Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“You can sit there.” She indicates to an old brown velvet couch, and Milly lowers gingerly to a high-seated armchair, resting her stick to her side. Then she stares at Luke while he tries to get comfy on the couch. The seat is so low, his body is zig-zagged. I smile and join him.
“This is my friend,” Luke says as I take a seat beside him. “Lo. Lo, this is Milly Rose.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you, Milly.”
Her old eyes reluctantly give up Luke to find me. “My dear, are you Luke’s friend who lost her husband?”
Luke reaches over to me and rests his palm on my forearm, a sign of comfort. It occurs to me in that moment that I haven’t thought about what a dreadful day it’s been for a good twenty minutes. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a terribly bad thing, don’t know whether to feel guilty or not. I strain a smile and nod. “I laid him to rest this morning.”
“Oh, my dear girl.” Her old face, so woeful for me, doesn’t bother me as much as everyone else’s compassion, and I have no idea why. “I’m so very sorry. You must be near the same age as I was when I lost my Phillip.”
“You lost your husband?” I ask, shuffling forward on my chair. The potential that there is someone sitting before me who has experienced this wretchedness and can maybe offer me some understanding on what lies ahead is almost too overwhelming.
“I did, dear. To that wretched C-word.”
“Cancer,” I all but breathe.
She nods solemnly, and Luke’s hold of my arm shifts to my hand. “It was a dark time.”
“Does it get any easier?”
“Time is a wonderful healer, my dear.”
I fall into thought, feeling as sorry for Milly as I know she is for me. She lost Pops, and then fate took her husband away too? I look up at Luke next to me. What would I do if I lost him as well? “Did you meet anyone else?” I ask, unable to hold back my probably inappropriate question. Why am I asking? Validation, maybe. To ease my conscience?
When her head shakes, I feel my heart sink, and Luke’s grip of my hand constricts. “There was only one other man for me, and he wasn’t available.”
My sinking heart bottoms out, and Milly’s eyes drop to her lap. “You’ve been on your own ever since?” I ask. That’s over fifty years. Fifty years of being alone?
“On my own,” she confirms, looking up at me and smiling, though there’s no happiness beyond her feigned gesture. I look around the room, seeing only a couple of framed photographs, both black and white. I get up and wander over to the sideboard and pick up the first, being sure not to knock any of the surrounding brass wear and trinkets. The picture is of Milly and a man, standing arm in arm on a pier. She looks trimmer, but the beauty hidden beneath age across the room is obvious in the shot. She was a stunning woman, curvy in all the right places, lips plump and pouting, her curls set and pinned to perfection. I imagine many men fell at her feet. “That’s Phillip and me in 1956.”
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, making her chuckle lightly. There’s a powerful allure in her eyes, something that would draw men in and hold them rapt. Even as a woman, I can see the magnetism. She was a siren.
Luke joins me and looks at the picture, the pad of his finger running the length of the glass protecting the photo. Glancing at him, I smile, and he returns it on an endearing tilt of his head. He turns to return to the sofa, but pulls to a stop, his stare falling to the other picture among the clutter. Following his hand as he retrieves it, I see Milly again, younger, but just as captivating, and there beside her, standing tall and proud, as handsome as the man standing next to me now, is Pops.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper, studying the picture. They’re on Trafalgar Square, standing on the edge of the fountain, both laughing, both absolutely beautiful.
“Handsome devil, your grandfather,” Milly says from beyond.
“You’ve kept this all these years?” Luke asks, flashing the photograph at Milly.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She sounds almost defensive. “He was my first love.”
“I can’t believe it,” Luke whispers. “You’ve been on your own all these years. Why didn’t you look him up?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start, dear. Besides, he married your grandmother. I wasn’t about to intrude.”
“She’s been gone for thirty years.” Luke sighs and places the picture of Pops and Milly back in place.
“If things will be, then they will be.” She places her hands in her lap, and I find my fingers worrying my wedding band around my finger. She’s been alone all this time. No children. It seems like a frightful waste, and it pulls painfully on my heartstrings to hear she found love and lost it again. How cruel can life be? The only man she wanted after losing her husband wasn’t available, so she went on alone. Thirty years of them both alone have been wasted. I look at Luke, seeing a man who loves me. Milly found someone who loved her twice . . .