It seemed like years since Jean had been here. It seemed like he let his lover down, by not visiting him. But he was here now, and that's all that mattered. He let his cane fall as he went down on one knee in front of the stone and rested a wrinkled hand on the smooth surface. Jean reached up and removed his hat and placed it on the ground beside him. He balding head and white hair were a sign of a long happy life. A long happy life he spent with his lover. The stone before him said, Marco Kirschstein, 1926-2012. A beloved man and the power to bring anyone together. Jean smiled as he placed a red rose on the stone and grabbed his cane, rising shakily.
"Grandpa! Is that Grandpa Marco?!" A voice called behind him.
Jean turned to see a older boy with a younger boy walking up to him. One of them had messy black hair with a spray of freckled across his face and the younger one and an elongated face with moussy brown and blonde hair. The old man smiled as the stopped before him and looked at the stone with the rose on it. He nodded, "Yep.. This was your Grandpa Marco."
The eldest boy smiled and looked down at the younger boy, "Yea..You probably don't remember much about Grandpa Marco, Axel. You were young when he passed."
Axel puffed his cheek out and looked up at the older boy, "I remember him! He'd always give me candy and money when I was good!"
Jean chuckled at the two as he grabbed his hat and plopped it on Axel's head. "You remind me of myself when I was your age, Axel. It seems years ago, but I always had your spunk."
Axel giggled, "Yea!"
The eldest boy looked at his grandfather, "How did you and Grandpa Marco meet? You've never told us the story. I've always been rather interested in how."
Jean stared as his grandson before giving him a smile, "Well...Since you're here for a little bit of the summer, I guess now would be a good time to tell you the story. I got nothing better to do. I'll tell you over some sandwiches. How's that sound?"
The boys nodded and walked after their grandfather to the old truck that Jean had, had for years. Even getting in the truck brought back many memories of Marco. The roar of the engine, mixed with the laughter of Marco as Jean was shot with black muck and smoke. To Marco crying about his mother's death. Everything reminded him of Marco. Driving down the country road and looking to his right, he could still picture Marco with his head resting in his arms and a smiled on his face as the wind blew through his dark hair. Everything around Jean had some remembrance of Marco on them. Sometimes he would even smell his scent in the bed, or in the truck at random moments.
Jean turned on a dirt road and to a old, white house. It was a two story house with an antique kind of look to it. Him and Marco had chosen it together. It was the fourth house they'd lived together in. They had gotten tired of the city life and wanted a place where there was plenty of country and fresh air. They'd chosen it right after they found out Marco had cancer. The doctor had told them that the best thing for Marco was fresh air.
Pulling into the driveway and in front of the house, Axel crawled out of the truck and ran to the porch, "C'mon Grandpa! I wanna know the rest of the story!"
Jean chuckled as the eldest assisted him out of the truck, "Thank you, Max."
MAx looked to his younger brother, "Hold on Axel! Grandpa isn't as young as he used to be!" Jean laughed aloud and closed the door behind him as he and Max made their way to the porch, "That may be true, but this old man still makes a mean roast beef sandwich."
Max smiled at him and helped him up as Axel ran in kicking his shoes off excitedly.
"Calm down now, Axel, we're going to make the sandwiches and then sit down, okay?" Jean chuckled as he hobbled to the kitchen. Max followed after and got cups out of the cabinet. Pulling them out, he poured soda in them and set them on the table.
After a few moments, Jean had the sandwiches done and set them on the table next to cups of soda. "Alright boys! Wash up and come eat!"
The sound of running water and arguing on who would sit where and who would finish their sandwiches first. Jean smiled and walked to his chair as he pulled it out and sat down. Looking up, he could still see MArco sitting across from him, a goofy smile on his face and telling him about how he was. Jean extended his hand as the Marco he was seeing before him did the same. His fingers brushed Marco's as a voice broke, "Grandpa… Are you alright?"
Jean blinked out of his trance and looked at his grandchild standing there. Hit hat still on Axel's head and a concerned look on his face. "Axel you left wa-... Grandpa? You okay?"
Max looked just as concerned and Jean stared at the eldest grandson. It was just like a reflection of Marco before him. "Yea.. I'm alright. Come and sit down boys, and i'll start the story about when we first met."
The boys did so and looked to their grandfather as he inhaled with a smile, "I'll never forget the day I first saw your grandfather… I didn't think much of him at first.. But after we worked together for a while… There was something there that i'd never felt before."