Page 3 of Postmarked December

“You always wanted to work in a library, and you need to do something outside of caring for me,” he said as she draped the new red blanket across his legs.

“Why would I want to get a job right now?” she asked.

He lifted a weak hand. “Because doing this sucks.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” she said.

“I have a nurse. We can up her hours.”

“What if people realize I’m your wife? Will that make things crazy for the kids? I wouldn’t want to turn the school into a circus.”

“I doubt anyone would give you trouble.”

He was probably right. They wanted to see him, not her. “I don’t know…”

“Do it for me. You need to go out and feel the world because I can’t anymore.”

So in the middle of the biggest crisis in her life, she’d taken the library job. While she was at work, he slept, and when he was awake in the wee hours of the morning, she could barely keep her eyes open. She knew, then, it could be their last Christmas, so she took whatever he could give with gratitude.

Friends and industry folks would stop by, but when December rolled around she’d asked if they could refrain, due to the spread of germs. That was when things got really quiet.

The slower pace had given her and Toby a little time to come to terms with what they were facing, and they never shied away from it. They talked about the end.

“If at all possible, I’ll be here with you after I leave this planet,” he said one night as they brushed their teeth, before he’d gotten too sick to get out of bed. “But not in a psycho way.” The edge of his lip twitched upward with his amusement. “Like if you end up dating someone, I’ll probably hang out downtown or something.” He made a disgusted face, and she laughed.

“Don’t talk about me dating,” she said. “That’s weird.”

His face became serious. He set his toothbrush on the edge of the sink and took her arm, turning her toward him. “No, it isn’t. The very last thing I’d want for you is to go through your life alone. You have my absolute blessing.”

Tears welled up and she shook her head. He pulled her in, and she buried her face in his chest.

He pulled back to look at her. “Shoot, if I could pick him myself, I would.” His gaze became unsteady, as if he were thinking about something important, but he didn’t say anything else and she was too afraid to ask.

“Just promise you’ll come back if you can,” she said through the lump in her throat.

“Promise.” He leaned down and kissed her.

They’d prayed together and had long talks about their faith. She believed he’d live on after he left this world. And she trusted him to be true to his word. If at all possible, he’d be there for her.

But she had yet to see any sign of him.

Chapter Two

With Marion probably minutes away, Heather went into the bathroom to take stock of her pink nose, the dark circles under her eyes, and her generally disheveled appearance. Her skin was pasty. Her brown eyes were clouded and bloodshot, and her dark locks were dulled; she hadn’t gone to the salon in ages. Her appearance was a far cry from that wedding video. Now, she felt frumpy and out of touch entirely with style. With an audible exhale, she turned on the cold water, splashing some on her face, happy that Marion had insisted on coming over.

Marion knew her better than anyone, which was why she’d called, certainly. She’d guessed that Heather would be wallowing on her first day off. Heather didn’t manage time off well anymore because during that time she should be managing the leftover affairs that fell into her lap after Toby’s death. He was an only child, and his parents were older when they had him, and they, too, had passed on. So everything fell on her shoulders.

She hadn’t looked at his contracts to reconcile his percentages and check the money coming in, at what point she’d get the rights to his old songs, or how much he should be getting paid and when. She took the publisher at its word. There was also that storage unit full of their old files. He’d been doing weird things at the end, his medicine making him forgetful, but arguing with her and telling her he could manage. Out of exhaustion and love, she’d let him, figuring she could always go through the storage unit later. There was also their vacation cabin that she still hadn’t located the key to. She hadn’t seen it since he’d had contractors in to make upgrades to it.

Their accountant had been managing the company that kept it running, as well as their taxes, and she needed to get in contact with him to make sure she was in the know with their accounts. There was so much to do, but almost a year later, she still couldn’t bring herself to take care of any of it. She just let others run it all.

Wiping her face, she took another deep breath and looked around. “Toby? Can you hear me up there?” she called out.

Given his current state, promises or not, if he could reach her, would he really want to spend his time down here in this small, cold bathroom?

“It’s okay if you want to hang out up there,” she said. “I’m crying, but I’ll be all right. I know you never loved this apartment.” He’d thought it could do with more security, but she’d adored the wide-open floor plan, the high ceilings, and the view of the Nashville skyline, so he’d relented. “Even if you are able to somehow stick your head in and say hello, you don’t have to.”

While she secretly yearned to see some miraculous appearance, there was another part of her that hoped he’d let go of all this down here. He didn’t need to worry about her. He had eternity ahead of him. She wanted to be strong for him, and most of the time, she could manage. But some days were harder than others.