Les smiled. “I haven’t hooked one yet.”
“We gotta get going, Les,” Vern said from the dock. “You just observe today, got it?”
Les ducked his head and nodded, his hair flopping.
“I love you, Lolly,” Vern called. “See you tonight.”
“Okay, Dad. Catch a lot of fish to fry for dinner!”
Vern got into the back of the boat and lowered the engine into the water.
“So? You never answered me,” Les said to Lolly, before he turned to leave.
“About what?” Lolly asked.
“What are the names of your loons?”
“Oh! Well, they’re new here,” Lolly said. “And they’re loud. They sort of squabble, but in a nice way. The old loons were named Lucy and Ricky. Got any ideas?”
“What about Fred and Ethel?” Les said. “They squawk at each other, but you know they couldn’t live without the other one.”
Lolly’s face beamed. I Love Lucy was the one TV show that could always make her laugh.
“That’s perfect,” she said.
“You know what I learned about loons in college?” Les asked.
Lolly shook her head.
“They mate for life,” he said. “And they always return home, to the same lake, every summer.”
Vern revved the engine on the boat, and Les left Lolly standing dumbfounded on the dock. Les climbed into the boat unsteadily and took a seat with a big thud. As the boat left the dock and zipped across Lost Land Lake, Lolly waved goodbye, her bracelet jangling, as Fred and Ethel, alarmed by the commotion, ran across the top of the lake after each other, their legs churning, until they took flight into the morning sky, craning their necks to look at one another. Lolly strained her eyes to watch them fly; she could swear they were smiling.
And just like Fred and Ethel, Les returned to Lost Land every summer for Lolly and, eventually, he never left home, either.
Twenty-two
“You can’t leave me hanging like that, Grandma,” Lauren said, her eyes wide. “When did he finally ask you out? How long did you date? When did he propose?”
Lolly laughed and took a big gulp of her second beer as another Sinatra song ended.
“Your grandfather, Les, asked me out the next summer, and we went steady long distance until he finished college. The summer after he graduated, he secured a job with the state parks department and helped my father on weekends, before taking over his guide business,” Lolly said. “He proposed to me that summer at the end of the dock on my birthday in the midst of the Fourth of July fireworks. It was so romantic and so thoughtful. He told me he had asked my dad—and my mom—for their permission. Les gave me the most beautiful engagement ring, and then he pulled out another box.”
“What was in it?” Lauren asked, on the edge of her seat.
“The charm of the loon,” she said, holding up her bracelet and finding the silver bird instantly. “I was so happy and honored that any man would value my past so beautifully. I asked him what the charm meant, and he said, ‘This is to a forever love that always calls you home.’”
Lauren was now weeping uncontrollably, sloshing beer out of the mug she was holding. “That’s the most beautiful love story I’ve ever heard, Grandma.”
“Here, my dear,” Lolly said, handing her another napkin. “You could use this.”
“I’m so sorry, Grandma,” Lauren said, putting her beer down and blowing her nose. “People are staring.”
“That’s my granddaughter!” Lolly laughed. “Causing a scene, just like me.”
“I’m sorry I never got to meet him. I’m sorry he died so young.”
Lolly reached out for her granddaughter’s hand and took it in her lap.
“He would have loved you! He was such a good man. He was such a great husband and father. He would have made a wonderful grandfather, too.”
Lolly squeezed her granddaughter’s hand. “But I want you to know something: Although I miss him desperately, I don’t regret a day of my life. One year, thirty years, fifty years: I found the love of my life, and that is the greatest blessing. You do know, my dear, that all my tragedy has affected your mom in so many bad ways: My mother dying so young, my husband’s premature death, and never having enough money. That’s why she’s so strict with you. That’s why she feels she has to control life, so it won’t come unhinged on her. The only things we can control are our happiness, our destiny, our impact on others. Rest is up to God.”
Lauren sniffled and nodded.
“Are you crying because you don’t have someone to love like that?” Lolly asked. “Have you ever been in love?”
Lauren looked toward her mother. “No, I haven’t been in love. I think I may be a bit like my mom … wanting to control life too much.”
“Well, don’t,” Lolly admonished. “You’ll find someone special, and when you do fall in love, let me help you plan your wedding! I had a charm pull at mine…”