Let No One Weep for Me: Stories of Love and Loss

Let No One Weep for Me

Stories of Love and Loss

Copyright 2015 Melanie S. Hatter

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design by Christopher Darden

Cover Photography of the English Cemetery in Florence, Italy taken by Melanie S. Hatter, July 2007

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are historical figures and events used in a fictional situation.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Things We Cherish

Like the Geese

Better After Death

To Catch a Hummingbird

Taking the Shot

Something Worth Saving

Holding On

Cornbread

The Other Side of the Post Office

On the Porch

In Pieces

Obsessed with Claudia

New Clothes

The Right Time

Nikki

About the Author

Acknowledgments

To Muriel and Lisbeth

"Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning;

for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men."

~ Quintus Ennius

Things We Cherish

She stood there in that summer dress with no bra, and all he wanted was to press against her and smell the cocoa butter on her brown skin. He heard her question but let his gaze slide over the outline of her body as the morning light filtered through the glass doors behind her. The flecks of gray in her hair seemed to sparkle.

Be honest, she said, shifting her weight from her right to her left foot. I know it’s a lot to ask, but he doesn’t have any family to speak of and, well, it’s just the right thing to do.

He sat down at the breakfast bar and considered what she was asking: to have Jon, her ex-husband, come live with them.

Darius, the cancer is getting worse. Soon he won’t be able to care for himself and that bitch of a sister won’t even visit him. She frowned and bit her lip. I shouldn’t call her that. I’m really worried about him.

But what about the wedding?

Her face wrinkled into a question and he wanted to kiss her. Would you be really upset if we put it off for a bit? she asked.

Darius cleared his throat. What if he lives a long time, Audrey? Have you thought about that?

But he could die tomorrow and I couldn’t live with myself if I let him die alone. It’s just not right. She sighed. He has some savings and his insurance will cover his care, so we won’t have that expense. But there’s no point in him spending money on rent anymore.

It’s not the money.

Then what?

It’s just ... It’s a lot for you to take on. For us to take on.

She opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. For Darius the conversation had ended, so he slid his reading glasses on and opened the newspaper. The stock market had taken a dive again. The slap of her hand on the back of his head felt sharp yet painless — he knew this to be her playful reminder that his attention had drifted away from her.

We can do this, she said, returning her palm to his head as if to soothe away the hurt of her slap. I need to do this.

He had admired Audrey’s friendship with her ex-husband. They had parted on good terms five years ago after their second son graduated college — Eric now worked with the National Park Service in Nevada. Their first son had enlisted in the Marines and had been killed in Afghanistan seven years ago.

Darius stared at the newspaper, the type blurring as he pondered the implications. Laying his glasses on the counter, he squeezed the bridge of his nose. She had asked him a few weeks ago and he kept delaying his response. He liked Jon, having met him a few times before he became sick. He had a strong handshake and a good sense of humor, and Darius could see what Audrey had found attractive. But what would it mean having him live in their house?

We need to get him out of that apartment by the end of the month to avoid another month’s rent. Audrey stood on the opposite side of the bar, head cocked, eyes wide waiting for his response. I know it won’t be easy, she continued, but I just can’t imagine him being left alone at a time like this. I know he’d do the same for me if the tables were turned. She paused then said, He’s my son’s father.

Darius nodded. Okay, he said. Okay.

Immediately, she leaned across the counter and her arms encircled his neck while her chest smothered his face. He laughed at her exuberance as she wrote a list of to-dos: clean out the den, which will become a bedroom because he can’t go up and down the stairs. He already has a medical bed. Move the chest of drawers down to give him somewhere to put his things. Rent a truck or hire a moving company? She rattled on and Darius watched her, feeling overwhelmed by the change about to take place in their lives.

* * *

Jon used a cane to move around and couldn’t have been more apologetic and grateful, thanking Darius repeatedly as they left his apartment and drove through the District to their house in Bethesda. The colon cancer had returned after a few years in remission and the doctor had given him six months. Audrey had arranged for hospice care to visit at least three times a week.

As he helped him out of the car, Darius was overcome by the man’s frailty. He could feel Jon’s rail-thin arms and feared holding the man too tightly as Jon leaned on him to gain balance while retrieving his cane from the car. Once inside, Audrey fussed over Jon, getting him cushions, water, a stool for his feet.

Stop it, Jon said finally, a strained smile curling the corners of his lips. Darius could see the stress in the man’s eyes, the fear and humiliation of losing his dignity. Really. I’m fine.

Audrey stood with her hand on her chest apologizing. She looked at Darius.

Would you help me for a minute, he said, not sure what he needed help with but certain she needed a reason to leave the sitting room. In the kitchen, her face crumpled though she didn’t cry and he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her to his chest.

He’s so thin, she said.

I know. I know, but he’s okay. He’s here now, and we’ll take care of him. Just let him tell us what he needs. You don’t have to fuss.

Her chest expanded with air then slowly shrunk in his arms. Her body trembled and he tightened his hold.

I love you, Baby. Thank you for doing this with me. He’s a good man and doesn’t deserve to be alone right now. I know this was a tough decision for you.

He kissed her forehead unsure how to tell her what she meant to him, how proud he was to have a woman with such compassion and respect for others. They had been together three years and from the moment they met, he knew she was the one for him. He still didn’t like to admit they had met on one of those online dating sites. He had been divorced a year and had no luck meeting someone new, so at the urging of a co-worker he decided to go online. After only one month, he came across her profile and something about her face, her eyes, the way she smiled made him almost desperate to meet her. And when he did, when he walked into the restaurant and saw her sitting in the booth, he couldn’t stop smiling. She was the one. He just knew it. Audrey, on the other hand, took some months to fall for him. But he persisted until he melted her heart.

* * *

The first few weeks proved awkward having Jon in the house. Spontaneous lovemaking on the couch was out of the question and even in the bedroom both he and Audrey were quieter, more subdued. Do you think he heard us? she’d ask, covering her grin with loose fingers, cheeks flushed.

Some days, when she doted on their house-guest, getting him tea, fetching his clothes, generally making sure he was okay, Darius grew irritated. He caught himself one day, complaining to his mother, who listened patiently on the other end of the phone. Complaining that Audrey never did his laundry or folded his clothes, yet spent hours ensuring Jon’s clothes were neat and clean. She never delivered tea to him while he sat with his feet on the ottoman, settling on the arm of the chair to stroke his shoulder and ask how he’s feeling. Darius stopped mid-sentence and heard his mother chuckle.

Feeling a little left out are we, child? she said, and he felt the embarrassment rise in his cheeks. I sure do admire you both. I know this must be hard, but don’t forget Audrey does so much more for you than all of that stuff put together.

With time, Darius began to accept this love Audrey held for Jon — a caring, magnanimous love that one had for a brother or close friend. And in his own heart, his love and admiration for this woman multiplied. One day soon, she would be his wife and he would vow publicly what he had promised in private, to cherish and protect her, always.

With Jon, Darius stopped standing at a distance, asking what he needed and getting close only when absolutely necessary, as if the cancer was contagious. Instead, he found himself seeking out Jon’s company, and on evenings when Audrey worked late, he settled into the armchair to talk politics. He laughed at discovering Jon’s love of science fiction films and their common love of jazz. When he learned that Jon enjoyed chess, Darius dusted off the set tucked away in the hall closet and set up the card table next to the bed with two chairs so they could play together — he could get the table close enough to the bed if Jon wasn’t able to get up or he could sit in the chair if he felt good enough. Some games would last days as they discussed current events, movies and music in between moves. Some weeks, Jon didn’t feel so well and the board sat abandoned for days at a time, until he announced he was well enough to pick up right where they had left off. When he placed the opposite king in check, Darius feigned irritation that his opponent had faked not being well to give him time to formulate a winning strategy. Jon countered with a sly chuckle.

You seem to be more interested in Jon than me these days, Audrey said, as Darius stepped quietly into the bedroom after a long chess session. Propped up with both pillows, she slipped a yellow highlighter between the pages of a book and set it in her lap. She wore a smug expression that said, I knew you’d become friends. He shrugged, glad she didn’t say the words aloud, then undressed and slid under the blankets, snuggling close to her.

He’s getting weaker, isn’t he? he said, feeling the breath filling her chest.

She patted his head but kept silent. He kissed the soft skin just above her left breast, pressed his cheek against her and gave thanks for their health and for having each other.

* * *

The projected six months grew to a year and the new family of three celebrated with a pot of coffee and made-from-scratch pound cake — Jon’s favorite. Audrey never mentioned the wedding, but occasionally Darius imagined sliding the gold band on her finger and promising to be with her forever. Before Jon’s arrival, they had discussed something small with a few close friends then a Mediterranean cruise, a dream they had shared since they met but kept delaying because of money, work or family. They decided the cruise would be their honeymoon, but talk about the wedding seemed inappropriate under the circumstances. So they waited.

* * *

Darius pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment reflecting on the meeting. His boss could be such an asshole sometimes. Darius took a deep breath and headed inside, ready to pop open a beer and watch the baseball game Audrey had recorded. She was in the den with Jon. He changed into sweatpants, swung by the refrigerator and settled on the couch. He searched through the list of recorded programs for the game.

Audrey, he called. Audrey!

She came rushing into the room. What? You okay?

Yeah. Um. Where’s the game? The one I asked you to record for me.

Shit, Honey, I completely forgot. I was working on this project and it just slipped my mind.

He stared at her for a moment, gave a heavy sigh and began flipping through channels looking for something else.

What? The challenge in her voice scraped him but he kept silent. Are you mad at me? she asked, standing between him and the television. Darius blew air through his lips. Here we go, he thought.

Seriously? The pitch of her voice increased and her gaze burned his cheeks. He stared at her bare feet. I just cleaned up puke from Jon’s bedside. What the hell have you done for him lately besides play chess? I’ve been washing bed sheets and folding t-shirts. Grocery shopping and cooking something he can stomach. What the hell have you been doing?

Me? What have I been doing? Suddenly you care? He narrowed his eyes at her. I work my ass off and all I’m looking for is to take a minute and watch the game. I said nothing, Audrey. Not one damn word and now you care about what I’ve been doing. Well ain’t that some shit.

She erupted then, her fingers stabbing the air, spittle exploding between them, her voice rising higher with each exclamation. As she pounced at him, he dodged and made an escape for the stairs. I am not doing this, he yelled.

Doing what? Having a real conversation for a change? She followed, poking her nails into his shoulder, his back. You are so afraid to talk to me about anything anymore. All I want is to have a goddamned conversation.

In a fury, he turned, grabbed her arms and pushed her back against the wall at the bottom of the stairwell. Her