The Letter

For the next seven days in a row, the new couple met at 6am during the week at 8 o'clock on the weekend where Grant stayed on Saturday for the first time.

And in exactly seven days, after walking a lap more per day with his cane, Grant handed it to his beautiful, older girlfriend near the bleachers at Auburn High School. With her by his side he walked one full, excruciating lap around the track without his walking stick.

He had tears in eyes the last 50 yards, but he refused to quit until he took the final step across the finish line. When he did, he reached for the chainlink fence to his left for support as the ungodly pounding in left leg felt like it might kill him.

"You okay?" Denise asked after giving him a some time to recover.

"I am," he told her as the pain went from unbearable to awful.

He looked at her then said, "Tomorrow should be fun."

"Grant? You don't have to walk two laps tomorrow," she told him, trying to be sympathetic.

"Ah, but I do," he informed her. "And I will."

And he did. And the following day he walked three and then four. Once he was able to walk two miles, he tried gingerly jogging a lap the day after and in spite of the pain, he limped to the finish line with a sense of satisfaction he hadn't had since completing The Crucible in boot camp almost four years earlier. And each and every time, the older woman he loved was with him every painful step of the way.

That weekend, Denise agreed to go back to the Harmon home to 'meet the parents'. Yes, she'd met them before, but this was different, and her stomach was in knots as they drove to there in spite of Grant's assurance everything would be fine.

His mom hadn't told his father until Grant left that afternoon, but when he left, he wished her luck with his dad.

"Wayne? We're having company for dinner tonight," she let him know.

"Oh? What's the occasion?"

"Grant has a girlfriend."

"I knew it!" her husband said. "That's where he's been spending all of his time."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"You know anything about her?" he asked.

"Oh. A little," his wife replied in a nonchalant kind of way.

"Well? You gonna tell me or do I have to drag it out of you?" he asked in his harmless growl.

"Just keep an open mind, okay?" came the reply.

Wayne gave her the eye then asked, "What? Is she...black or somethin'?"

"No, but what if she was?" his wife asked with no small amount of irritation.

"Well, I guess that'd be okay," her husband replied, the reluctance heavy in his voice.

"Shame on you, Wayne Harmon!"

"Okay. Sorry! So what's the big secret?"

"Let me start by saying you've met her. And then...keep an open mind."

After some initial roaring and a comment like, "What the hell's the matter with that boy?" and a quick follow up with, "No, what the hell is wrong with HER?" Grant's mother got him to quiet down.

"You will not be rude. Do you understand me?" she said waiting until he looked at her.

"Wayne?" she said loudly when he didn't answer her.

"Okay, okay! Fine. I'll bite my tongue. But this is wrong! You here me?"

"Honey? Our son is alive. And he loves this woman. I think being nice to her should be a whole lot easier than having someone hand us a folded flag instead. Don't you?"

Her husband mumbled something inaudible before saying, "Anything would be better than that."

"Right. So you behave yourself."

She moved a little closer then kissed him and said, "And who knows? Someone just might get lucky tonight!"

Wayne Harmon was not only on his best behavior, his wife managed to talk him into wearing something other than jeans for the first time in years, and that made her recall how handsome he'd once been and how much she still loved him, his many faults aside.

Denise was on edge the entire evening waiting for the age difference to come up, but to her very pleasant surprise it hadn't. The 'big elephant' in the room was work and more specifically, what Grant planned to do once he was released from active duty.

They were sitting and drinking a cup of coffee when it came up, and Denise set hers down as Grant got ready to answer his father's question.

"I don't know yet, Dad."

"What do you mean you don't know? The only thing that makes a lick of sense is you staying right here and working for me!"

Denise glanced at her younger boyfriend who said to his dad, "I'm seriously thinking about staying in."

It was hard to decide who looked more shocked. Grant's mother or his father.

"What? What do you mean by 'staying in'?" Sylvia asked with the utmost of concern.

Before he could explain his dad roared.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You damn near got yourself killed, and you want to go back and finish the job? Are you out of your god da...your...cotton-pickin' mind?"

"I don't know, Dad. Maybe I am," his son replied, not wanting to argue with the woman he loved sitting next to him.

"You must have. I mean, you come home with a woman twice your age and tell us you're in love with her. She's your teacher, for Christ's sake!"

Wayne didn't even try and curb his language this time, and Sylvia apologized immediately for her husband and demanded he do the same.

"I'm not apologizing for telling the truth," Wayne said, clinging to his stubbornness in spite of the guilt welling up inside of him.

Wayne's words hit Denise so hard she couldn't help tearing up. Grant noticed and took her hand.

"Honey? It's okay. Come on."

"Oh, don't go run away!" Wayne bellowed, but it was too late.

Grant was on his feet and took Denise's hand. As he got ready to leave he thanked his mom for dinner, as did a very tearful Denise. Sylvia hugged her and told her again how sorry she was, but it did nothing to stop the flow of tears.

As they drove back to her house, Denise cried so hard it scared Grant.

"Hey. Don't let my dad get to you."

"He...he hates me," she said, speaking in between sobs.

"No. He doesn't hate you, honey. He's mad at me. He's hurt and he lashed out because...because that's just what he does."

Grant expected to go inside with her, but Denise told him she needed to be alone. He gently pressed her to tell him why, and her answer stunned him.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"What? Denise. You can't...you know how much I love you, so..."

"I do. And I love you, too, but I feel so...guilty. And ashamed. I'm not sure I can be part of a family that thinks I'm...that kind of woman."

Grant tried to console her and put things in perspective, but she needed time to think, so he gave up trying to persuade her. As he drove home he wondered whether or not this might really be over along with a hundred other thoughts that swirled through his mind.

Things got worse when he opened the door and heard his parents yelling at each other, something he'd never experienced before. The moment they noticed their son was home things got eerily quiet before Sylvia said to her husband, "You make this right or I will never forgive you."

She walked over to her son, hugged him again, apologized for the third time, then left the room. The look on Wayne's face was one Grant had never seen before. It was a look he couldn't have ever imagined, because the look indicated both fear and remorse.

"Dad. Can we talk about this?" Grant said as calmly as he could.

"No. I don't feel like talking right now," the older man said without looking at his son as he also walked out.

None of those four people slept much that night, and Wayne Harmon's bed was the couch. He was up earlier than normal and both Grant and his mother assumed he was going to work. But Wayne had different plans.

The knock on her door at 7am startled Denise, and when she saw who was standing just outside of it, she felt sick to her stomach. Even so, she opened the door and said 'good morning'.

"Good morning," a very subdued Wayne Harmon replied. "May I please come in?"

"Okay," Denise told him in spite of her misgivings. "I have coffee ready. Would you like some?"

"No thank you. This won't take long," he told her, never taking his eyes off the floor in front of him.

"Then please come in and sit down."

Wayne sat on the edge of his chair, look a long, deep breath then slowly exhaled. He forced himself to look at the beautiful, younger woman across from him, and when he did, she saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

"I've never been so ashamed in all my life," he began as a tear fell and rolled down the older man's face.

He blinked a couple of times then continued.

"I...I never wanted Grant to enlist. I was so afraid something like what happened would happen or that we'd never see him again."

The hardboiled construction man wiped his eyes with the back of his hand then said, "The night they called us to tell us our son had been seriously hurt, I...nearly threw up. I didn't tell Sylvia because she was worse off than me."

Denise's eyes began watering, too, as she sat and listened to this man pour out his heart to her, knowing this couldn't be easy for him.

"But he was alive. And that kept me goin' until we got some more information. And then he called us, and I knew everything would be okay."

Wayne used a shirtsleeve to finish drying his eyes which were now clear.

"I'm not very good at sayin' things, Miss..."

He recalled her name and used it.

"All I want now that my son is still alive is for him to take over my business. But he needs a few years of experience to really learn it. So when he mentioned, you know, stayin' in the Marines, I...I just lost my mind."

He looked down for a moment then looked back at Denise.

"Worst of all, I took it out on you, and you don't deserve that. I can't say I understand this, but I know my son loves you. And...and well, it seems pretty obvious that you love him, too."

"I do," Denise replied very quietly.

Wayne tried to smile but it didn't really work even though Denise knew what he was doing.

"I...I just wanted to say two things. First, I am as sorry as sorry can be."

He fought off getting emotional again then, with all the sincerity he could muster, said, "If my son loves you, then that's good enough for me. And if you two want to get married somewhere down the road, I'd be happy to welcome you to the family."

The tears that had been welling up started falling as Denise stood up and walked over to him with her arms held out. Wayne stood up and not only hugged her, he squeezed her so hard she could barely breath.

"Sorry!" he told her when he heard her gasp.

"It's fine, Wayne," Denise replied with a warm smile when he let go. "And thank you."

"No. Thank you for even letting me come in and at least try and pull my foot out of my big mouth," Wayne said as he looked down at the floor again.

"You sure you don't want some coffee?" she asked.

"You know what? I really could use another cup. If you don't mind."

Denise sat and talked with him for a good 20 minutes, and by the time she left, she was not only no longer hurt, she realized she really liked this gruff man with the very soft heart. She hugged him again before he left and thanked him for stopping by.

As they walked out to his truck, Grant pulled up in his mother's car. The smile on his face said it all.

"Mornin', Dad," he said as though he expected to find his father there.

"Mornin', buddy," his dad replied. "I uh, I just wanted to say you got yourself a pretty amazin' woman there."

Denise smiled at him when he looked her way, and Grant told him he couldn't agree more.

"Well, I should be gettin' to work, so I'll leave you two lovebirds to do whatever young folks in love do these days," Wayne said as he winked at his son.

"Dad?" Grant said.

"Yeah?"

When Grant hugged his dad it surprised him to the point that it nearly made him tear up again.

"Okay. Okay. Enough of that!" he said as though the hug was Kryptonite.

"And Dad? Thanks."

As he walked away Denise took Grant's hand.

"Your father's a good man," she said.

"Yes he is," Grant agreed before turning to look at her. "Are we okay?"

"Yes. More than okay."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Definitely."

"How 'okay'?" Grant asked, one eyebrow raised high.

"Why don't you come inside and I'll show you?" she told him with a little flip of her head.

"Oh, wow. Okay. That sounds...great!"

As Denise lay in her lover's arms an hour or so later, he said, "I think I decided what I want to do."

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh."

"And?"

Grant rolled over and looked at her then said, "I can't ask you to follow me around the world and be alone for months at time when I'm gone."

"Grant, all I want is for you to be happy and do what makes you happy. You know that, right?"

"I do. And that only makes me love you even more."

As Denise smiled, he ran the back of his hand along her cheek then said, "I want to stay here and work for my dad. And I want..."

"Yes?" she asked as her heart pounded with anticipation.

"I want to marry you."

"Is that a statement or...something else?" she asked with a little smile.

"I had every intention of waiting a few months then picking the perfect time and place to ask you, but I've loved you for four years, and so...I'm asking you if you will. Marry me."

"I've loved you for four years, too, Grant Harmon. And there's no need to wait for a better time or place, because right here with you is as perfect as perfect could be."

"So you'll marry me?" he asked just to be sure.

"Of course I'll marry you. And I'll also love you every day of your life," Denise promised.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He rolled over on top of her then said, "My side didn't hurt that time. I feel like I could run a marathon!"

"Maybe you start by making love to me again and then we'll go see if we can slowly jog one more lap together tomorrow instead."

"As long as you're by my side, I'm game for anything," he told her as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"I will always be by your side, honey. Always."

"I love you so much," Grant told her as she pulled him back inside of her.

"I know," she replied with another big smile. "I read your letter, remember?"

*****

One year later, Mrs. Grant Harmon, who was almost 37 years old, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl they named Allison Anne Harmon.

While everyone was thrilled with the new addition to the Harmon clan, no one doted more on little Allie than her grandfather, who'd forgotten all about having a grandson to take fishing. He was smitten in the worst way and as wrapped as any man could be. Well, with the possible exception of her father, Grant, who was working hard to take over the family business one day, and who was happily wrapped around another girl's finger—her beautiful mother, Denise.