Lovely Weather
By JJPP69
©3/2002 by JP
Jack Price was as tired as an old man
could be. It had been a good life, give
or take a few years. He didn’t miss the
wars, but he was proud of how he had handled them. The medals had meant nothing to him, but his
wife had felt different. He had placed
them in her coffin just before the burial.
Forty-two years with the same woman, now that was something he could
take pride in. He chuckled to
himself. No medals for that tour of
duty.
Yep, Mary was a warrior herself,
except she lost the battle after the long, hard fight. The worst was when her hair fell out. But he didn’t mourn that fact. Mary had told him that night, the night she
left, that she was just going ahead of him to make sure everything was in
proper order for his arrival. Take your
time, she had said. I’ll be waiting for
you. Besides, I think the widow Olsen
has the hots for you. And then she was
gone.
Today was a good day; the weather was
wonderful for March. The sun was out,
the robins were busy playing eat the new bugs.
As he turned the corner expecting to see an empty bench, he saw the widow
Olsen instead. He stopped for a moment,
and then decided he was too tired to pass up the chance to rest.
“Mrs. Olsen.” Jack said with a tip of his hat. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Please do,” she quickly responded, “a
lovely day to be out and about.”
“Yes.” It was all Jack could think of to say. He looked to the heavens.
“I’m sure it’s okay, Jack.”
“What? I’m sorry.”
Jack said. “My mind must have
wondered off.”
“You probably didn’t know this, but
your wife and I were really very close.”
“That would make sense I guess, being
next door neighbors and all.”
“Yeah, we helped each other through
the war years. You came home all shot
up, and Ralph, well you know, he’s still MIA.”
“Did Ralph ever tell you we met up in
“No, he didn’t.” She said as she looked down into her lap.
“Was she pretty?”
“What?” Jack said.
“No, it wasn’t like that. We just
got drunk as two skunks could get and then passed out it our hotel rooms, Mrs.
Olsen.” Jack despised having to lie.
“Aren’t you a dear?” she said with a
flip of her silver hair. “I have a first
name you know, Jack.”
“I know.”
“It’s okay if you say it Jack. A woman likes to hear her own name spoken by
another man, or have you forgotten that?”
“It’s not that I have forgotten. I just choose not to remember.”
“Mary wouldn’t want it this way.”
“So she said,” Jack returned. “But I know Mary, and she was just doing what
she thought would be good for me. No
offense intended Mrs. Olsen, but once you’ve had the best, for forty-two years,
there is no contest. Now if you’ll
excuse me.”
“Mr. Price, if you could find it in
your heart, would you walk me home?”
“Sarah, you never give up, do you?”
“No,” she said as she dipped her head
shyly, ever the young minded lady.
“But I’m not coming in,” Jack said as
he gave her his arm.
“How precocious of you, Master
Jack! What kind of lady do you think I
am?”
“They only come in one fashion.”
“And what might that be?”
“Dangerous.”