what you think.”
“I know one thing.” Gramma reached across the table and her warm, caring hand covered Karen’s. “Love without passion is like lukewarm water. It’s not good for much.”
“Then you think I did the right thing?”
“I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Forever is a long time with a man who doesn’t love you the way you want to be loved.”
Some of the weight lifted from her chest, and Karen managed to take a sip of soda. “I thought you wanted great-grandchildren.”
“I want my granddaughter to be happy. That’s more important to me than anything in this world, even keeping up with Lois.” Gramma’s fingers squeezed gently, a reminder of the love Karen had known her entire life. “It’s tough when the man you’re interested in thinks you’re a cup of lukewarm tea. I have the same problem with Clyde.”
“Clyde Winkler, the man you’ve been seeing?”
“You look surprised.” Gramma took a long sip of her cola. “What? You don’t think a woman my age can have a love life, is that it?”
“I’m speechless.”
“And do you know what I’ve figured out? Men are all the same. They haven’t changed a bit since 1940. Still as thickheaded as ever.”
“Surely not every man in existence.”
“The one I’m interested in, at least.” Gramma stared out the window, where the drone of Jay’s mower grew louder, then began fading away. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never told a living soul. Once, I was in the same situation you’re in.”
“You called off a wedding?” Karen leaned closer. “With Granddad?”
“I almost did. I was younger than you are now, but back then, girls married much younger. All my friends from school had husbands, and I desperately wanted to get married. More than anything. Oh, what plans I had! I wanted a house of my own, children to raise and a man to take care of.”
“Which you did. Granddad was wonderful.”
“But he wasn’t the love of my life.” The confession was a quiet one, hardly loud enough to be heard above the hum of the air-conditioning.
Karen dropped her glass. Ice cubes and soda sloshed over the rim and onto the table.
Gramma calmly reached for the napkin holder and began mopping up the mess. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”
“But you loved Granddad. I know you did. I saw you together.”
“I did love him in a hundred different ways. As my husband, as the father of my children, as my best friend. But not in the most wondrous way. He never said, but I know that he felt it, too. He tried and I tried. While we made a life together, we lacked something important.” Gramma rose and dropped the wet napkins in the garbage container. “We didn’t have a deep emotional connection. That was something we couldn’t make together, no matter how hard we tried.”
I don’t believe it, Karen thought. Denial speared through her. Her grandparents had always been happy together.
No, seemed happy together, she corrected herself. And as she watched her gramma’s shoulders slump and felt the truth in the air, Karen realized the pain her grandmother must have silently lived with every day of her marriage.
When Gramma straightened, what looked like sadness and regret marked her face. “Your granddad told me once that he was glad to be with such a reliable woman. That out of all the women he could have married, he’d been lucky to wind up with me.
“Reliable.” Her voice shook a little. “I loved Norman deeply, but not deeply enough. Just as he could never love me. Even now I wonder what it would have been like for us if we’d managed to figure out what we were missing. We were never really happy. We were never truly unhappy. Lukewarm.”
Karen stood and paced to the window. She could see Jay in his mother’s backyard, pushing the mower. Tall and dependable, he was a handsome man with golden hair and sun-bronzed skin. The faint growl of the engine rumbled through the glass, and looking at the man whose ring she’d worn made sadness weigh on her heart. “Granddad wasn’t your true love.”
“I made a life with him and it worked out fine. I was blessed. I won’t say otherwise.” Gramma paused, letting the silence fall between them. “But a woman yearns to be something more than ‘reliable’ or ‘comfortable’ to the man she loves.”
Karen turned from the window, relief filling her. “That’s the real reason why I broke the engagement. It wasn’t only about the coffee shop. He doesn’t really love me, so how will he feel about me in ten years?”
“Love can grow and deepen with time.” Gramma slipped an arm around Karen’s shoulder. “But there are never any guarantees. Are you having regrets?”
“I know I hurt him. He’s a fine man, but he’s not the right one. I’ve prayed and prayed over it. Mom thinks I’m being foolish. But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. Did the Lord answer your prayers?”
“No. No confirmation either way.”
“You’re a good girl. God will answer you. Be patient.”
“See, that’s my problem. I’m not good. I’m just average.”
“Average? My granddaughter? Nonsense.” Gramma marched Karen to the table and gestured for her to sit. “You are a bright, beautiful young woman and as good as can be. I ought to know, since I’m your grandmother. A woman my age is wise about these things.”
“You’re biased.”
“I guess love will do that.” Gramma ran her fingers through Karen’s brown hair. “Do you know what I think?”
“I’m afraid to guess.”
“You might look good as a blonde. Ever think of that?”
“What do you mean? Color my hair? What does that have to do with this conversation?”
“You’d be surprised.” Gramma looked up into the mirror on the wall behind the kitchen table. “I’ve been thinking about getting rid of this gray hair. Maybe that’s my problem. If I dyed my hair red and bought a sports car, I wouldn’t be the same old reliable Helen.”
“You wouldn’t be the grandmother I know and love.”
“I’m not getting any younger, so why wait? And at my age, what am I waiting for? I want something different than spending most of my days in this lonely house. I want to know passion in my life. That’s what I want.”
Karen twisted around in her chair, surprised at the unhappiness etched on her grandmother’s face.
“You and I have the same problem, Karen. We’ve been good girls all our lives and in my case, it’s been a few decades too long.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve
