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Authors: Rebecca Forster
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touch, Kathleen. I don't want to lose the only family I have. Losing a business partner is hard but losing you again,'' He shook his head sadly, ''my only living relative. Ah, that would be such a terrible thing.''
Kathleen nodded, ''No. I mean, yes. Of course we'll stay in touch.''
'' Fine. Fine.'' Gerry kissed her cheek. ''So lovely, Kathleen. What a pleasure it would have been.''
Before she knew what was happening she was being ushered through the outer door. Before it closed, Kathleen heard her uncle ask Becky for the address of 'that old folks home' that had sent him some information. Then the door shut and Kathleen faced the elevator. If she went in, she had the funny feeling she would drop off the face of the earth.
'' Wow,'' Becky breathed, looking at the closed door. ''That was really sad.''
'' Yes, 'twas,'' Gerry agreed. ''Sad, indeed.''
' I know how much you wanted her to stay, Mr. O'Doul. I'm sorry she didn't. She seemed like a nice lady.'' Becky crumpled her mid-morning snack trash in deference to the solemn mood.
'' Oh, indeed. The best,'' Gerry agreed cheerily.
He walked back in his office and retrieved the champagne bottle and the silver bucket, ''Would you be kind enough, Becky to do something with this?''
'' Sure, Mr. O'Doul.''She scurried toward the bathroom and, when she returned, Gerry handed her Kathleen's notes.
'' And, Becky, two copies if you don't mind?''
'' Two?''
'' Yes. Two will do nicely.''
Gerry said just as the door opened. Kathleen stood there, resplendent in her simple sheath with the white piping and the champagne stain, her well cared for spectator shoes, her purse and her miserable expression.
CHAPTER THREE
The sun came through the trees like God's fingers nudging the earth awake. It was a precious moment, one he had always loved. She had watched him through this same window as he lost himself in the morning moments before getting into their little car and heading off to work.
He drove through the trees, down the windy road that led away from their house. He drove to the intersection that red-flagged civilization and finally to the freeways that took him to his good job thirty miles away. That job paid for the small, neat house off the beaten path in a canyon in the Santa Monica Mountains. It paid for the gardening tools that helped them raise their organic food, the bunnies who were their children, the short trips to Yosemite to commune with a different kind of nature.
That job paid for his past mistakes, too. He never complained about that. She adored his sense of responsibility, his ability to look behind and see what had gone wrong then look ahead to make things right. He was a man of exceptional sensitivity. He was such a good man. Gone now, he left behind an empty place in the little house and her heart. He also left behind some unfinished business she didn't understand.. She would have to take care of that business in order to keep his memory pure and to save herself. Though she was afraid to go below, she was more afraid not to. Today she would break the last corporeal tie with him and hang on to the spiritual ones.
Turning from the big window, she went to the smaller window by the fireplace and lifted the lace curtain. For a moment she looked beyond the clearing toward the rabbit hutch, even though there was no way she could see it. Perhaps a moment with them would give her courage. She bowed her head and decided not to walk in to the forest and visit with her friends. To do so would mean defeat. Her courage was ephemeral and if she didn't try it out now, this instant, she would lose it. Turning on her heel she went back toward the big window and the door beside it.
Carefully, she snuffed out the incense burning in the holder he'd made from a pine cone. It sat on the table he'd hewn out of a tree trunk. Taking another moment she closed her eyes, laid her hands across her chest and breathed in the woody scent. Tears came to her eyes though she wasn't standing
Kathleen nodded, ''No. I mean, yes. Of course we'll stay in touch.''
'' Fine. Fine.'' Gerry kissed her cheek. ''So lovely, Kathleen. What a pleasure it would have been.''
Before she knew what was happening she was being ushered through the outer door. Before it closed, Kathleen heard her uncle ask Becky for the address of 'that old folks home' that had sent him some information. Then the door shut and Kathleen faced the elevator. If she went in, she had the funny feeling she would drop off the face of the earth.
'' Wow,'' Becky breathed, looking at the closed door. ''That was really sad.''
'' Yes, 'twas,'' Gerry agreed. ''Sad, indeed.''
' I know how much you wanted her to stay, Mr. O'Doul. I'm sorry she didn't. She seemed like a nice lady.'' Becky crumpled her mid-morning snack trash in deference to the solemn mood.
'' Oh, indeed. The best,'' Gerry agreed cheerily.
He walked back in his office and retrieved the champagne bottle and the silver bucket, ''Would you be kind enough, Becky to do something with this?''
'' Sure, Mr. O'Doul.''She scurried toward the bathroom and, when she returned, Gerry handed her Kathleen's notes.
'' And, Becky, two copies if you don't mind?''
'' Two?''
'' Yes. Two will do nicely.''
Gerry said just as the door opened. Kathleen stood there, resplendent in her simple sheath with the white piping and the champagne stain, her well cared for spectator shoes, her purse and her miserable expression.
CHAPTER THREE
The sun came through the trees like God's fingers nudging the earth awake. It was a precious moment, one he had always loved. She had watched him through this same window as he lost himself in the morning moments before getting into their little car and heading off to work.
He drove through the trees, down the windy road that led away from their house. He drove to the intersection that red-flagged civilization and finally to the freeways that took him to his good job thirty miles away. That job paid for the small, neat house off the beaten path in a canyon in the Santa Monica Mountains. It paid for the gardening tools that helped them raise their organic food, the bunnies who were their children, the short trips to Yosemite to commune with a different kind of nature.
That job paid for his past mistakes, too. He never complained about that. She adored his sense of responsibility, his ability to look behind and see what had gone wrong then look ahead to make things right. He was a man of exceptional sensitivity. He was such a good man. Gone now, he left behind an empty place in the little house and her heart. He also left behind some unfinished business she didn't understand.. She would have to take care of that business in order to keep his memory pure and to save herself. Though she was afraid to go below, she was more afraid not to. Today she would break the last corporeal tie with him and hang on to the spiritual ones.
Turning from the big window, she went to the smaller window by the fireplace and lifted the lace curtain. For a moment she looked beyond the clearing toward the rabbit hutch, even though there was no way she could see it. Perhaps a moment with them would give her courage. She bowed her head and decided not to walk in to the forest and visit with her friends. To do so would mean defeat. Her courage was ephemeral and if she didn't try it out now, this instant, she would lose it. Turning on her heel she went back toward the big window and the door beside it.
Carefully, she snuffed out the incense burning in the holder he'd made from a pine cone. It sat on the table he'd hewn out of a tree trunk. Taking another moment she closed her eyes, laid her hands across her chest and breathed in the woody scent. Tears came to her eyes though she wasn't standing
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