I have no idea what he looked like when she met him in nineteen years ago, but she recognizes him.
Stumbling forward she falls into his arms. “My boy. It’s you. It’s finally you.”
With his shoulders rocking from the sobs running through him, he holds tight to her. “It’s me. I’m here.”
***
Once they parted, Barrett went to use the washroom. Marti took me in her arms as she watched him walk away.
We’re seated now, at a table in the corner of the restaurant. My grandmother’s hands are holding tight to the hands of the man I love.
“How did you find him?” She looks over at me. “Who helped you find him?”
I smile at Barrett. “Do you remember that man I told you about? The one I met at the restaurant when I thought he was my blind date?”
“Your boss?” Her nose scrunches. “The man you love?”
“That man loves her,” Barrett interjects. “I’m that man.”
Marti’s gaze volleys from Barrett’s face to mine and back again. “No.”
“Yes,” we say in unison.
“The boy who saved my Dolly will marry my Dolly?”
“Woah.” I hold up a hand. “Grandma, slow it down.”
“I’ll marry her,” Barrett says in a serious tone. “I want nothing more in this world than to be her husband.”
That sets me back in my seat. “Barrett.”
“Isabella.” He turns to face me. “I love you. I damn well know you love me because I saw you sign it to your parents last week.”
“You know sign language?” Marti gives him her full attention again. “You didn’t know any back then.”
“Your granddaughter gave me hell for that.” He reaches to take one of my hands in his, all while still holding tight to Marti’s hand. “I went home to Chicago and I studied. I needed to know how to talk to my sister.”
“Bizzy.” Marti’s voice perks. “How is little Bizzy?”
“Beatrice,” I correct her. “She goes by Beatrice now.”
Ignoring me completely, Marti looks to Barrett. “How is she?”
“She’s happy.” He beams. “She’s a teacher at a school in Brooklyn.”
“You’ll bring her for lunch one day,” my grandma states. “I’ll cook something special for her.”
“She’ll like that,” Barrett says without reservation. “I think she’ll like that.”
A tear streams down Marti’s face again. Drawing in a deep breath, she swallows hard. “You risked your life to save Bella. If you hadn’t pushed her out of the path of that taxi, she would have…”
“I’m fine, grandma,” I interrupt when I see emotion overtaking her. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“Your head.” Barrett nods his chin toward me. “You hit your head hard, Bella. Your nose was bleeding. You were knocked out cold.”
Marti moves to cover his hand with hers. “It was a concussion. That’s all. Some scrapes and bruises, but she was home two days later.”
“I thought her injuries were more serious,” Barrett confesses with a sigh. “I was told that she’d never be the same again.”