Cynthia clutched her granddaughter Molly's hand. The teenager's skin was smooth and soft against her wrinkles, and Cynthia couldn't help but smile to herself. She could still remember when her own hands had been that young, that delicate. But the years hadn't been kind, neither to her body nor to her soul.
Her granddaughter smiled back at her. "What's the matter, Nana?", she asked gently. "You look tired."
"No, darling. I'm alright. I'm rather waiting for my time. There's someone I need to meet." Cynthia's fingers weakened around the girl's hand, and she turned to stare out at the ocean. Squinting at the sunshine she said, half to herself, "I promised him."
Molly's brow furrowed. "Promised whom, Nana? Whom do you need to meet?"
When Cynthia turned to look back at her granddaughter, Molly could see tears shimmering in her blue-grey eyes. Cynthia smiled gently. "The man who would have been your grandfather."
As she closed her eyes, the memories came rushing back like the waves crashing against the rocks on the shore. The memories of the love of her life. Of Tommy.
She remembered how her eyes had found him across the dance floor. He was tall, broad shouldered, and so incredibly handsome. His Naval uniform shone white, his hair a radiant sunshine, and his eyes a shade of blue she had only ever seen in the Pacific ocean.
And he was looking straight at her.
The next couple of months were a whirlwind, both in real life and in her memory. They dated, they danced, they kissed beneath the stars, they swam in the ocean. Tommy was everything she wanted in a man, and more. She fell in love, and she fell hard. Oh, how she fell!
Every evening, they would sit upon a solitary bench on the shore, staring out at the ocean and planning their life together. It was at that very bench that Tommy went down on one knee, and asked Cynthia to be his forever. It was also that same day that he told her he had to go out to sea. "Wait for me?", he asked her nervously. "Forever", she replied with a smile. "I'll be waiting right here."
"What happened then, Nana?" Molly's voice jolted Cynthia back to the moment.
"He never came home", Cynthia sighed. "His ship ran into a storm, and a wave washed seven of them right off the deck. Tommy was one of them." She stared out over the ocean, as though expecting to see him there on the water. "He was never found."
Tears streamed down Molly's face, and she clutched her grandmother's hand tightly. "I had no idea."
"I never told your mother. Or your grandfather. I couldn't let them know that I still thought of him, still missed him. It wouldn't be fair to them."
Molly nodded. She couldn't find the words to respond, but she thought wordlessly about how torn apart her grandmother must have been all these years.
Cynthia squeezed her granddaughter's hand. "I intend to keep my promise, dear. I'll wait for him right here. I just hope he kept his word, too!"
Letting out a soft chuckle, Cynthia closed her eyes and rested her head against the bench. A moment later, Molly felt her grandmother let out a deep sigh as her hand went limp.
This story is a work of fiction. It's one of the few scenarios I imagined being the story behind the bench in this post. Let me know what you think :)
