Yay! Another one!

Enjoy!

Jerome jumped into the dining room. It was Saturday and he was in a particularly good mood. His blue eyes landed on Mara he clapped, pointing at her, and getting her attention.

"Jaffray,"

She copied his action. "Clarke,"

"How would you like to visit a person or two with me today?" he asked, taking his seat at the table.

She brushed her black hair over her shoulder and smiled. "What kind of person or two?"

"Are these people dead?" Eddie asked, spooning cereal into his mouth.

"Oh, man, I hope not." Jerome swallowed. "We'd go to see my grandparents."

"Oh, sure, I'd love to." She said happily.

"Alright, we'll leave at ten." He told her, and dug into his breakfast.

"So, here are a few things you should know about my grandparents," Jerome started.

He and Mara were seated in the back of a taxi cab, a few minutes away from his grandparents' small home on the other side of town. Mara watched him with a small smile. When he mentioned them, his face would light up with happiness. She couldn't wait to meet them; meeting the grandparents was the step after meeting the parents, and she'd only met Jerome's father.

He continued, once he knew she was listening to him, "My grandma loves to cook, and she loves to feed you. Trust me on this one; she's always trying to fatten me up. So if she offers you a cookie, or coffee; absolutely, accept it. But if she offers you anything larger than that, do not take it. She'll keep feeding you because you want more and more. I swear, she puts drugs in that food of hers." He shook his head with a smile.

Mara chuckled, but she believed her boyfriend completely.

"My grandfather loves telling stories, from when he was seven years old to when I was seven years old. He tells as many stories as he can to you while you're visiting, and when you come back, he doesn't remember that he told you those stories. Some of them are completely pointless—just memories; but others have some serious life lessons in them and you need to listen to those stories."

"You love your grandparents don't you?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, when I didn't go home during the summer and holidays, they took me in. Without my grandfather, I would not be who I am today." He explained, running a hand through his dirty-blonde hair.

When the cab pulled up to a small white cottage, Jerome paid the driver and held the door open for Mara. The house was warm and welcoming. Green flower boxes hung under the two front windows with pink and yellow flowers flowing out of them. The path way to the green door were old red bricks and the garden in the freshly trimmed yard was spotted with yellow, orange, pink, and purple flowers and small bushes.

"Cute little place isn't it? I think it's a bit cliché, but my grandmother loves flowers." Jerome chuckled.

"And your grandfather, what does he think of the flowers?" Mara wondered with a delicate eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. "He loves my Gran."

Mara grinned.

He pulled the door open and held it open for her, letting her enter the house first. As soon as the door had opened, she had sensed the aroma of snicker doodles. Now, the smell was intoxicating. Mara inhaled deeply.

"That smells delicious." She breathed.

"Great, snicker doodles," he groaned. "If she asks for information on anything, and gives me snicker doodles, I'd sing like a canary. That's why I'd never be able to be a government agent; snicker doodles are my weakness. Don't tell anyone about that."

"Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. But I might have to use that on you later…" she drifted off thoughtfully.

"Don't you dare." He warned playfully, grabbing her sides.

"Jerome, no—" she gasped. She laughed when his long fingers started to travel up and down her sides.

She tried to push him away but he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her back into him.

"Give up, babe." He widened his blue eyes at her and she giggled, staring back at him with her brown eyes wide as well.

"Eugy?" a woman's voice called from down the small hallway behind Mara.

"'Eugy'," Mara asked skeptically.

"Shut up," he said simply and let her waist go, brushing past her and wrapping an eighty-nine year old woman up in a hug. "Hey, Granny May!"

"What a surprise," she chuckled, pulling away from him, patting his chest with her frail hand.

She was thin and her skin was pale, just like all the Clarke's were, and her graying blonde hair fell to her shoulders. Her green eyes reminded Mara of Poppy's, and they held the same spark of excitement as the younger Clarke's did. Mara noted that the woman, though old, also seemed so full of life.

"What do you mean 'surprise'? I called and told you I was coming." Jerome defended himself.

"No, you brought a girl with you. You didn't say you were going to do that. I could have made her something to eat."

"I'm sure the snicker doodles will be just fine, Gran." He assured her.

"But what if she doesn't like snicker doodles?"

"As we were coming in, she said they smell delicious." He told her.

Without another word, his grandmother pushed past him and was beside Mara in an instant. She pulled her into a loving hug and then smiled at her warmly. "Would you like a cup of tea and cookies, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, that'd be great, thank you." Mara nodded, smiling, showing off her pearly white teeth.

"Excuse us, Eugy." May pulled Mara by the wrist down the hallway and into the kitchen while Mara mouthed the nickname to him again.

"Fine, then, I'll just go talk to grandpa. He won't shut me out for cookies and tea." He grumbled, turning into the living room. "Hey, grandpa," he grinned, leaning down to hug him.

The ninety-six year old man patted his grandson the back. "Jerome, how are you?"

"Pretty good—"

"Grades," the man cut him off.

"A lot better, I'm proud to say. Mara's been helping me out—"

"Who's Mara?"

"Would you stop cutting me off?" Jerome requested.

"Sorry, sorry, go ahead." His grandfather laughed.

"Thank you. Hold on a second," the blonde chuckled and turned to the kitchen, calling out to his girlfriend and asking her to come into the room.

She appeared a moment later and smiled kindly at the old man on the other side of the room. "Hi,"

"Grandpa, this is Mara, my girlfriend. Jaffray, this is my grandfather, Matthew Clarke." He introduced them, hands resting on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

Mara reached out a hand and shook Matthew's.

"You're dating my grandson?" he asked with his eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

Mara nodded silently, suddenly feeling very nervous.

"But…why? You're beautiful, and you're dating him?" he chuckled, jerking his thumb in Jerome's direction.

"Hey," Jerome protested, but he couldn't hold back the laugh that his grandfather's teasing caused.

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing." Mara whispered.

Matthew let out a hearty laugh. "I like you."

Mara smiled. "It's nice to meet you; Jerome hasn't stopped talking about you and your wife all day."

"Yes, I expected as much; we are very popular after all. It's very nice to meet you as well." he grinned.

"That was confirmation that he's your grandfather." She told Jerome with a teasing smile.

"Oh, come on, I'm nothing like him." He scoffed.

Mara blinked. "Are you kidding me?"

"Ha-ha," he breathed sarcastically and sat down on the on sofa next to his grandfather's chair, pulling Mara with him.

"So you're the girl that's helping my grandson with his school work, eh? How stupid is he, really?" Matthew smirked.

The man was a few inches taller than his wife and he had white hair and glowing blue eyes. Like Jerome's, they were mischievous and playful.

"He's very smart actually, but he chooses to focus all that intelligence on pranks instead of school."

"What prank did you pull this week?" he asked his grandson, eyes narrowed in his direction.

"Smoke bomb in the gym when a game of dodge ball was taking place," Jerome replied proudly, reminiscing the event that had taken place yesterday.

Matthew's stern expression dissolved and was replaced with a look of acceptance. "Very nice," he complimented.

Mara's eyebrows raised in shock. He encouraged that sort of behavior? Jerome looked down at her with a smirk.

"Try and defy my grandfather." he said with a wiggle of his dark eyebrows.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed at her as she tried to glare, but to him, it was just an adorable pout.

"I've got tea and cookies," May sang, bustling into the room. The tray she set on the coffee table was white with small, pink flower on green vines lined the rim.

"Gran, did you dig out the china just for tea?" Jerome asked incredulously.

"Of course not; we have a guest." she reminded him as if he didn't remember the girl sitting next to him, holding his hand tightly.

"But you've never done that before."

"Is it so bad that I want to treat your girlfriend to a nice tea? I don't want to use our ugly coffee mugs."

"Oh, that's what this is about…" he muttered with a roll of his blue eyes.

"What?" Mara wondered, brown eyes flitting between the two.

"She's all excited that I have a girlfriend. So she's making sure that she doesn't mess up and make you hate me." He replied with a shrug.

"You don't have to go through all that trouble. If I have to sip tea out of a coffee mug, it's not going to make me hate you or Jerome. I drink my tea out of an old coffee mug that my dad gave me a few years ago. It doesn't matter to me." She denied with a shake of her head.

"Oh, no, it's no trouble at all," May assured her. "I want you to have the best possible visit. I'd love for you to come back."

"I'd still come back."

"She will, Gran; you don't need to worry about this." Jerome cut in.

"Yes, darling, don't fret; Mara's a sweet girl. She'll be back." Matthew chuckled, shifting in his chair slightly so he could take the tea his wife held out to him.

"Well, okay…" May murmured. She motioned to the freshly baked snicker doodles on the tray. "Eugy, would you like a cookie."

Jerome gazed down at the cookies and caved, reaching forward and grabbing one, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth.

"Jerome Clarke," Mara and May scolded simultaneously.

Jerome and Matthew looked at the two with wide, identical eyes.

"That's not a good thing," Jerome stated around the cookie in his mouth.

"Too true, my boy." the old man said quietly with a nod of agreement.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Japan and I was bitten by a snake?" Matthew asked.

They had finished their tea an hour ago and were now laughing about the past. Mara had realized that Matthew took pleasure in embarrassing Jerome at every chance he got. He had told several embarrassing stories about Jerome during tea and Mara could barely sip her tea, she was laughing so hard.

"No," she smiled; shaking her head, black hair swishing around her tan face.

"Well, I didn't have enough money for a room at a ryokan; I was basically hitchhiking in a foreign country. I was nineteen at the time, I believe. So as the sun was setting, I was walking down this random street on the outskirts of Misawa, which was where I was headed. So one of my habits, well at that time, I stopped after this happened; one of my habits was whistling, and I would do it when I got bored. All I did was start whistling, and not ten minutes later, a snake comes slithering onto the road and pops its darned little head at me and bites my hand.

"I hadn't even seen it until it happened. I didn't know what kind of snake it was, but my goodness, that bite hurt like hell. Now, something you should know is that sucking the poison out of the bite thing doesn't work. If you're bitten by poisonous snake or bug or something, the poison is already in your blood and there's little you can do; especially in my predicament. But the snake wasn't poisonous, I could tell. If you're bitten by a poisonous snake, there are these symptoms, which I had none. But if you don't treat wounds they can get affected, right? Right. But I was a good few miles away from the city, so I didn't want to wait." He stopped speaking and scratched his cheek.

Mara watched him, waiting for the ending of the story, but Jerome spoke up.

"The lesson in that story is to never whistle at night while in Japan, it'll attract snakes."

Mara nodded with a small smile.

"Well," Jerome sighed, glancing at his watch with a disappointed frown. "We have to be going. I told Trudy we'd be out for a few hours, and it's been a bit longer than that; she must be freaking out."

"Oh, well, come back soon, yeah?" Matthew asked with a cheerful smile, standing up to hug his grandson and welcome Mara into one as well after they hugged May goodbye.

"Of course," Mara promised.

"I'll see you later, grandpa," Jerome said as May left the room.

"I tease you, but I really do love you, my boy. I'm very proud of you. Make sure you take care of her. I like her."

"She's actually taking care of me, but I will. I promise. I love you, too."

Matthew gazed at him and then his eyes flitted to Mara. "I never thought I'd live long enough to see you in love."

Jerome looked down and swallowed.

"Jerome, what have I said?"

Jerome smirked. "Take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt—"

"Because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back." Matthew finished.

Mara smiled, taking Jerome's hand as he led her out of the house.

"So…"

"I love them," she promised, and he smiled, kissing her cheek lovingly.

"Hey, why does your grandmother call you Eugy?" Mara asked, peeling an orange at the breakfast table.

"Oh, yeah, my middle name is Eugene, and very early in my life she started calling me Eugy, making it a nickname only she can use." Jerome replied with a roll of his eyes, and the teens around the table chuckled. "How would you like to visit them today?"

"Already," Mara laughed. "We just went yesterday!"

"I thought you said you'd like to visit again."

"I'm kidding, Jerome, I'd love to go again."

"Awesome, we'll leave—" he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket.

The others around the table looked up at him briefly and then went back to their breakfast.

"It's Poppy," Jerome told Mara. "Hey, Poopster," he said into the phone and Mara rolled her brown eyes. His cheerful smile dropped from his face and Mara watched him worriedly. He stood up slowly, backing his chair away from the table, and he went into the kitchen, his back to the dining room. "What do you mean?"

"What's wrong?" Fabian wondered to the group.

"What?" Jerome's voice cracked and Mara stood, hurrying into the kitchen to stand by his side. Jerome Clarke's voice never cracked.

He breathed out slowly, keeping his head down, his shoulders tense. "Thanks, Poppy, I'll meet you at the airport in the morning…I love you, too…hey, sis, keep your chin up…" he said with fake happiness.

"I wish you'd follow your own advice," Poppy said sternly from the other line, tears obvious in her voice.

"...yeah, I wish I could, too…bye." He ended the call and leant his elbows on the counter, gripping the ends of his blonde hair.

"Jerome, you're scaring me; what's wrong?" Mara demanded.

"Um, forget about the visit." He ground out, standing straight again, but his shoulders still slumped.

"Why?"

"My grandfather's not gonna be there." He replied, his voice broken. He left the room in a flash, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

When what he said sunk in, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"What happened?" Joy asked.

Mara placed a hand on her rapidly beating heart, tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't think Jerome's grandfather made it through the night."

Jerome opened the door. Mara stood on the other side with bloodshot eyes, hugging herself.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly.

He nodded and opened the door a little wider so she could step in. She stood by the door as he packed his suitcases. A plane ticket sat on his nightstand.

"Would it be horrible if I came along?" she spoke up.

Jerome turned to her. "What?"

She held up a plane ticket with a small, sheepish smile. "I'll wake you up in time for the flight."

"That'd be amazing, thank you, Jaffray." He hugged her tightly.

"Of course," she whispered into his shoulder, threading her long fingers into his hair, and kissing his cheek.

Mara sat on the edge of her hotel bed. She, Jerome, Poppy, and John Clarke had landed in Ireland only an hour ago. She had been holding in the tears pretty well, every once and a while, she'd break down and hide herself from everyone. She knew that Jerome was going to break down soon as well.

And her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a soft knock on her hotel door. She opened it without looking through the peephole and Jerome looked at the floor. He always hated looking weak. But he still let her see him like this, as a sign of trust.

"I can't sleep." He croaked; in his blue and red pajama pants and red jumper.

Mara nodded, wrapping an arm around his torso and leading him into the room. "I know."

She locked the door and Jerome's arms wrapped around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Sobs shook his body and she felt tears come to her eyes. She backed up to the bed and lied down. He rested his head on her shoulder, arm swung across her stomach. Silently, tears streamed down his pale face, wetting her shirt and her neck, but she didn't even notice. He continued to let out his sorrow, taking deep breaths when he started losing air from his sobbing.

Soon, he stopped crying, but Mara knew it was because he had just cried all he could. He tilted his head up and looked at her with his bloodshot, blue eyes. They were still the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. She brushed his blonde bangs across his forehead.

"Oh, my darling," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled sitting up and wiping his eyes.

"It's okay, Jerome; I understand." She promised him. She gently stroked his cheek with her fingers. "I would do anything to bring him back for you."

"I know you would." He pressed his thin lips together tightly.

Jerome stood up on shaky legs. He peeled the duvet away from the mattress and lifted it to cover his girlfriend.

"Jerome, would you like to stay here tonight?" she asked quietly.

He nodded and climbed in next to her, pressing his lips to her forehead. He laid back and she rested her head on his chest.

"Remember what he said?" she tested in a soft voice. "'Take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt…'"

"'…because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.'" He finished, his voice heartbreakingly torn.

"He wouldn't want you to be so upset."

"I know; but I can't help it. I just saw him the other day and he was happy and healthy and…everything was perfect. I feel like my whole world has crashed down around me; like, you're the only thing that is still right in my life."

Mara remained quiet, letting him pour out his feelings. She knew he needed to. He rarely did that, and this would be good for him.

"When I was like, ten, he tried to convince me that one day I'd fall in love; and every time he said that, I believed him, but I still thought, 'how could anyone love a failure like me?' And then I met you." A small, shy smile slipped onto his face. "And I tried so hard; I believed him with everything I had, but you kept saying no. And the same thought went through my head, every time, 'how could anyone love a failure like me?'" Mara swallowed; she felt horrible, she had no idea he felt like that when she had turned him down all those times. "Then, you said yes, and I just thought it was because I annoyed you so much about it." Mara sat up and looked at him, black hair framing her flawless face. "But then, you said you love me, and all my doubts and fears completely disappeared…."

Mara smiled and ran a finger down his cheek. She leaned down and kissed him gently. "I love you."

"Oh, honey," May whispered sorrowfully, wrapping her frail arms around her grandson's neck. "And Mara?"

"She tagged along." Jerome smiled.

"Thank you for coming, dear." The woman hugged Mara tightly and she held her back, a tear slipping down her cheek. She knew that Matthew's death must have taken so much out of everyone at the funeral. The lobby had been swarming with people, and the room ahead had many more. Matthew must have known many people; and left an impact on all of them.

"Come on, the ceremony is about to start." May led them to the front and Jerome sat down next to her, gripping Mara's hand tightly.

As people gave small speeches about how much the man had done in their lives, Mara could tell Jerome was itching to do the same, but couldn't find the strength. The crowd was asked if anyone else would like to say something, Mara placed a kiss on his cheek and stood up. He perked up and she stood in front of the mourners with a hesitant smile.

"I'm speaking on behalf of Jerome Clarke; I'm his girlfriend, Mara Jaffray. I didn't really know Matthew too well; I only met him a few days ago. But I know how much he meant to Jerome—to everyone here. He left a bit of an impact on me as well; in the short time I'd known him, he had become like, a grandfather to me. But I don't want to mourn over the loss of this incredible man. I don't want any of you to either. He had said once, that every sixty seconds you spend upset, is a minute of happiness you never get back.

"I think we should be happy. We should be celebrating. I'm not saying that we should be happy that he's gone, but happy that he lived at all. We should celebrate his life, not mourn his death. I may have not known him as long as some of you, but I knew him long enough to know that he wouldn't want all of us to be mourning. He wouldn't want us to be upset and unhappy. He would want us to live our lives and…instead of trying to keep his memory, spread it. Tell stories of his life. He's left an impact; he's left a legacy. Let's help his legacy live on instead of being upset about the end of his life."

She smiled, thinking back to a moment from the few days before…

Matthew laughed, patting Mara's knee. "You're a very sweet girl; and pretty too. When you 'grow up'," he winked, "what would you like to do?"

"I'd like to be a doctor," she smiled.

"Oh, a doctor; well, you just keep fighting for that if it's your dream. I want to make sure you know that; don't let anyone tell you who you are or who you should be. Be yourself. Follow your dreams. Don't let someone rule your life; it's yours. Hey, look at me; people told me I wouldn't make it through life as a small business man; that I wouldn't be happy. Ha! I have a beautiful wife, two sons, two daughters, twelve amazing grandchildren, and 8 perfect great-grandchildren. I don't need anything else." He grinned.

"He lived a wonderful life and he was a wonderful man. He deserves a celebration, not a period of mourning." She finished.

She stepped down from the podium and wrapped her arms around Jerome's shoulders as she sat down; she kissed his cheek.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he whispered as the ceremony continued.

She smiled at him.

"Grandpa really liked you, you know." Jerome stated.

He was seated on a bench in the garden of the funeral hall. He could feel Mara's gaze on him. He guessed that she must have searched the whole garden for him; he had walked around the garden for ten minutes, just to find a quiet, secluded spot away from everyone else.

The sky was clear and the day was bright, like nothing was wrong. It was nothing like the movies; when someone important dies, then it's raining and everything is dark and gloomy. And Jerome hated it.

"I really liked him. I wish I would've known him longer." She replied, sitting down next to him cautiously.

"You would have gotten really attached. He was really good at getting people hooked on knowing him and then would reel them in just to tell his stories to."

She giggled and leant her head on his shoulder. "Where's Poppy?"

"Right here," she piped in, sliding onto the bench next to Mara.

Jerome groaned.

Mara ignored her boyfriend and wrapped an arm around his little sister. "Are you okay, Poppy?"

"I'm fine; I just wish I'd know grandpa longer…" she sighed.

Mara jabbed her elbow into Jerome's side and he grunted. Running a hand sideways through his dirty-blonde hair, he spoke, "Hey, Poops, you wanna hear a story?"

"What," she asked, wiping away a stray tear.

"Well, when I was like, seven, grandpa and gran and I went camping on the beach, and I got scared of like, the thought of monsters, you know, usual kid fears. Grandpa told me that if you give something scary a not-so-scary name, it won't seem so scary."

"That's what you did for me when I was little." Poppy pointed out.

"Yep...so when Mara was talking about making an impact and his legacy, he sorta did that through me, right?"

"Right," Mara smiled. "I love you guys."

"You know, I've always wanted a sister," Poppy hinted quietly.

"Poopy!" Jerome cried, a light blush tinting his pale cheeks.

"Me, too," Mara whispered to Poppy.

"Wait, what," Jerome stuttered as his sister and his girlfriend walked away, giggling.

I thought I could end that on a happy note... :)

Review?

"Take too many pictures, laugh to much, and love like you've never been hurt; because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back." -Andy Biersack

The reason behind the whole "your last goodbye" and "story of his life" thing is because I was inspired by the song In The End by BVB, which Andy had written for his grandfather, Urban Flanders, who passed away awhile ago.

A bit of BVB trivia: Urban Flanders was the narrating voice on The Outcasts (Call To Arms) from the We Stitch These Wounds album. :)

"Indians, as you fade into the night! Who will tell the story of your life? And who will remember your last goodbye?" If you get the joke in that, you're awesome and I wanna be your friend!

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. -Colossians 3:1

-Rachel