Her answers were dead ends. I was about to let it go when the check arrived. I reached for it instinctively, but before I could pay, Hyacinth whispered something to the waiter and stood up abruptly.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, flashing me a quick smile. “Just need to use the restroom.”
I watched her walk away, my stomach sinking. Something wasn’t right. Minutes passed. Then more minutes. She didn’t return. The waiter hovered, and with a sigh, I handed over my card. The total was outrageously high. Frustration bubbled inside me.
As I reached the exit, I heard a voice behind me.
“Rufus, wait!”
I turned, ready to snap, but stopped short. There was Hyacinth, holding a large cake and a cluster of colorful balloons. She was grinning, a mix of nervousness and triumph on her face.
Before I could say a word, she blurted, “You’re going to be a granddad!”
For a moment, I just stared at her, the words not registering. “A… granddad?” I repeated, stunned.
She laughed, the balloons bobbing above her. “Yes! I wanted to surprise you!” She held up the cake, decorated with “Congrats, Grandpa!” in blue and pink icing.
“You… planned this?” I asked, still processing.
She nodded, sheepishly. “The waiter was in on it. I wanted to make it special, but I guess I made it more awkward than anything. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
The pieces clicked into place. Her nervous energy, the strange behavior—it was all for this. Warmth spread through me, replacing my frustration.
“You’re serious?” I asked, my voice cracking a little.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I know we haven’t always been close, Rufus, but I want you to be part of this. My life. The baby’s life.”
Her words hit me like a wave. The years of distance and tension between us suddenly seemed small, less important.
I looked at the cake, then at her, and found it hard to speak. My chest tightened with emotions I hadn’t let myself feel in years.
“Hyacinth…” I began, but my voice faltered. Instead, I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened at first, then melted into it.
We walked out of the restaurant together, the balloons swaying in the cool night air.
“So,” I asked, a real smile creeping across my face, “When’s the big day?”
“Six months,” she grinned. “Plenty of time to prepare, Grandpa.”
I laughed, a lightness settling in my chest. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like a distant stepdad. I felt like family.