Paula, the 16 year-old granddaughter arrived. Alone.

Her dad, pink slip sweating in his hand, breathed down-sizing air. The timing was lousy. Florida was cancelled.

But it was decided. Paula would fly. Alone.

Granpa was not happy about all of that. He wanted them all there. He didn't know what to do with a teenager, even though Paula and he had always been friends. When grandma was alive, she did the feelings. Granpa supplied the laughs and the money. Girding himself for Paula, he missed his dead Sarah. Alone.

Paula put her stuff in her room and said, "I want to go to the pool, Granpa? I brought 4 bathing suits." "You're only going to be here 4 days, so that should be enough." Granpa rounded up the sun screen and the towels and waited for Paula. And thought about Sarah, his swimmer. Alone.

In her two piece bikini, Paula startled him. How stunning this granddaughter was. "That bathing suit fits you like the designer knew you by your first name. He certainly knew how beautiful you are. Like Grandma was," he added. "Oh, gramps, you old flatterer. I got this one at Goodwill. Cheap." "You're my kind of girl, Paula. I could never see spending money on clothes. No moving parts. They never need fan belts." Alone.

The sun burning like the heater in a pickup truck, the cement steaming. Paula turned a few polite heads, and granpa proudly introduced her to his cronies. "She's not only beautiful. She's smart, too." Paula dove into the pool, her body knifing the water, splashless. Alone.

Later, they cooked together. He read her poetry while they ate, and they watched Jeopardy side by side, and decided that with a little more practice they'd try and get on the show, hell they knew the answers. The sun had made her sleepy, she called home, laughed her private jokes, brushed her teeth, flossed, squeezed a blackhead, and asked him to hold her hand and read her a story, like he used to when she was little. Not alone.

Their second night together he asked her some brave questions, and she in turn asked him two big ones, her eyes hard on him. "What is it like without grandma, gramps? Are any widows nibbling at you? I sure would." At that, they both cried for a while, soft as petals falling from Sarah's roses. Granpa found the first words out of the tears. "I may reach out for company, Paula, maybe even for touch. It does get lonely. But I know I will never find love again. I had that first class with your grandma. You don't get it twice." Alone.

The four days went faster than palmetto bugs at midnight, and all the bathing suits got worn and admired. Paula made everyone think about their youth and about love. She was a tonic to the entire condominium. Granpa seemed to grow younger. He basked in the notion that when he got really old, Paula would be there. She'd hold his hand and read him a story before he closed his eyes on the night he would die. Never alone.

- The End -