Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“I see.” John can clearly tell there’s more coming. At his age, he’s learned patience.
“In his letter, he told me about his best friend. I never met him. I never even knew about him. They had a job where…where they couldn’t really talk much about it. Anyway, this friend stopped doing what they were doing—I don’t know if retired is the right word—a few months before my brother wrote the letter. I know I’m not going to make any sense, but basically, he told me he wanted me to find his best friend and look after him.”
“Oh. Oh, I see. That’s quite a thing to ask.”
I haven’t told him the most shocking part. Maybe I don’t want to admit to myself that my brother would ask me to do it.
I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who I thought would be a better match for you in every way. Give happiness a shot because life is far too short, and it runs out on all of us sooner than we’ll ever think.
“His best friend never had anyone, I guess. He had no family, not even when he was young. He’s alone. Without Jace, I’m an only child, but I’ve always had my parents and my friends.”
“He no doubt wanted you both to find happiness and give it a real shot.”
Yes, he said that. Almost word for word. It was a little bit jarring to hear it from the mouth of a stranger.
I know this might be a touch crazy and a whole lot idealistic, but you’re two people I care about very much. I’m worried about you both. If you can find love, give it a shot. With each other. Nothing would make me happier than if you both got married and made a go of it. Have a family. Be each other’s best friend. Be each other’s special person. Learn to love him if you can. He’ll learn to love you the same. I know it.
Something about this sweet old man prompts me to tell the truth. “I think I’m going to San Jose to marry a man I’ve never even met just because my brother thought it would work out. It’s kind of his last wish ever, so how can I not do it?”
John clears his throat. “Goodness. In my day, a quick courtship wasn’t so unheard of because, you know, the urgency and all that. People burned the same back then, but it was frowned upon to do it before marriage, so marriages happened toot suite, and once you got married, you tried your darndest to make it work. It was a different time. The world seemed different. Maybe it was. I married my Maybel three months after we first met. She was beautiful. Just wonderful. She was, and always will be, the best woman I’ve ever known. We had a lot of good years together, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Sixty-some years of marriage isn’t easy. A single year isn’t easy. A single day, sometimes. You just have to take it as it comes.
“I don’t know about marrying someone just because your brother wants it, but I can say that nowadays, divorce is much easier. You could give it a go, just to say you did. Who knows? Maybe it’ll work out. I’ve heard of worse things. Things like apps that order dates to your door. Maybel would have said that was for hussies—man or woman. She would have said it was hussy-like behavior, and being a hussy was right at the top of her shitlist. She didn’t like fast men or fast women. She slapped me a good one the first time I ever tried to kiss her, and then she told me that I wasn’t getting any of her milk until I bought the cow. It just made me laugh and laugh and laugh while she turned eight shades of red. I never let her forget it. I don’t think she could ever look at milk in any form the same way again.” After saying all that, his face changes. He’s still happy, but the wistfulness and all the love is there. “Goodness, I miss her. It’s been nearly three years, but you never get used to it. I know I shouldn’t talk about dying because it upsets people, but if what comes after is as good as people say it is, I’ll be right glad to see her again—however it comes.”
It’s a nice thought. Not one I really believe in, but I’m not going to tell him that. I’m not going to spoil anything. There’s a huge part of me that wishes it could be real—seeing people again, knowing them. It’s more than a nice thought. If that could happen, I wish it for everyone, no matter what form it would take.