From the last guy she ever really loved—a love she lost fifty years ago—my 70-year-old granny received a Valentine gift. But I understood I had to intervene when she declined to visit him, fearing what the past could bring. After all this time, could I bring them back together or was some love intended to remain in the past?
Valentine’s Day seems like a lovely celebration when you’re in a relationship: romance everywhere, couples in love, and happiness all around.
Valentine’s Day turns into a cruel joke, a reminder of how unhappy you are—romance everywhere, irritating couples in love, and everyone is happy except you—when you’re single.
It was all the buildup to the holiday, not only the holiday itself. I could almost sense the universe ridiculing me.
Being single, I could no longer bear the sight of all the hearts, cuddly toys, and flowers.
I chose to go to my grandmother to avoid it all. Living in a little town where life flowed slower, holidays didn’t seem as stressful.
I counted every one of the three days remaining till Valentine’s Day, anticipating its end.
I only wanted life to return to normal; the unending reminder of how excruciatingly single I was kept me from enjoying it.
Out of nowhere, my grandmother’s voice came from the other room.
Natalie! Her voice was quick and piercing.
“Yes?” I said, entering the room.
A letter in her hand, she sat by the window in her chair. Frowning, she raised the envelope. My glasses elude me. Whom is this letter from?
I grabbed the envelope from her and looked at the lettering. It was tidy, deliberate, unknown.
Turning it over, I found a name written on the rear. I said, “It’s from someone called Todd.”
Her face shifted. “Todd?” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “That… that can’t be.”
Before I could utter another word, she grabbed the letter from my hands. Her fingers shook as she ripped it open.
Along with a folded note, a tiny Valentine’s card fell out. She grabbed up both, looked at them like they could disappear. She then extended them to me.
“Read it,” she urged.
First, I opened the Valentine’s card. “The card reads, ‘I still love you.'” I felt a tightening in my chest. “That’s… really nice.”
She made no response. Her gaze remained fixed on the note. The letter? What is in the letter? She pushed.
I exhaled and unfolded the sheet. Like someone had spent time with every word, the penmanship was lovely and meticulous. I started to read out loud.
Fifty years ago, you and I had only one night, my lovely Mary. One night that altered me for all time. I never forgot you, but I had no idea where to look for you. You never showed up at the Paris train station that day, and you shattered my heart for all time.
I looked up and swallowed hard. Sitting motionless, my grandmother clutched her hands. I went on.
Your granddaughter’s social media helped me to find you, nevertheless. Should you still recall me and if that night meant anything to you, please meet me at the New York train station on the same night we last saw one other. Always yours, Todd.
The room was silent. I had a stiff throat. Though my grandmother didn’t even attempt to hold hers back, I blinked back tears.
Todd who? I inquired gently.
Wiping her face with her sleeve, she drew a trembling breath. She said, “The only guy I ever really loved.”
I looked at her. What is it? What about Gramps?
She gazed down at the letter resting in her lap. Your grandfather was great,” she added. But I loved Todd with the sort of passion they write songs and poems about. Though we just spent one night together, he knew me better than anybody else ever did.
This took place in Paris? I inquired.
She nodded, her lips pulling into a little smile. I visited as a tourist. Todd was still in school. Our paths crossed on the subway. Walking around the city all night, we talked…
I had to travel back home the next morning. Todd brought me to the train station so I could reach the airport; we decided to see each other one year again, same day, same station.
What transpired then?
Her grin disappeared. She gulped down. My mother passed away. Her burial took place the same day I was meant to fly to Paris to see Todd.
I breathed out gently. Did you inform him?
“How?”, she inquired, her head shaking. I lacked his address. Back then, there were no mobile phones.
You never saw him again then?
She shook her head.
Which day it was?
She spoke so softly that her voice was almost inaudible. The fourteenth of February.
Looking down at the letter, I sighed. The most romantic day of the year in the most romantic city on Earth.
A melancholy grin crossed her lips.
You must go see him.
Her expression grew steely. Not at all. Definitely not.
“Why?”
That day I let him down. Who knows how our lives would have turned out should I had left?
“But he wants to see you right now!” I contended.
Her hands held the letter fast. “Not at all.” Discussion over.
My grandmother was a tenacious lady. Once she decided, there was no turning back.
I knew she wouldn’t consent to see Todd, no matter how hard I pleaded. That meant I had to handle things myself.
A little deception never harmed anyone, particularly when it was for a good reason.
I put on my coat and took the car keys on February 14. “Grandma, I have to run an errand. Come along, I said nonchalantly.
Sitting in her chair, knitting, she seldom looked up. What sort of errand?
It will be fast, I said. Going alone is not what I desire.
She groaned and set her knitting aside. “Okay, okay.” I’ll fetch my coat.
I began driving when we entered the car. The first several minutes were calm, simply the sound of the road under the tires. She then looked out the window and scowled.
“Natalie,” she said deliberately. Where precisely are we headed?
I gripped the wheel tighter. I said, “To the train station.”
She arched an eyebrow. Which rail station?
I coughed. “New York.”
Her head turned toward me. What?
You have to see Todd, I said. Even after all these years, he recalled you.
Her cheeks flushed. “Not possible! Drive this automobile back around!
“No,” I answered resolutely.
She huffed and crossed her arms. Then I am not talking to you any more. Her lips tight in a thin line, she turned her face to the window.
The remainder of the trip was quiet. She would not face me. I knew she was angry, but I also knew she required this.
I parked the car and looked to her when we eventually reached the train station. “Come on,” I said.
She remained still.
Granny.
Still no results.
I let out a sigh. “You may be obstinate, but so am I,” I remarked.
She turned, squinted her eyes, and then gradually exited the vehicle. I led her in by the arm.
The station was bustling with people hurrying in all directions. I looked over the throng for a man in his seventies. My heart raced.
But I found no one.
My grandmother exhaled deeply. “He’s not coming,” she stated. He most likely intended to get revenge at me for not appearing all those years ago.
I didn’t want to think it, but the more we stood there without seeing Todd, the more I began to question he would arrive.
But then a man of my age came walking toward us. He appeared anxious, moving his weight from one foot to the other.
He inquired, “Are you Mary?”
My grandmother sat up. “Indeed. Who are you, young fellow?
I am Justin. Todd is my grandfather, he added. The letter was sent by me.
I gaped. What? Does Todd know anything about this?
Justin was unsure. “No,” he confessed. He said, “But he told me the tale. He claimed to have spent his whole life lamenting not finding you. I could not relax and do nothing. That brought me to you, Natalie, and then via you I located Mary.
I raised my hands. “We traveled all this distance for nothing?”
Justin said fast, “No.” My granddad wishes to see Mary. Yet he worries she won’t want to visit him.
My granny nodded no. We shouldn’t have come, I said. She was about to go.
“Wait, ” I said. “How can I tell Todd won’t simply slam the door in my grandmother’s face?”
Justin’s gaze softened. “He won’t,” he said. Every word in that letter was his. I only wrote it since he lacked bravery.
My grandmother laughed derisively. He would have penned it himself if he truly desired this.
I folded my arms. “You didn’t go to Paris fifty years ago, and you were afraid to come here as well,” I remarked. “Thus… So, do you wish to see Todd?
She remained silent.
Justin said, “Please.” All I want is for my grandpa to be happy.
I inhaled. I said, “We’ll go.” Someone ought to be in love on Valentine’s Day.
Justin grinned. Tell me about it, please.
We got to Todd’s structure. Justin knocked on the door and guided us to the apartment.
“Grandpa, it’s me!”
There came a voice from within. Coming!
Justin turned to me and drew me aside. Alone at the door, my grandmother stood.
The knob rotated. The door swung open.
A guy emerged. Gray hair and somewhat stooped stance marked him. The instant he saw her, his face altered.
He said, “Mary…”
Covering my lips with my palm, I gasped. Justin even seemed shocked.
My grandmother said gently, “You remember me.”
Tears came to Todd’s eyes. “How could I ever forget?”
They stood motionless, gazing at one another. Neither of them said anything.
Todd then moved forward and embraced my grandmother. Clinging to him, she sobbed softly.
Justin looked at me. “We did well,” he remarked. You talked Mary into coming, right?
Yes, I remarked.
“We make a good team,” he grinned. Perhaps we ought to toast over supper.
I grinned. We shall see.
