Page 53 of Where Roads Lead

Will and I stared at each other in horror, but the old man took no notice.

“I met my wife when I was about your age,” he said, looking us up and down. “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I miss her every day.”

“Oh no!” I stifled a gasp. “I’m so sorry. Did she…?”

He stared at me expectantly, forcing me to fill in the blanks.

“I’m sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Did she pass on?”

“What?” He reared back in shock, a scowl settling firmly on his weathered lips. “No! She ran off to Florida with some man she met on the internet. Haven’t seen her since. I knew getting her that desktop to play online poker would be the death of me.”

My eyes widened.

“Oh,” I said dumbly.

“Well, we better get going,” Will said, the space heater dangling from one arm.

“Do you want to come upstairs and look at a few pictures of her?” the old man asked, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes.

“Elsie.” Will’s voice was a warning.

But the man was lonely. And clearly desperate for some company. I couldn’t bear to think of how long he’d been here, waiting for his wife who never returned.

“Or better yet, I’ll show you the damn emails between her and that man, RascalTed1946.” He huffed an indignant breath. “I printed them all out.”

“Elsie—” Will repeated, a bit more panicked.

“Sure.” I shrugged halfheartedly, a nervous smile plastered to my face.

How could I deny him after I already reminded him of his runaway, cheater wife?

In simple terms, I couldn’t.

A half hour later, I was cross-legged on Roger’s living room carpet with a bucket of photos on the floor in front of me, and the old gentleman himself beaming at me from his spot in the recliner.

Will’s hellish death glare was burning a hole in my back, but how many opportunities did I get in life to brighten up an old person’s day to such a wholesome degree?

Not that the activity in question was particularly wholesome. In fact, what seemed to bring Roger the greatest joy was joining in on his rampant criticisms of his wife.

“And do you think she cares that I had to learn how to turn the oven on? Do you think she cares that I forget to take my medication now that she isn’t here to line it up for me?” he asked, eyes bugging out as he stared down at me.

“Heartless,” I muttered, with a solemn shake of my head.

“Well,” Will stepped forward, “this has been nice, but we really need to go.”

His hands came under my armpits, lifting me into a standing position with an ease that annoyed me. What did he have to be so strong for, working in a coffee shop?

“You’re right,” Roger said a little dejectedly. “I’ve kept you two long enough.”

He rose from the recliner, ready to see us to the door.

“Thank you for everything, Roger,” I told him genuinely. It may not have been my ideal way to spend an afternoon, but really it wasn’t so bad.

Sometimes it was worth being inconvenienced by others if it made their day a little better.

He smiled at me, and I handed him the stack of photos I’d been working my way through. He moved to grab them, only to drop them all in the transfer.

“Oh, let me.” I was quick to drop to my knees before he could make the attempt himself.