Page 22 of Softest Touch

Sissi gets out of bed and ventures into the living room before returning. She tugs at my trousers, urging me to follow her down the hallway and sits in front of my grandma's bedroom door while she tilts her head at me.

“You can't go in there. I'm sorry, princess,” I say as I pat her head. Sissi gazes at me with her lovely eyes and whimpers. In a blink of an eye, she leaps onto the door, opening it, and then dashes inside. “Sissi, come here!” I demand, but a noise gives me the courage to cross the threshold.

My grandmother's perfume wafts through the air, unmistakable and comforting. The room looks the same: her clothes neatly folded on the chair, the blanket covering only half of the bed because she had seen it done that way on a European television program, the curtains slightly parted, and her book resting on the bedside table alongside her glasses.

If only you knew how much I miss you, Grandma.

Sissi hops onto the bed, wagging her tail, inadvertently knocking the book off the bedside table and onto the floor.

“Down! Get down right now!” I yell at her, and Sissi scurries out of the room. After straightening the bed, I retrieve the book, and a letter slips from its pages onto the floor. I glance at it before picking it up. Overwhelmed with curiosity, I sit on the armchair and open it.

“Sweet Melinda,

If you are reading this letter, it means that my sixth sense still works. When the time comes, you feel it, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Some things don't change, do they?

Oh, baby, there are so many things I would like to tell you, so many things I put off simply because I thought I had more time. I know how you feel right now, and please don't feel guilty. It's not your fault, baby girl. My time came.

Deep down, a part of me left when your parents died. You, my little princess, gave me the spark of life I needed, and I'm so grateful to have had you by my side all these years. You have always been more positive and optimistic than me. You always found a way to make me smile even when I was sad, and I never thanked you.

Thank you for being stronger than me when your parents left us. Thank you for teaching me that obstacles can be overcome, even when they seem insurmountable. Thank you for letting me win at every game we've played, even though I was terrible at some. But above all, thank you for making me feel like a mother again.

I don't want to see you cry. I know you're doing it now, so please stop! Sadness doesn't suit your beautiful soul, so don't be sad. Life is too short to waste time. You have a life full of happiness ahead.

I was so lucky to see you succeed in every challenge life has placed before you and become the strong and talented woman you are. I've seen you fall in love, and yes, I embarrassed you in front of your boyfriend. That's what grandmothers do, right?

Oh, how I laughed when I told Derek all about your childhood adventures. Remembering our best moments and the craziest ones made me feel so good and realize how fortunate I am.

Derek is a keeper, and he loves you dearly. I'm sure he has realized by now just how unique you are, and I know you'll be the happiest and most loved woman on this earth. As it should be.

Please don't let that wonderful sparkle within you fade, baby. Live your life and pursue your dreams. I'll always be by your side to cheer you on.

I love you,

Your crazy Granny J.”

I clutch the letter to my chest, squeezing it as if she were here. The tears won't stop flowing, even though I try to hold them back. Sissi rushes to my side, and I embrace her, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Are you all right, baby?” Derek's voice reaches me. He stands just outside the room, his eyes full of concern as he watches me. Waiting.

I get up and hug him. “I love you,” I whisper as his grip tightens around me.

“Me too, Melinda. I love you so much, baby.” When our lips meet, my heart explodes in my chest, making me feel alive.

Derek walks me to the couch and holds me in his arms. We don't speak; he gives me all the time I need to calm down, and eventually, I do.

“How was your day?” I finally ask him.

“I couldn't wait to come home.”

Snuggling into his arms makes me feel safe. “There's no need to worry about me, Derek. I'm fine.”

“I know, honey.”

“How messy are things at work?”

His hand brushes over my arm in slow motion. “Everything is okay. We've started talking about the fall-winter collection for next year.”

“Oh, interesting...”