Wyatt said. “I’ve learned so much from him. Not just about the ways of the world, preserving our history, keeping this town’s magic alive, but he taught me how to not just live, but to live well.”

Wyatt’s eyes were welling up with tears. Tess could almost see the love he had for the old man, as if it were a tangible thing, floating in the air around them.

“As you probably noticed, he is the very definition of living in the moment,” Wyatt continued. “Every dinner is the best he’s ever had. Every beer or glass of wine is more delicious than the last. Every day is a cause for celebration, whether it’s a holiday or any random Tuesday. I don’t know anyone who enjoys life more than he does.”

“It sort of makes you realize that the little things—a glass of wine, a great meal, the company of friends—are actually the big things,” Tess said.

“They’re everything,” Wyatt said. “I learned that from him. His perfect day would be sitting on the deck at the house in Wharton, looking out over the lake, steaks on the grill, with family and friends gathered around the table. Laughter, good food, storytelling. Nothing better than that, for him.”

“Or for anyone. What was your grandma like?”

“Wickedly funny and highly intelligent. I’ve never met anyone as smart as she was, and she never went beyond high school. And, wow, their marriage.”

“Good?”

“The best. Don’t get me wrong, my parents have a good marriage. But Pop and my grandma—that was a love story for the ages. He worshipped her. And she loved him right back.”

“He must miss her so much,” Tess said. “You too.”

“It’ll be ten years this spring,” he said. “It’s still hard to believe she’s gone.” But then he shook his head. “It’s such a cliché. Everyone says that. But it’s true. I can’t believe he survived one day without her. They were soulmates. Yet another cliché.” He chuckled. “But they were. I don’t know how else to describe it. It was like they were two halves of a whole. You couldn’t imagine one without the other.”

Tess looked into Wyatt’s eyes. “I’ve never had that,” she said. “I thought I had a good marriage to Eli’s dad. He thought otherwise.”

“I’m divorced, too,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “We haven’t had this conversation. It’s weird, isn’t it? It seems like we should know all about each other already.”

It did seem like that to Tess, oddly enough. It was as though they had skipped the getting-to-know-you stage and gone right to just being together. And they had only known each other a couple of days.

“We’ve been sort of busy with other things, I guess,” Tess said. “We really should have those conversations sometime soon.”