Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(31)

I’m just like everybody else; I spent all these days waiting for the right time to say something special. Then when that time came around I let it pass me by. Once a moment is gone, it’s gone forever. You can wait and hope it will come around again, but it seldom does.

The painful truth is I should have spoken up while I still had the chance. I should have taken hold of her hand and said, Ida Sweetwater, I’m in love with you.

I held off because I thought it might sound silly, a man of my age speaking such words. Looking back, I can see how wrong that thinking was. You’re never too old to love someone, and there’s never a wrong time for telling them so.

I never said it, but I hope to God Ida knew how much I loved her.





Will or Will Not





After Ida’s funeral a gloom settled over the house, a gloom bigger and darker than was imaginable. The residents no longer gathered for meals. Instead they sat in mournful little groups and occasionally nibbled on the leftovers from a week earlier, funeral food brought to the door and delivered along with condolences. The lone exception was Max Sweetwater. He wore a smug look of contentment and from time to time could be heard whistling a merry tune.

Caroline paid little attention to Max and seldom left her room. The novel she had been working on was forgotten, and the computer screen remained dark. Days earlier she had been overflowing with the joy of life but she was now little more than a shadow, a dark shape that moved solemnly through the hallway, going from the bedroom to the bathroom and then back to the bedroom without ever speaking.

After three days had passed, Wilbur, who’d come to care for Caroline as he cared for Ida, grew concerned. That morning he brewed a pot of coffee and knocked on her door with a mug in his hand. She opened the door, accepted the coffee, then left it to sit and grow cold.

That day and another one passed, but Caroline remained in her room. Wilbur sat in the parlor and waited to hear her door squeak open, but it didn’t happen. As evening approached he set aside the newspaper he’d feigned reading, walked up the stairs, and rapped on Caroline’s door.

When there was no answer, he rattled the doorknob and said, “We’ve got to talk.”

“I don’t feel up to talking.” Caroline sniffled.

“I know you don’t,” Wilbur replied. “But this is about your grandma.”

It was the one and perhaps only reason that could pull Caroline from her bed. She cracked open the door and said, “What about Grandma?”

Without waiting for an invitation, Wilbur pushed open the door and wrapped his arms around Caroline. “This has got to stop. Your grandma wanted you to be happy. It would break her heart to see you acting this way.”

Caroline stepped back and lowered her eyes shamefully. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“Do you think your feelings are more important than your grandma’s?”

It would have been better to be scolded. Caroline could have stood there and taken it then curled herself under the blankets and continued to cry. Instead he’d challenged the loyalty of her love.

“Of course I don’t,” she replied.

“Your grandma was mighty proud of this house,” he said. “It was the one thing she had to give you. And now here you are—”

“The one thing she had to give me?”

“Yes,” Wilbur answered. “A few weeks back Ida told me she’d made up a will leaving the house and everything she owned to you.”

Tears filled Caroline’s eyes but she didn’t speak.

“Ida wanted you to be happy here.” Wilbur’s words were soft and tender. “Don’t you think you could try to do that for her?”

For a long moment Caroline said nothing. The tears overflowed her eyes, and, sobbing, she leaned her head against Wilbur’s chest.

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

~

Later that evening Caroline appeared in the kitchen, and the residents heard noises they hadn’t heard in many weeks. It was the sound of a large pot clattering down from the shelf. After nearly three hours Caroline clanged the dinner bell that sat on the dining room sideboard.

One by one, the residents came. They walked slowly and with little happiness in their step, but they came. It was after nine o’clock when Caroline dished out helpings of macaroni and cheese and carrots. Wilbur said a prayer of thanksgiving and they ate. Although the cheese sauce was thin and watery and the carrots underdone, everyone said the meal was just like Ida would have served.

“Your grandma would have been real proud of you,” Laricka said.

Although it was offered as a compliment, Caroline’s tears started again and that’s when Max took over the conversation. “Don’t worry, Caroline. As the new owner of this house I’ll see to it that we have adequate kitchen help. My plan is to—”

“New owner?” Wilbur cut in.

Max nodded. “Although nothing’s been finalized yet, as Big Jim’s brother I’m next of kin and obviously in line to inherit my brother’s estate, which includes the house.”

“You’re not taking Caroline into consideration,” Wilbur said pointedly.

“Oh, she’d be welcome to stay here,” Max replied. “If she pays rent like everyone else.” Before anyone had time to question him, Max swung into a lengthy explanation of how he planned to hire a cook for food preparation and a housekeeper to do the cleaning.