Life and Love

My 750 Word Project 2023 entry

Fat flakes drifted through the air in a silent descent from the dark sky. Jack kicked at a chunk of ice hanging behind the tire of his truck and shoved it off the driveway after it fell. He enjoyed winter. The cold seeped into his body and energized him in a way the heat never could. He leaned against his truck, lost in thought.

"Need some help? I'm good with my hands."

The feminine voice came from his left. Jack didn't bother to turn or even acknowledge the offer. Betty Jean Flannery was fifty-eight and hunting for her sixth husband. She considered the fifty-two-year-old banker a prime candidate.

"Bad day at work, handsome?"

Even though there was only a little light left to the day, Jack spotted the shadow indicating her movements. He swallowed the expletive that threatened to escape at her intrusion into his evening.

"I can take your mind off whatever's bothering you," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper as she stepped within inches of his side.

Jack knew what the woman's words implied. He brushed some snow off his jacket to give himself time to think of an answer. They hadn't been neighbors long—less than a month. She started her campaign to get him into her bed as soon as the moving truck left her house. He wasn't interested.

"No commitment, Jack, just a night or two of fun."

Her proposition shattered the peacefulness of the snowfall. Jack looked at the window of the master bedroom and turned toward the back door.

"Have a good night, Betty Jean."

"Oh, I will. I always do." She trailed her gloved finger across his cheek and winked. "I like to be handcuffed and whipped."

Because her statement didn't surprise him based on her previous comments, Jack didn't react. Instead, he walked up the path, his thoughts on the evening chores waiting inside. Betty Jean went home, determined to change the man's mind at some point, ignorant of what waited inside for Jack.

The emptiness hit him as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He tossed his snowy jacket and gloves across a chair, kicked his boots off, and made his way through the darkened rooms. He took a moment to run his hands together in an attempt to warm them before opening the bedroom door.

"Hello, beautiful."

Very little of the teenager Jack fell in love with resembled the woman lying in the narrow bed. He thought back to their first date and smiled. He had been nineteen to her eighteen. A year later, they were married. They had what Jack considered the perfect marriage for thirty years. Mary's cancer diagnosis changed everything.

With a prognosis of less than a year, she had few options. Treatments might help, according to her doctors, but there could be any number of side effects. Mary chose to take enough medication to help keep her comfortable so she could enjoy the time she had left. Jack had taken a leave from work to be with her. Anything she wanted to do, he made happen. Although trips were short, they managed to travel around the state, enjoying walks through parks and buying trinkets from brightly lit tourist shops.

Her health deteriorated quickly, though, and her doctors recommended a hospice house for her final days. Instead, he hired the proper staff to care for her at home. He read to her and created visions of the summer home she had wanted.

Jack watched her eyes for any spark of recognition. They remained closed, something that happened more each day. His heart ached. During their entire marriage, Mary had been strong and vibrant. The cancer took it from her long before he was ready to let her go.

He brushed away the tears on his cheeks and picked up her journal. Under normal circumstances, he would never read anything on the ivory pages. Yet he had a sudden urge to look at her last few entries.

It won't be long now. I can feel the life leaving my body more each day. I wish I had the words to tell Jack that if he ever meets someone who loves him the way I do that it's OK for him to move on. He's been my world from the day we met, and we've had a wonderful marriage. It's my fault he's so sad.

Jack leaned over his wife to whisper into her ear. "There will never be anyone else, my love."