Fifty One

Fifty One
Threads of Hope and Shadows of the Past

Marinette's point of view

It has been long since Lucy had left and her presence still filled the room. Her words had an effect even as she had gone with her signature pride. I sat with my hands clasped tight on the edge of the couch as my mind replayed the incident in my head.

Moon, totally unaware of the tension within the room, was babbling sweetly in my grandmother's lap, his small hands clutched onto her necklace, pulling. Grandma laughed softly, but as she turned toward me, the grin sudsided.

Terry broke the silence with a cleared throat, standing close to the door, his stance unnatural and too rigid. He asked in a very cautioned tone, "Are you okay?"

I nodded begrudgingly. "I am all right. Just processing the whole situation."

He crossed his arms and asked, "Processing what?

I stopped, turned to Moon and my grandmother, and back to him. "The way she just popped up here uninvited. It was almost as if on cue, like she had left something here."
Terry's jaw clenched as he nodded. "It was on purpose. Lucy would not do anything without having a motive."

I said, my voice little more than a whisper now, "I'm concerned, but not for my own safety. For theirs, really." I gestured to Moon and my granny.

Terry's gaze relented. "I see, and you have every reason to be concerned. She is overstepping her boundaries."

"What am I to do?" The words snapped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Terry stepped forward, his voice firm and soothing. "I will see to that. I will hire some bodyguards to look after Moon and your grandmother.

I blinked, taken aback by his prompt response. "Bodyguards? Terry, that isn't..."

"It's necessary," he cut in, his face set. "Lucy won't stop until she gets what she wants, and I won't let her harm you or anyone close to you."

I started to argue, but he wouldn't let me. His face was hard, unyielding. And the tone of his voice was decidedly protective, unmistakable.

When finally I said, "Thank you," the words were barely a whisper.

Terry nodded, glancing at me for a moment before he turned toward the door. "I will get everything arranged first thing in the morning. For now, just focus on Moon and your granny. They need you. "

I walked Terry to his car in the still, chill night air. The silence between us was interrupted by the distant thrum of crickets, but it was just a background noise."

"Are you sure about this bodyguard of a thing?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.

Without hesitation, he said, "Yes, and unlocked the door of his car. It's not a burden, before you say anything. It's the proper course of action."

I smiled a little, but my chest was still heavy. "Terry, you've already done so much for me. I'm not sure how to express my gratitude."

"You don't have to," he said flatly, leaning for a moment against the car. "Just keep on doing what you're doing, Marinette. You've got a brilliant future ahead of you. Don't ever let Lucy or anyone else make you feel otherwise.".

His words lingered in the air as he got into the car. I watched him disappear down the road, taillights fading into the night. For the first time in hours, I was relieved.

Except for the minor groans of the floorboards and the refrigerator hum, low and soothing, the house had relaxed into the cadence of night. The first to fall to sleep was Moon, whose regular breaths were a soothing lullaby in themselves.

Grandma appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with two steaming cups of tea as I was still lost in the day's happenings. She looked at me with that look, like a resolve had been made, and there was concern in it.

Setting the soft yet firm tone, she said, "Sit with me." She pointed to the little dining table we always used late into the night for our talks.

I slid into the chair across from her and did as instructed. The space between us was filled with the scent of chamomile as she set one of the cups in front of me smelling reassuringly ground though my suspicion this wasn't going to be a straight-up chat.

In a while, she wrapped her hands around her own cup and said, "You've been quiet. More than usual."

I sighed, running my finger around the rim of the cup. "I've been thinking about a lot."

"Lucy," she guessed, in that light yet incisive tone.

"In part," I said, shrugging. "But it's more than that. It is about everything."

Grandma took a small sip of her tea and set the cup down after nodding slow. Marinette, you have a lot on your plate. Of course, you'd feel overwhelmed.

My voice was barely in a whisper as I went on, "It's not about me anymore. I have to think about Moon. His future, his and your safety, everything."

Grandma's eyes sought mine with a sure glance. "And yours," she whispered softly.

Astonished, I blinked. "Mine?"

"Yes, yours," she said resolute. Marinette, you have to stop making yourself the last one. You too have the right to be happy."

I shook my head, the smile tugging at my lips. "I'm not thinking that far ahead right now, Grandma. I have more important things on my mind."
She stared at me for a few minutes. Her lips pressed into a thin line, she proceeded. "You know gradually Moon is growing up and very soon, he will start asking you questions? What of his father? Why is it just the two of you?"

It was more forthright than I had been expecting, and I dropped my gaze to my shaking cup as I exhaled heavily. A moment later, "He's too young to understand that now."

She supplied delicately but firmly with, "He won't be forever." Children grow much more quickly than we often find pleasant. And he'd seek answers one day. Marinette, what will you say?"

I swallowed hard; it was hard to talk with that lump in my throat. Finally, I said, "I don't know."

Still holding her cup in her hands, Grandma leaned back a bit. "Sweetheart, I'm not trying to pressure you. However, it is time for you to think of marriage. None of us is getting younger."

I shook my head and chuckled. "As subtle as ever, Grandma."

A slight smile quirked her lips. "You know me. I say what is on my mind."

In a short wave, the smile was replaced by a more serious countenance. "Marinette, all I want is for you to be happy. Very happy. And I want Moon to live a happy life he deserves."

Even though her words had been benign, they suddenly felt like a boulder had dropped onto my chest. I stared into the swirling tea and anything that could distract my thoughts from those thoughts racing through my mind.

Finally, I blurted out without being able to control my emotions, "I am not ready."

She cocked her head and asked, "Ready for what?

With a firmer tone, I replied, "For any of it. For letting someone else into our lives and for moving on. It is just not yet the time for me."

Her eyes gleamed sharp as she asked in a soft voice, "Or is it that you're still holding onto the past?"

My heart went with a jolt as I looked up abruptly. "What do you mean?"

She didn't falter. I'm referring to him. Ethan.

The name was like a ghost from my memory, reminding me of all that I tried to suppress. I looked away and clutched the cup more tightly.

I said, "I'm not holding onto anything," but I didn't sound very convincing.

Grandma reached across the table and laid her hand on mine. "Marinette, it's okay to admit that. It's okay to hope. But you can only get so far on hope."

I said quickly, "I'm not hoping for anything," though the words sounded like a lie to me myself.

"Marinette," she said, stroking my knuckles with her thumb. "Anytime the name is spoken, it shows in your eyes; are you still waiting?" I couldn't make any direct contact to her because of this and told her nothing.

"It's been over a year," she said softly. And I know it is hard to finally let go of a loved one, but you have lived a whole life together. You deserve to move on and find happiness once more."

I blinked to fight the sting of tears at the corners of my eyes. "Grandma, it's not that simple."

"I know it's not," she said softly. But you don't give enough credit to yourself. You have built a decent life for Moon and yourself. And you can keep building it. You just have to keep trying."

I couldn't say anything because my throat was too tight, so I took a trembling breath. Finally, I said, "I just.... I need more time."

Grandma stroked my hand with her thumb once more as she nodded. "Take all the time you need, my love. Just promise me you'll think about what I said."

I said, "I will," though my chest was still heavy.

We sat there for a moment, wordless, as the soft hum of the house filled the air around us. Her hand stayed on mine-a small act of comfort, but at least it reminded me I wasn't alone in this thing.

But her words had echoed in my head as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. Moon would not stay young forever, and she was right. He would ask me questions someday that I might not be ready to answer. I still clung to the hope that Ethan would come back, much as I hated to admit it.

I wasn't ready to let go of that hope. Not yet.