Constance approached the man with more nervousness than when she had last faced a werewolf. She’s been burnt before. A part of her whispered that no one wanted her and that she was unloved, just a planned weapon designed by fate to accompany a powerful being. This was her last relative here, alive, at least in direct line. If he didn’t like her… and why would he like her? The voice urged, insistent. She was an adult grandchild. Alexander had just been married to a much younger woman. He didn’t need her. She was a complication. A burden. She had always been a burden.
The man turned. He was tall, with a graying beard and bubbly eyes that found her easily on the train platform. His entire face lit up with wonder and a sense of awkward longing. She realized it probably mirrored her own expression. He moved forward as she did, hesitantly. She paused in front of him but he did not. Strong arms pulled her up and forward in a bear hug. He smelled of soap and a hint of cologne. A good one. He was very warm.
Something broke inside of Constance but in a good way. Like a dam filled with lava, the caustic spill left her and behind there was a cool emptiness like rain on a smoldering forest. Constance choked out an awful sound that was too brittle and weak for an adult woman. The best hug disappeared, replaced by a worried gaze. It was a little wet as well.
“Sorry! So sorry! Too strong?”
“No, no. I just… could use more hug, I think.”
“Of course!”
There was more hug and it was everything Constance hopes for.
“I must say, when I learnt… oh but it was so late. I wish I had known before,” Alexander mumbled.
“So did I…”
“You can be sure I have given Ariane a stern talking to!”
“Did she pinch her lips and look down? In that way she has of being angry to be told off…”
“Yet her values prevent her from deflecting blame when it is earned. Yes.”
They parted and smiled. It was the same crooked, self-deprecating smile Constance had cultivated. Alexander Bingle’s smile was deeper with a little more bite to it. There was a scar on his lower lip, drowned in the beard. He had seen things.
“Come let’s not linger here. There were many grandfatherly things I was planning to do.”
“Ariane mentioned shooting with a rifle?”
“Pah! Of course she would. I was hoping for something that allows for more discussions. Like fishing! There is a lake nearby, a private one actually. The owner owes me his life. What do you say about a bit of angling?”
“I have no idea how to do that!”
“Perfect. I can teach you then. Come on! And tell me about that boyfriend of yours?”
“He is not! I fear he comes with too much… baggage.”
“Ah, but most people do!”
***
Constance had a great time fishing though they didn’t catch much. Fishes enjoyed the silence while her grandfather did not, and she didn’t mind. The spring weather was nice enough. A light wind from the south sent ripples over the placid surface of the water, rustling the ferns as it went. Alexander has stories. So many stories. He would stop and blush worriedly during certain ‘encounters’ Constance imagined he meant in a biblical sense. She gave him a knowing look although she had not found her loved one yet. If anything, her agreement with Ariane granted her the time to choose wisely. Her grandfather brought out fresh bread and jerky from a satchel which they shared over the afternoon. The topic turned to Constance and her studies, her dreams, then to her mother. Grandfather was inconsolable.
“I went to see her, but…”
He shook his head, ashamed.
“If only I had known her sooner.”
“Some people just need a hand, others will never try.”
This killed the mood a little, which meant that she got her first catch soon after.
“Don’t fight it or you’ll snap the line! Let it tire itself out!”
Constance managed her fish with her grandfather’s hands on her shoulders guiding her. She grabbed it from the ground where it flipped ineffectively, but her grandfather was silent. She turned. He had his gaze fixed on the far shore.
There, a great stag waited and he had saddlebags on his flanks. The incongruous sight was enough for the fish to splash back into the pond.
“What manner of lunatics uses venison as transportation? I must know!”
Constance felt the onset of a great silliness in the depth of her marrow. She was pulled forward, still able to resist, yet she knew her grandfather would not let it go. And she wanted to spend time with him, so, surely this counted?
They chased after it.
***
“And I felt I could step aside and say no but… I would have missed something.”
Ariane nodded.
“Is it the same for you?” Constance asked.
“Yes.”
“And you let it happen?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever regretted it?”
“Never in the long run. I always gained something, and stopped Bingle from losing something. Besides…”
“It was fun.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did I hear that you once threw an entire table through a window once because a Bingle happened?”
“Because,” Ariane pointedly replied, “they should not have to ruin my weekend just to improve my life. “