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Gaylesaid, “Whatdo you mean?”
Helooked stricken. “Foryears,Irefrained from contacting you, believing you wouldn’t welcome the overture.Butyou too were alone.”Then, “I’mso sorry for your loss.”
“Thankyou.Tomwas a good man.”
“WhenIchecked online, your account was private, only your profile photo was visible.”
Gayleknew the photo.Shewas a young woman then, wearing her mother’s white, satin gown, a beaming tuxedoed man at her side.Itwas their wedding portrait.
“I’msorry,”Lourepeated.
Gayleunderstood.Lou’sapology was something more than over the loss of her husband. “Iknow you are,” she said. “Itwas a long time ago.”Shelooked down at their hands and the space between them. “Youcan hold my hand again.”
Louobliged, kissing her palm, seemingly struggling against his rising emotion. “I’veregretted whatIdid for so long,Idon’t know ifIcan handle your forgiveness whenIhaven’t forgiven myself.”Then, “IwishI’dhad the power back then to help your family.”
Gayle’sheart went out to him.He’dbeen carrying the burden of regret for decades. “Lifereallyhashad its effect on you,” she said, feeling his pain. “It’sokay now to let go of the guilt.I’mokay.”Shesmiled, gently squeezing their intertwined fingers. “We’reokay.”
Theysat in silence, each taking in her words of forgiveness.Asquirrel zipped by, scampering up a tree.Afather and his toddler walked past, singing the alphabet.
Louasked, “Andyou?Backthen, it must have been so hard, your family starting over after losing the farm.”
“Itwas a challenging time,” she admitted, feeling a familiar pang of anxiety.Tothis day, she avoided the topic of her childhood.She’dsuppressed the memories of wearing unfashionable hand-me-downs, shopping with her mother atGoodwill, eating rice and beans for days at a time. “Weeventually landed on our feet.”
Lou’sface dropped. “I’msure the scars remain.”
“Yes, but they’re scabbed over.”Mostly.Shehad been harboring a lifelong fear of poverty.
Sittingbeside her high school sweetheart,Gaylerealized it was that fear which triggered her earlier panic attack.Fearof losing everything.Likeshe had once before.
Louseemed to pick up on her change of mood. “Wasit work that brought you toBreckenridge?”
Gaylenodded, grateful for the change in topic, even if it was another touchy one. “Yes, but it’s not what’s keeping me here.”
Whenhe gave a questioning look, she said, “Alot has happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
Loustood, holding out his hand for her to take.Onlynow did she realize he had a rip in the leg of his pants.
Gaylepointed it out.
Heglanced at the damage. “Forthe record,I'mnever throwing these pants away.They'llremind me of how we met.”
Shelaughed.Itwas ridiculous but sweet.
“Comeon,” he said, a mischievous smile on his face.
“Whereare we going?” she asked, knowing she would follow him anywhere.Likea long lost puppy searching for home.
“Tomy place.Ineed to get cleaned up andIwant to hear everything.”
“Everything?” she asked, still incredulous to how her life had changed in the blink of an eye.
Henodded. “Everythingsince we were together last.”
“Thatwould take a year.”
Loustilled, his face turning serious. “Ihope, dearGayle, that it will take a whole lot longer than that.”
Sheswallowed hard.
