(Short Story / Last of 5 Parts)

I felt tremendously excited and a little bit worried for my grandmother. I cannot be mistaken. The old man who gave the card was her adorer. I wished that the old man decided to stay longer. I opened the gate. Grandma got out first.

“Where is he… where?” asked my grandmother. “My God! Why didn’t you give this to me immediately.” I scanned the part of the road where I saw the car parked. It was no longer there. In the whole neighborhood, I searched, my Grandma’s adorer was nowhere to be found.

When I returned, my grandmother stood in front of the newly-built bungalow where the old man parked his car earlier. Needless to say any word, both Grandma and I were despondent. My sadness emanated from the failed expectation that I would meet the noblest lover I have known.

The source of my Grandma’s sorrow was different, I was sure. Now, I no longer need to ask if Grandma loved her adorer. Her actions at that time betrayed her – her being so disconsolate for failing to finally see her adorer after more than four decades revealed how she truly feels for him.

We exchanged no words until we reached her room. I decided to stay with my grandmother. She had laid on the bed while I went back to continue reading Peeker’s blogs. My Grandma’s eyes were closed. I watched her intently. Even in old age, she remained elegantly beautiful, notwithstanding all those wrinkles. No wonder why her adorer fell madly in love. Later on, I noticed some tears falling from her closed eyes. At that instance, all the more that it became clear to me how she felt about her adorer.

After a few minutes, a notification about a new blog entry appeared on the laptop’s screen. After 10 years, Peeker blogged again for Charming.

“Grandma, wake up. Peeker has a new post for you!” There was no reaction from Grandma. She seemed disinterested. “Did you hear that grandma, a new post from Peeker!”

It took a while before Grandma reacted and said with her eyes still closed, “Would you like to read it aloud for me?”

“My pleasure!” I answered. With tremendous excitement, I opened the blog entry and started reading aloud.

—–

My Ever dearest Charming,

“Happy 60th birthday… Rest assured that I never stopped thinking about you. God knows I never stopped loving you.

Now I can tell you. I worked in the Middle East only for 5 years. I returned to our country after that, but I decided never to bother you. I made it appear that I stayed for good in the Middle East. Please forgive me for that.

I was there when you graduated from college and in graduate school. You just did not see me. I was there during your 30th, 40th, and 50th birthday celebrations. I was there each time that I wanted to see you. Each time I would only be watching clandestinely from a distance and through the tinted glasses of my car. How lucky I would be to see you daintily tending the flowers in your garden as my car rolled by. You know so well that just seeing you would give me immeasurable joy. But why do you seem sad whenever I see you alone in the garden? 

 I almost died in jealousy each time I passed by and witnessed on your terrace how gently your husband would kiss you on your cheeks and lips. 

I was there also when you got married at the age of 25. You were the prettiest bride that I have ever seen. That was the most ironic moment in my life. While you were tying the knots, mine was unknotted, for it was that day when the court approved the annulment of marriage that my wife filed. I never got married again, for I vowed you would be the last woman I would love.

Why did I stop blogging for the past 10 years? Your husband got sick, and I don’t want to burden you more. I wanted you to provide him with undivided attention. When he died, I tried to respect your bereavement. I may have stopped blogging, but I never stopped tirelessly watching you from afar.

I own the bungalow nearby. I was watching when you and a young gentleman came out of the gate of your house several minutes ago. But I don’t know why until now I am afraid to face you. Perhaps I need an answer to a question I should have asked you before we parted that day.”

—–

Upon hearing that portion, my Grandma opened her eyes and excitedly exclaimed, “What did he say again?”

“Grandma, he was in his house when we searched for him. He saw us.” I retorted.

“Oh, that melodramatic fool,” my Grandma said in exasperation.

—–

“I was the happiest person on earth when I saw you. I would like to believe that you were looking for me and wanted to see me. I hope I am not so presumptuous, but under the bright light post, I saw in your face how much you wanted to see me. When you could not locate me, I saw how sad you were, the same sadness that I saw during our first and only date… it was a picnic we had then… I told you that I would be leaving for the Middle East.

Now I have one request to make. I will now allow you to comment on this post. Please answer my questions.

Do you love me? Please allow me to live the last days of my life with you. 

—–

My grandmother obliged. She requested me to encode her reply to her adorer’s questions.

—–

If only you tried to show up before I got married, things would have been different. Right from the start, you have stolen my heart. You’re a thief. But I was so young and so afraid. I didn’t know what to do. I cried when you left. I cried a river. That river drowned me for a long time. I wanted to stop you from going, but I don’t know if you would listen. I was waiting for you to kiss me, embrace me, and do whatever you wanted to do to me. But you never did.

I cried every time I read your blogs. And as the days, weeks, months, and years passed, I felt how much my love for you had grown stronger. 

 If only you appeared in the church during my wedding, I would have ran to you and asked you to bring me anywhere you wanted. But you never did. I want to think that you’re a coward. I did not ask you to sacrifice to give me away to someone else because you always wanted to toe the line of propriety and morality. I don’t know if I would consider that sacrifice on your part or if it was cowardice. It hurt that you did not try to express your feelings for me. I would have preferred to be ridiculed by my friends and family…by society…than lose you.

You are right. I was not happy all those years because I kept waiting for you. My husband knew about you, about my feelings for you. We quarreled many times because he resented that I could not forget you until he accepted that you would always be part of me. 

But I never told him about your blogs. Your blogs kept me afloat, but I preferred seeing you in flesh and blood. I waited for you to show up anytime and take me away, but you never did. My husband knows that anytime you appear, he may lose me. I hate to admit it, and may our God forgive me for this… there were nights I shared the bed with my husband, but I imagined you. 

And here you are now, finally. 

How cruel of you not to have blogged for the past 10 years. It was during those years that I needed you most. Not just that. You doubled my pain. For not blogging, you kept me drowned in anxiety. I did not know what happened to you. I thought you finally got tired of loving me. I thought you were sick. I thought you were dead. 

How cruel of you not to have just shown up, kissed, and embraced me when I left the house earlier.

I want to see you in my garden tomorrow. If you don’t show up, forget about me. 

—–

“Are you happy now?” Grandma asked. “Now you know the answers to all your questions.”

“What will you do when you see him tomorrow, Grandma?”

“I will slap that melodramatic old man!” 

“Then?”

“I will embrace and kiss him! I will demand that he marries me.”

(The End)