One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories(5)

“We’ll go together,” said Tim. “It’ll be fine.”


Lynn’s father opened the door to his oversized condominium with a huge grin. Of course he would have a condominium in heaven.

“Remember at your high school graduation?” he said. “When you told me to go to hell?”

He smiled like he had been looking forward to saying that line for a long time.

“What a jerk,” she said after they left. “Why did they let him in?”

“He must have changed,” said Tim.

“And then changed back?”

“Maybe,” said Tim. “Who knows how things work here?”

“Well, maybe this is better, because I get to feel mercy, or something. Or close that chapter. Or whatever. I did it. You know?”

“That’s a good attitude,” said Tim. “And it was the right thing to do. Now you can enjoy heaven with a clear conscience.”


The next day, Tim called Nana.

“Hello?”

“Nana?”

“Who’s this?”

“Nana! It’s Tim!”

“Tim who?”

“Tim Donahue!”

“Eliza’s husband? Oh.” She sounded unhappy. “Hi.”

“No, Tim Junior. Eliza’s son. Timmy! Your grandson!”

“Timmy! Oh, goodness—Timmy, you died? You’re just a little boy!”

“No, Nana, I’m all grown up! I’m in my seventies now. Was.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I still pictured you as a little boy! How did everything wind up?”

“Well … there’s a lot to cover, Nana! We want to come visit you. I have a wife now—I want you to meet her!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Wonderful. It will be so wonderful to see you both!”

“When’s good?” said Tim.

“When? Oh. Hm.” Nana paused. “I have a bunch of stuff next week. I’m seeing some friends, and there’s a couple concerts I want to see … How about next weekend? The weekend after this coming weekend, I mean.”

“We would love that. How about Sunday, for dinner? Like old times?”

“Huh?”

“Like the Sunday dinners you used to make us, when we were kids.”

“Oh. Sure, we could do that. Or we could order in. Lot of options. Let’s decide closer to then, okay?”

“Okay, Nana. I love you. I’m so happy I’m going to get to see you!”

“Me, too. I love you, too. See you next Sunday. But not this one—the next one. Bye now.”


“Nana sounded odd,” Tim said after he hung up. “Or something.”

“Maybe she’s upset that you didn’t get in touch with her before?”

“I don’t know,” said Tim. “It’s hard to tell that stuff over the phone. And also, there’s a lot to do here, you know? I hadn’t seen you, I hadn’t explored heaven—it’s not like anyone’s going anywhere …”

“It’ll all be better on Sunday,” said Lynn. “When we see her.”

“You’re right,” Tim agreed.


On Sunday, Tim called to confirm.

“Nana! It’s Tim. Just confirming we’ll see you tonight? I’m bringing my wife, Lynn.”

“Who?”

“Lynn, my wife. You’re going to love her.”

“Who’s this?”

“Tim, your grandson. Timmy.”

“Timmy! Oh, Tim, gosh, tonight? I’m so sorry, tonight won’t work. Can we do next weekend?”

“Sure,” said Tim. “I guess.”

“Let me look here … . There’s something I have to be at on Saturday. And then I’m actually checking out some shows next week—actually, is two weeks okay? A week from next Friday? Can you pencil that in?”

“Sure,” said Tim.

“Perfect. I’ll see you next Friday! A week from, I mean.”

“Okay, Nana. I love you.”

“I love you, too!”


A week from Friday, Tim and Lynn showed up at the door of Nana’s house. On the door there was a note:

Tim: Tried to call you last minute but no one picked up. So sorry but there’s a concert I just had to see with some friends. Won’t be back till very late. So sorry. Must reschedule. Talk soon. I love you! Nana

Tim turned to Lynn.

“Am I crazy to take this a little personally, at this point?”

“This is weird,” Lynn agreed.

“A concert? Again?”

“Weren’t you two close?”

“I thought so. Maybe you’re right—maybe she’s mad that I didn’t contact her before.”

“But then why wouldn’t she just say it?”

“I don’t know. I guess she would have.”

“Well, what should we do tonight?” asked Lynn, trying on a smile and finding it fit perfectly. “We’re all dressed up, it’s a Friday night in heaven …”

“Yeah. We can go out ourselves, can’t we?”

“Want to check out one of those concerts?”