Second Chance Summer

My father was lying on the couch, listening with a faint smile on his face as Gelsey perched nearby, apparently telling him all about the carnival. She stopped talking as she looked up at us, standing in the doorway. My father’s head slowly turned as well, but I was watching my grandfather’s face when he got his first glimpse of my father.

I had never seen my grandfather cry. He was not one for any kind of displays of affection, and he and my father had always seemed to greet each other with a handshake and a pat on the back. I’d never even seen him get even slightly emotional. But when he saw my father, his face seemed to crumple, and it looked like he aged about five years, right in front of my eyes. Then he squared his shoulders again and walked to the couch, nodding at Gelsey as he went.

But as I watched, surprised, my grandfather went right up to my father and hugged him gently, starting to rock him back and forth, as my dad gripped his hands. I signaled to Gelsey, and she got up and headed over to me. “Is Grandpa okay?” she whispered to me as I stepped out of the front door and she followed.

“I think so,” I said. I looked back for a second into the living room and was struck by how small my dad looked in my grandfather’s arms. Probably almost like he had a long time ago, when he’d been Gelsey’s age, and younger, just a little boy himself. I eased the door closed behind me, giving my grandfather a moment alone with his son.


I couldn’t sleep that night. This in itself was not so unusual. What was unusual was that I wasn’t the only one.

Normally, I would have gone next door, to find Henry, to try to forget a little bit. And somehow the fact that I couldn’t do this—and that this had been my own choice—was making lying there unbearable.

Things were made more complicated by the new sleeping arrangements—my grandfather had been installed in Gelsey’s room, and Gelsey was currently snoring away on my trundle bed. We’d agreed to switch off taking the trundle bed, but as I listened to her breathing in and out, I found myself wishing that I’d offered to take the first night. It would have been much easier to leave the room without having to climb over her. But when I couldn’t take it any longer, I slipped out of bed and held my breath as I stepped over her. She didn’t wake, just sighed a little in her sleep and rolled over again. I let out a breath and turned the doorknob, stepping out into the hallway.

“Hiya.” I made a kind of squeaking noise and literally jumped, even though it had been a very quiet greeting. But I’d totally forgotten about Paul, who had the night shift with my dad.

“Hi,” I whispered back, trying to get my racing heart to slow a little bit. Paul was sitting in a chair near the hospital bed, where my dad was sleeping, his mouth open, his breath labored. I’d met Paul that afternoon when he’d replaced Melody, the nurse who had smiled but hadn’t said anything to anyone all day. Paul at least had seemed a little friendlier. “I was just, um, getting some air,” I said. Paul nodded and went back to reading what looked like a graphic novel. I noticed that Murphy had abandoned his dog bed and was curled up under my father’s bed. I motioned to the dog as I opened the door, but he didn’t move, just stayed put and rested his head on his paws.

I stepped outside and stopped short, getting my second surprise of the last few minutes—my grandfather was standing on the porch, in pajamas, robe, and leather slippers, peering through an impressive-looking telescope. “Hi,” I said, too shocked to really say anything else.

“Good evening,” my grandfather said, straightening up. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

My grandfather sighed. “Me neither.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the telescope. It was huge, and beautiful, and I was, frankly, a little amazed that my grandfather had brought it with him. “What are you looking at?” I asked.

He gave me a small smile. “Do you know your stars?” he asked. “I think I did give you a book on it, years ago, actually.”

“Right,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up, not sure how to tell him that I hadn’t read it beyond the most superficial flip-through. “I don’t, really,” I confessed, taking a step closer. “But I’d been hoping to learn.”

My grandfather nodded. “You can’t be a sailor without knowing your stars,” he said. “They’ve tried to get me to give it up at the Academy. These newer officers telling me that with GPS, it’s not necessary. But as long as you know your constellations, you’re never lost.”

I took a step closer, peering up at the sky. There were so many more stars here than there ever seemed to be back home; maybe that’s why I’d suddenly gotten fascinated by them this summer. “Really?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” my grandfather said, clearly warming to his theme. “No matter what else happens, your constellations don’t change. And if you’re ever lost, and your precious GPS is on the fritz, they’ll tell you where you are. And then they’ll get you home.”

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