Faded Hearts

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Frank awoke to the same sounds – The soft crash of the ocean waves, a strong breeze that rustled the branches of twin red maples next to the house, and the caw of seagulls in search of breakfast. He kept the top bedroom window down a crack so the sounds would filter throughout the house. He glanced over at the gold-framed picture of Alice, his wife. Frank nodded and whispered, “All right, Alice. I’m going.”

Frank stumbled to the kitchen, clicked on the radio for the weather report, and pressed the ‘On’ button for coffee. He scratched his backside, and wandered into the bathroom to continue his morning ritual of a potty stop, shower, shave, and teeth brushing. He wet his fingertips and pressed down the scattered gray hairs protruding from an acre of forehead. “Gonna be a nice morning, Alice.” The words swallowed in the stillness of the house.

Frank threw on his usual shorts, a blue pocket T-shirt, and his old fishing hat. After slurping the rest of his coffee, he grabbed a bag and a couple of large multi-colored golf umbrellas, and trudged out the door. He descended the ramp and onto the beach, the sand cool and damp to his feet. Two lone lounge chairs lay just beyond the reach of the waves. Frank opened the umbrellas and attached one to the back of each chair. He wheezed and grabbed his inhaler for a brief ‘hit’.

Reclining on the left lounger, he took a book from the bag, and placed it open upon the other lounger. “Still not off chapter six, Alice?” The wind, almost on cue, rustled the pages while scooting the book a fraction. Frank sighed. He tilted his hat forward and fell asleep.

.........................

“Dad?”

“Oh.” Frank stumbled to his feet. He saw his daughter, Courtney and her son, Erik, plowing through the sand toward him. The bright sun made him squint. “Court! I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” He started toward them with outstretched arms.

“Erik, my boy. Come give your papaw a hug.”

Erik eyed the old man, looked around, and in typical teenager fashion complied begrudgingly.

“Hi, Dad.”

“What are you doing here so early, pumpkin?”

“It’s Friday.”

“It is?”

“What’s with the two umbrellas?” Erik inquired.

“Oh, that’s for me… Uhhh… I need a bit of extra shade.” He patted his round belly for emphasis.

“Are you sure you can handle Erik staying here for two weeks?”

“Why sure! I love my grandson. About time we went fishing.”

Erik scrunched up his nose. “Fishing?” He muttered. “Got any arcades?”

“That’ll rot your brain. Fishing is a relaxing sport.”

Courtney glanced between them. “You two behave yourselves. I had him drop his bags on the porch. Sorry I have to run.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Love you, Dad.”

“I wish you could stay.”

“No, Dad. I really have to get going. I’m late as it is.”

She pointed at Erik. “You behave.” A few moments later, the crank of an engine and she was gone.

“So, sport what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. What’s there to do here?”

“It’s a beach. Just sit here and watch the waves.”

“Thrilling.” Erik rolled his eyes.

“You hungry? I’ll go make us some breakfast.”

“I’d rather have lunch.” They both laughed. Erik wheezed a little. He slipped an inhaler from his pocket and sucked in.

“You too?”

“Yeah. It’s a pain.”

Frank slung his arm around his shoulders and they marched inside.

…………………………..

“You miss Grandma, don’t you?”

Frank paused over a sizzling pan of hamburgers, and peered at Erik. “Yeah. Why?”

“You have so many pictures. I’m not buying the shade thing with those umbrellas.”

“You must get your smarts from her.”

“Isn’t it time to move on?”

“Move on? At my age? I’m 64 years old. Where am I going to go?”

“You could try dating. There’s plenty of websites….”

“Whoa there sonny. That newfangled stuff isn’t for my generation.”

“That’s how it’s done now, Grandpa.” Frank flopped two burgers and two tins of applesauce on their plates.

“What?”

“Dating.”

“It is? I don’t know. Seems to be too…” Frank’s eyes scanned the floor for a word, “impersonal.”

“At least give it a try. Grandma’s been dead for three years.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Frank examined his grandson – About six foot, sandy brown hair, an earring in one ear, and a Velvet Revolver black T-shirt. He shook his head. No way.

Erik arose and sat at the computer just inside the foyer. “This thing is a dinosaur. You still have the internet I set up for you?”

“I think so.”

The sound of Windows starting echoed through the house. Erik tapped on some keys and images of elderly women paraded across the screen. “See?”

“Got any younger models?” Frank said with a grin.

“Sure, but they’re going to say the same about you.”

“Me?”

“Hey, here’s a woman just down the street. Says her name is Margaret Collins, widowed.”

“Could that be Maggie, Alice’s friend? She moved back to town?”

“Guess so. Let’s go meet her.”

“This is just too fast. I don’t think I’m ready.”

After some goading and prodding Frank and Erik stood before her door. With a trembling hand, Frank knocked. His mouth dry, his stomach lurched with that old feeling.

Maggie opened the door.

“Frank?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to uh...” Frank glanced Erik's way.

Erik's eyes urged him on.

"I'd really like to ask if you'd accompany me..."

“I see what this is all about." She looked at Erik, then back to Frank. She nodded knowingly. “My granddaughter put my picture on that web thingy. Shame on you young man for putting your grandfather through this." She raised an accusatory finger.

"Actually I don't mind now, Maggie." Her eyes turned toward Frank. His eyes met hers and something long-since faded stirred. She swung open the door.



999 Words
Paper Doll Gang Contest Entry: Picture Prompt