Yet another mushy time of year had gone by, when, as usual, lovers made haste to present everything pink, red, fluffy and sweet for their significant other. But for lonely Jerry Craig, his quiet home was dark, with the exception of the soft dancing light of two hopeful candles on the dining table that his love would accept his dinner invitation.
Much to his disappointment, his long-awaited Sweetheart -once again- failed to arrive.
Distracted and highly confused with memories of 50 years, they all lumped together to a present state which led him up the rickety ladder to his attic.
Stirring up thirty-year-old dust, his shirt tail only smeared the accumulating grime off his spectacles.
"Where is that silly thing!?" He muttered. "I really shouldn't be up here any-who."
Glancing around at the towering toys and boxes of another day, the reason he had dared this escapade and painfully climbed into the attic failed to occur to him.
"Darn my memory... What did I come up here for?"
Hearts, chocolates, and roses, danced in his head.
"Oh yeah... Valentine's." He grumbled on with indistinct muttering as he scanned the wall of heaped possessions.
Finally, he narrowed His eyes upon a familiar wooden heart-shaped object.
"Why I never! That old box is still up here!"
Shuffling forward and failing to notice the jutted nail at the narrowing part of the ceiling, the jagged sharpness caught him inconveniently where he had the most balding and always caught the worst injuries.
Grabbing his head, and stumbling over a box underfoot, he fell to his knees, his glasses soaring through the air onto the floor out of reach. His phone he had utilized for light, skidded across the wooden planks into a corner by the window.
Bruised knees, a bleeding head and in total darkness, the thought of being alone was the worst fear of all. And at such a time! What a terrible way to spend this specific holiday!
As dizzying darkness narrowed his vision, he began to forget not only the reason for his fall but where he was and why.
-------
Willa Langford passed the house every night during the week around the same hour. Her work at the hospital always kept her later than her shift this night, however, and as usual she glanced over at Mr. Craig's quaint navy home with white trim.
Knowing the resident as her patient of two months, and being the kind-hearted nurse that she was, she found her foot tapping the break as she saw a flicker of light in the attic and a sudden dimness across the windowpane.
“That's odd.” Remembering his episode last Tuesday caused her to turn one street too soon into the old man's drive.
Fumbling in her purse for her cell, she called 911 and also her grandmother telling her she would be running late.
She knew with dementia that she probably wouldn't remember that she had called, but maybe it would temporarily give peace of mind, borrowing enough time for her to check on Jerry before going home.
--------
Finding Jerry at 75 years old, in his attic was the last thing she expected. There he lay, blood covering his forehead, and eyes closed.
"Mr. Craig!" Her voice shaken, she hurriedly ran, and half jumped off the attic ladder to find a first aid kit.
Taking little notice to the candles lit at the table, and the odd setting for two people, she skirted past the kitchen dining into the closet near the restroom. Surely, there would be some emergency supplies stashed there!
“I knew I should have removed the ladder last time he mentioned wanting to go up there, but with his Alzheimer’s I was sure he would forget all about it!” Scolding herself aloud, she knew the blame game would not help the situation.
The previous frustration, that she had not been able to peek in on Jerry the last couple of days due to her intense workload at the hospital, resurfaced.
Locating the red and black box and rushing toward the attic ladder, she nearly toppled into the police officer before her almost shrieking in unexpected surprise.
"He's up there! I'm trying to-,"
Looking at him from inches away her words caught.
A new officer, a dark-haired beauty was staring at her in wonderment mouth slightly open getting ready to poise the ‘why are you in here’ challenge, seemed to have lost his vocal chords momentarily. The run-in was a bit surprising for both of them.
Trying to redirect his thoughts from how beautiful her blonde curls framed her sweet and soft featured face, he found his bearings and stepped back a bit.
"Can you show me where he is?"
Nodding with large eyes, her voice also failing, she climbed the ladder oblivious to the way he studied her as she climbed.
She was a small-framed woman but something about her spoke of great strength and self-will. She was no mouse.
He saw no ring upon her hands and wondered at it, around mid-thirties he thought she was such a rare beauty.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts of obvious attraction, he followed after her as Jacson, the second officer, trailed behind.
“What would he be doing up in the attic at this hour?!” His shock at the steepness of the fragile ladder and the low ceilings put both at a loss for explanation.
"Here, this must be his phone he used as a flashlight." Willa picked up the dark object and lifted the light in front of her. The focal point of the light fell upon a heart shaped wooden box.
"I bet he was looking for that. He kept insisting he had to come up here. Something about a love letter he had or something. I told him not to. He spoke of a love box and his love being up here...I thought...he was having one of his moments...you know the other day he thought I was his fiancé!" Her words trailed in concern barely making sense.
Jake caught her sweet glance at the elderly man and saw a heart so golden full of love for Jerry and his care. It warmed him and reminded him of his very own grandfather who suffered the same mental challenges.
"Let's get him down and in the ambulance. Nothing seems broken." Jacson moved forward.
Willa had picked up the box and studied it carefully.
"My it is old. I don't know how to open it but it is very well-made." The scent of cedar was very welcoming.
"Bring it along." Jake smiled understandingly.
Her surprised stare at him caused him to stutter:
"I um, I too--I have a grandfather -who uh- struggles mentally and uh...when he gets a chip on his shoulder..."
She nodded. "Kenneth Graham?" The small town spoke of few cases of Alzheimer's.
"Yes! I moved from California to care for him. I'm Jake Graham."
"That explains it." The words slipped out without thought.
"Explains what?"
"Um...it's--- just that I have never seen you before -I mean- I would have remembered if I had..."
Catching herself from blurting out how attractive she found him, she fumbled with the box pretending distraction.
"I would have remembered meeting you too." He smiled and her heart felt like wax.
Jerking his attention to the task of helping carry the unconscious man from the attic, their exchange was brief.
But special.
Willa was about to trail after them when the box lid gave way and contents came spilling out.
Letters. Lots of them. And "return to sender" messages hand-written upon each one.
Her hand went to her mouth at the name.
Willa Langston.
"My grandmother!" Shock and confusion swept over her.
What would Mr. Craig be doing writing her grandmother?! And was her name as his nurse the trigger to bring the old man to the attic?! And why upon February 14th?
The date was badly smudged on most of the letters, but a few still contained clear numbers of the year.
1973.
Before she was born.
The desire to open was intensifying by the moment. She knew opening another's mail was prohibited. Yet, her curiosity to know more nearly overpowered the confidentiality of her patient.
Upon sudden resolve, she picked up the letters, to stuff them in the box, when a clattering clank sounded from underneath the breaking lid.
Without thought, she was able to twist the lid without breaking the hinges completely to see a bright glistening sparkle under the phone light.
A ring with at least a 1 carat diamond she knew was very valuable. An obviously extravagant yet elegant engagement ring of over 45 years old! Had it been rejected my her or hesitantly neglected by him? When and how and was it meant for her grandmother?
What would come between he and his love, that he would not have the address correct, that it would return to sender?
Taking another peek at the letters, the handwriting of the words "return to sender" seemed male and scribbly as if in haste. She immediately recognized the handwriting. Her Doctor, mentor, and Grandfather. Eugene Langford.
The suspicion grew until the ambulance siren startled her to her surroundings.
"I'll bring this to the hospital". She thought. "Perhaps he might remember perhaps he might not." And her mind trailed as she found her feet to descend from the attic.
Grandfather had passed of a heart attack a few years previous, and her grandmother had been devastated.
Willa jerked to the responsibility that her very own Grandmother sat at home waiting for her return.
Dementia patients were her most difficult. She knew her Nanna had probably forgotten her previous call and was wringing her hands in anxiety of being alone, so Willa decided a quick check-in would be needed before heading to the hospital.
Pondering this recent turn of events, so many questions whizzed through her mind in a dizzying fashion!
Between Mr. Craig's fall, and a sudden meeting of Mr. Prince Charming, what a mystery! What a meeting upon this Valentine's!
------
The house was still when Willa opened the front door. Nanna had gone to bed earlier that evening leaving the lights dimly lit in the front room. Glancing at the clock, she was alarmed that it was an hour since she had stumbled across the attic light of Mr. Craig's. The lamp by Nanna’s chair was left on, and the sewing basket that always sat by her chair lay open.
However, the shock of realizing for the first time that the basket did not contain sewing paraphernalia, but rather many aging letters, was unbelievable! What timing!
“I should have known. Nanna has never sewn as long as I've known her...!” Opening the lid further, she withdrew letters that were from her grandmother. Years of wear were obvious.
Letters to none other than Mr. Craig!
The one lying open on the chair, was dated only 2 years older than the letters she had found at Jerry's house!
She had written how deeply she missed him since he had joined the military and hoped for his safe return. It was dated Valentine's day, 1971. The last line of the penning:
"I shall leave your candle lit."
The flickering in the room displayed a small candle in the window alarmingly lit. Where had Nanna gotten that!? And how did she light it!?
"Oh Nanna. I will have to hire help. You are not safe alone any more..."
How had she gone all her life without hearing about her grandmother's sweetheart?
Had she thought Jerry had died in the war and gone on with her life, marrying her grandfather? Did this mean her grandparents had settled, not truly in love? Surely not. She had witnessed the love between them. There had to have been more to this story.
A diary lay beneath the letters: one that shown obvious wear and yellowed pages.
Flipping through, she realized by word of her grandfather, that Nanna was convinced that Mr. Craig had been missing in action and was presumed dead! Why had he scribbled: “Return to sender” on all the letters? Apparently, Grandpa Eugene had an injury that prevented him from serving in the military, and he stayed behind to care for his best friend's girlfriend. It could have been he was convinced his best friend had died and knowing Eugene for who he was, he made sure to take care of his best friend's girl. What a special thought.
He had passed away! Who would know what truly transpired?!
Of all towns Nanna had moved to, and her old lover had only been 1 street away and no one knew! And the most unusual event of all: they both had been thinking of the other on the same day!
Dialing the hospital, to check on Mr. Craig, she was informed that Jerry had regained consciousness and was frantically calling for her.
Mind racing, Willa headed down the hall to check on her grandmother before leaving.
Tiptoeing, and finding her awake, she was relieved.
"I wondered when you would get here." She complained.
"Nanna, do you remember the old man with Alzheimer's I care for on some evenings?"
"Yes, you've mentioned it."
"Nanna, his name is Jerry Craig."
She had to say his name to her. And expected her response of glazed eyes and confused expressions. However, would this time be different? Would this be something familiar to her?
The little old lady's eyes grew round, and she sat up feebly. "Now what?!"
"Come with me? He had an accident. I'm going to the hospital. He is calling for Willa. The doctors think it's me. But is it possible he’s calling for you?"
Large tears gathered in her eyes. "I was thinking of him just today! He missed our date. He shall hear about this!"
Fumbling with the blankets to stand, Willa hurried to dress her and slowly made their way to the car.
So, she also was stuck fifty years into the past on a missed date that was planned on Valentine's Day 1971? Unbelievable!
"Maybe...maybe he was thinking of you too." Willa managed, remembering the dinner for two that sat untouched upon the table at Mr. Craig's.
---------
As the door swung open to his room, Willa rolled the wheelchair in hoping desperately she hadn't made a hasty decision she would regret! She was holding her breath and let it out slowly as he turned his bandaged head.
Then he saw her.
She knew by the tears in his eyes that familiarity was written there.
“Where have you been?!” his voice faltered through his tears. “I made dinner for two and I waited and waited.”
The elderly woman moved forward as if knowing she had been invited.
"Oh Gerald! I forgot your address!”
The two, smiling from ear to ear reached for the other as if they had spent their entire lives together. They spoke of the old days with such clarity of mind it was as if it had only been yesterday.
As young Willa stepped out into the hall to give them privacy, she turned hastily toward the cafeteria, and straight into a broad chested dark uniform and glanced up.
"Oh! I am so sorry!" Her face pinked.
“Is everything okay?” Jake's voice sounded concerned. “I am off duty and wanted to check in.”
“You know…" Spoke Willa with tears. “I can’t say I completely understand it, but my grandmother has dementia and remembered Jerry as her sweetheart from over 50 years ago! And Mr. Craig remembered her too with his progressive Alzheimer's! What a special relationship that must have been!”
Jake nodded. “Sometimes, when you meet the right one, they’re very hard to forget…and you find yourself planning dinner when you haven’t even asked them out yet.”
With the sparkle in his eyes, she wondered at it.
“You noticed he had made places for two at his table?” She found herself wiping tears.
“Oh, I wasn’t referring to them.” He glanced down at the bag of food he carried with a sheepish smile. “I was hoping you would be here, so I bought dinner for two.”
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