Matchmaker

"How many times?"

She looked back at me then, but didn't answer right away, instead pulling her plate from the microwave. I hadn't touched mine, focusing on what she was saying instead. She brought her plate to the table then got herself a glass of ice water as well, and finally sat.

"Four times. The first was in his car one night when I was out with Lisa and Michele. You know Charlie and I had dated before I met you. I didn't...don't...love him, but he was a familiar face and a reminder of my carefree youth. He suggested hooking up for old time's sake and I took it. We got together 3 more times after that. I was foolishly chasing the past and he took advantage of that. I let him, of course."

"I'm sorry I didn't realize you were struggling."

"Ethan, I did everything I could to hide it from you. I love you, always have, and I didn't want to burden you with my problems. I thought I could handle it without telling you. I hope you don't think it had anything to do with you. It was all me and my immaturity and trying to avoid being a grown-up, even though I wanted to be grown-up with you."

We turned our attention to our food. I think Brenly sensed I was running what she had told me through her mind so didn't say anything to interrupt, and if a word was said the entire time we were eating I don't remember what it was or who said it.

When we had both finished eating I scooped up the plates and started to clean up. Brenly had put the containers of food away as she made dinner so I just had to clean the plates we had used. Not very taxing and I had it done in just a few minutes. Once I had placed the last plate on the drainer to dry, I turned to find an anxious-looking Brenly standing at the edge of the living room.

"Ethan, did you want me to leave? I mean, I'd like to stay again, and I took some time off work so I could, but after what I told you I'll understand if you want me to leave."

Her eyes were moist, but even before that I knew what I wanted.

"No, Brenly, I don't want you to leave. Please stay."

The relief was evident on her face.

"Thank you, Ethan. I'll be sleeping with you again, just so you know."

"Of course."

[::::::::::]

I thought back to when Annie was sick. I had, as I mentioned, quit my job. It wasn't like I really enjoyed it, but even if I had there was nothing that was going to keep me from being there for Annie. As I said, she raised me for all intents and purposes. For me it was the same thing as if someone else's mom had died. That's what she was to me.

We talked a lot. Neither of us was working for much of it and there wasn't really anything else to do. We talked about everything; not much choice when you spend as much time doing it as we did. But we did spend a lot of time talking about Brenly and what she had done.

She didn't specifically say that I should forgive Brenly and take her back, but she was certainly trying to push me in that direction, or so it seemed to me. She said some of the same things Brenly did. How young and immature Brenly had been when we got married, and how much she regretted doing it, and how much she still loved me. I listened to her and responded appropriately but, in my mind, it was just another thing to talk about. Sure, I still loved Brenly but never really entertained taking her back. I mean, she cheated on me so we had to get divorced. That's how it works, right?

Brenly finished her shower and I took my turn. I was still tired and my brain was tired, too, so I just went through the motions with a blank mind.

Brenly was already in bed when I got to the bedroom. She was solidly on the left half of the bed, obviously not broadcasting any expectations she may have had. I turned off the bedside lamps and climbed into bed. I could practically hear her anticipation.

"C'mere Bren. I could use your warmth right now."

She scrambled over and cuddled into me the same way she had when we were dating and after we got married. When we first split up I couldn't sleep because she wasn't there, I had become so used to her touch. It was probably 2 months before I finally started to adapt. I hoped it wouldn't happen again when she finally left.

[::::::::::]

I dreamt of Annie that night.

I'd dreamt of her the night she died and again the following night. I saw her in the distance and spent most of the time trying to chase her down, thinking it was real and that she was alive and that I could save her. When I finally caught her she wasn't really there, of course, and told me I needed to chase what I needed to be happy. She didn't answer when I asked what that was.

Tonight's dream was similar, except that I got an answer, though it wasn't especially helpful. 'Listen to your heart', she said. That was all well and good except all my heart was saying was that I wanted Annie back. What good was that?

[::::::::::]

Once again, I was awake before Brenly, even though I hadn't slept much, and had no other dreams of note. And so, like I had last night and so many times before, I lay in bed watching her sleep. She was so incredibly peaceful when she slept. Some people scrunch their eyes, or constantly reposition, or even kick. Brenly had always looked like an angel, laying still and completely at rest. I had always envied her that.

"You're watching me sleep again," she said, this time without even opening her eyes.

"I am. It calms me."

"Any plans for today?"

"No. If there's something you want to do we can do it, but I don't have a plan, no."

"I should stop by my apartment and check the mail, maybe get some changes of clothes."

"I guess we have a plan, then. But there's no rush."

I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. I don't really know what I was thinking with regard to Brenly. I knew I missed her, had ever since we'd gotten divorced. And it was nice, and probably necessary, to have someone here after Annie's death. That was about as far as I had gotten. Of course, I wondered what she was thinking as well. Was she just trying to be there for me, for someone she cared about who had nobody left in the world, or was she looking for more.

We'd been taking things day by day and I imagined we would continue to do so. I certainly wasn't inclined to make any sudden decisions.

We stayed in bed for another hour just relaxing and cuddling. Finally, our growling stomachs let us know that would no longer be tolerated and we reluctantly got out of bed and put real clothes on. We hadn't remembered to put Brenly's clothes in the washer last night so she'd have to wear them again, at least until we got to her apartment so she could change, so that was at the top of the list.

I went in with her, looking at the place she called home. It was small, just one-bedroom. She was an intelligent woman and had a good job as the assistant events coordinator for a local company. She'd been working for them when we were married, though just as a worker bee. Annie had mentioned her promotion during one of our conversations. I was proud of, and happy for, her.

I followed her into her bedroom where she was going to get some outfits for the next few days, and she wasn't fast enough when she put the frame on her bedside table face down to stop me from seeing that it was a picture of us. The same picture, in fact, that hung on my bedroom wall back at Annie's.

"We'll stop at the mailbox on our way out, if that's okay."

"I don't know, Bren. The schedule's pretty full today. Not sure we'll have time."

That earned me a smack on the arm as she grabbed some of her girly stuff from the bathroom, and I mean hair bands and special shampoos and the like, not the girly stuff you probably thought I meant.

We stopped for lunch, this time at Olive Garden because Brenly was in the mood for Italian food. We lingered over the free salad and breadsticks, and truthfully could have just had our entrees packed to go because we had made ourselves so full. We each took a few cursory bites, just to say we had, before asking for the to-go boxes. More leftovers to add to the refrigerator.

Rather than just going back to the house, we decided to take a drive. I hopped on the interstate while Brenly opened her phone and used the map to find us something that looked interesting. With that decided we settled in for a relaxing ride on the roads.

The scenery had been beautiful and we stayed on the road for hours. We filled the tank and had dinner at a small roadside diner that was well off the beaten path, and in a place we would never likely pass again. It was basic American grill. I got a burger and she got a chicken sandwich, and we shared a basket of perhaps the best fries I've ever had, though the burger and chicken were nothing special.

It was late by the time we got back to the house. I had planned to check the mail myself, Bren having reminded me I hadn't done it in a few days when she checked her own. But it was dark and I was tired, and I decided it would keep for another day.

We took our showers and met in the middle of my bed, and for the first time in a week I slept well.

[::::::::::]

I woke refreshed to Brenly brown eyes focused on me rather than having mine on her, which was far more common.

"Watching you sleep is my thing," I chided jokingly. "Get your own."

"Any good idea is worth stealing," Brenly answered. "I didn't expect it to be as interesting as it was. The little flinches and twitches are eye-catching. What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't know. I'm usually pretty good about that but I haven't the faintest idea. Anything you want to do today."

"We should work on those leftovers. I was thinking we might just stay around the house today."

"Works for me. I'm going to walk to my mailbox. I haven't done it in a few days."

"How about if I start breakfast while you're gone."

With that plan in place I pulled on a shirt (I slept in just a pair of shorts) and some sandals and headed out the front door. Our subdivision had one of those mailbox clusters that the newer subdivisions had. My parents had lived in an older neighborhood so had delivery right to the mailbox on the house, and I had thought for years that only apartments had central mailboxes.

It was a nice morning, cool and cloudless. I'd made this walk many times, sometimes even in the rain, and almost always enjoyed it. Walking in the rain, as long as it wasn't too cold, was refreshing to me.

I got to the mailbox, fielding an expression of condolence for Annie's passing from Bob and Pauline French. I thanked them for their thoughts and then dug into the mailbox. It was almost full, and some of the items had been bent up as they were stuffed in. Guess I can't let this slide too long in the future.

I organized everything and flipped through the selections. It was mostly junk mail and ads, but there were a couple of Hallmark cards as well. Annie's house didn't have a mantle so I'd have to think of something to do with them. Maybe Brenly had an idea; women always seem to have a solution for things like that.

A little over halfway through the stack I saw something that left me in shock.

I have no memory of walking back to the house or how long it took me to get there. I guess it was a while based on Brenly's reaction when I walked through the door.

"It's about time," she said, a bit of a chuckle coming through at the same time. "I was about to send out a search...Ethan, what's wrong?"

Brenly could always read me well, but I have a feeling the look on my face would have clued anybody in, even if I wasn't completely aware of it myself.

"I...I got a letter..."

"That's hardly a surprise, Ethan. You did just check the mail."

She stared at me while I stared at the letter, trying to see if my mind was playing tricks on me. Brenly was trying to make sense of what the problem was and I wanted to tell her, but what if I was wrong. What if I was reading it wrong or just seeing things? She'd think I was crazy. But no matter how long I looked at it, the writing never changed.

"It's from Annie."

"What?"

Her shock was as total as mine had been. It had been 9 days since she had died, and the letter was postmarked just 3 days ago, which I pointed out to Brenly. It simply wasn't possible, except that the handwriting on the envelope was clearly hers.

"Ethan, how is this possible?"

I looked at her incredulously.

"How the hell am I supposed to know that, Brenly?"

"I'm sorry. It was rhetorical. I didn't expect you to know."

"No, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I should have known that. Could this be someone messing with me?"

"I can't imagine why someone would do that, Ethan. There's only one way to find out."

I looked up at her sharply, knowing she was right. I wasn't sure I could handle that. Brenly took the mail from my hand, including the letter from beyond, and placed it on the counter.

"Come have something to eat, and then you can read it. I'll be right there if you want me to be, or I can leave you alone. C'mon."

She led me to the table, where she had prepared some plates of freshly cooked eggs plus some fruit and cheesy potatoes that were in the leftovers. I ate it absentmindedly and I could feel Brenly's eyes on me the whole time. I got about halfway through the meal before I couldn't eat anymore, and it wasn't because I wasn't hungry.

"Bren, you've been amazing, and I don't think I could have gotten through the last few days without you, but I'm going to open the letter by myself."

"I understand, Ethan. Why don't you do it in her bedroom and I'll be out here when you're done."

I nodded, then got up from the table and went into Annie's room, plucking the letter from the counter on the way. I sat on the bed and stared at the unopened envelope. I still couldn't make sense of it. How did Annie send a letter 6 days after she died?

I opened the letter.

It was clearly in Annie's handwriting; it wasn't just the envelope. The writing was strong so she didn't write it too close to the very end, but it could have been as late as 2 weeks before. She was still strong then.

My dearest Ethan,

I hope this didn't come as too much of a shock to you. I asked one of the hospice nurses to mail it a few days after I'm gone. I wanted the chance to say a few things to you.

First, I love you. More than I ever loved anyone in this world, Ethan, I loved you. More than mom, and certainly more than dad, and more than anyone I ever met. I know you wondered why I never got married, and it's because I never found anyone I could love like I loved you, and I couldn't marry you. That sounds creepier than I intend it to be but I think you get the point.

I'm sorry for dying on you. I know that sounds odd. I had a good life, even if it was too short, and the thing I regret the most is leaving you alone. We were the only 2 children of only-children. Our parents are gone as well as any other relatives we may have had. It was just the two of us against the world, and I'm so sorry for leaving you to fight alone.

I guess that brings me to the main point of this letter: Brenly.

She has no idea I'm writing this so don't be upset with her. You know we remained close after the divorce, despite how angry I was with her. She explained her thoughts and feelings to me, and I believe both that she was telling me the truth, and that she sincerely regretted her choices. She's grown a lot since then.

We talked a lot over the last few months of my life, mostly by electronic devices. After you quit your job and moved in, she wasn't comfortable with coming in person. She was of great comfort to me, Ethan. Thank you for bringing her into my life.

Ethan, I know you were hurt, and I know you were angry. No one, myself and Brenly included, blame you for going through with the divorce. She was scared and she made the wrong choice, the immature choice. It's not only older women that try to cling to their youth.

In the end, Ethan, I forgave her. I loved her more than I hated what she did, and I think you do to. You've told me how you feel like taking her back would be telling people, and her in particular, that you were weak. I think you even used the word wimpy once. But I think you're wrong. I think nothing requires more strength than to understand that people make mistakes, make poor decisions, even do things they know are wrong. True strength, Ethan, is the ability to forgive.

She loves you, Ethan, and would like another chance. She wasn't going to come to the funeral, even though she desperately wanted to be there for you, because she didn't want to seem like she was taking advantage of an emotional time in your life. I insisted she come, knowing you would need her, if only for a few days.

As I prepare to go into the next world, whatever that world is, I can say this with the utmost confidence: She'll fight, Ethan. She'll fight the world beside you, like I should be doing. She'll fight for you, and most important of all, she'll fight for your marriage. She's not the woman she was back then. She is strong and proud and independent, and she'll make you a good wife this time.

The most important thing is that you're happy. I think that trying again with Brenly would make you happy, but only you know that for sure. All I'm saying is that I don't want you to make yourself unhappy in the process of punishing Brenly for making a mistake of youth and immaturity. And I certainly don't want you to be unhappy because you're afraid of what people will think.

That's all I've got, little brother. It's up to you now, and I will support you, as much as I can from this side, in any decision you make.

I love you to the moon and back.

Your sister for all eternity,

Annie

It took a long time to get through the letter the first time. It's hard to read when your eyes are filled with tears. And then I read it twice more. It wasn't just what she said but that it was her last words. God, I missed her.

I got myself together and went back into the living room. Brenly was sitting on the sofa and had turned on the stereo to a soothing volume.

"Are you all right, Ethan?"

"Um, yeah, I think so. She wrote it a while ago but asked a nurse to mail it after she...well after."

"Mystery solved."

She took the letter from my hand.

"C'mon, let's go lay down for a while."

She set the letter down on the nightstand and peeled my shirt off me. She pulled the covers back and guided me to my side of the bed and had me lay down. She pulled the covers over me, then went to her side of the bed and climbed in, molding her front to my back. I wasn't sleepy but the quiet, the gentleness, was exactly what I needed. She ran her hands over my arms and chest, relaxing me even more. She knew me perfectly.

I opened my eyes. I guess I had been sleepy after all. I could hear Brenly's light sleep-breathing so I turned, as gently as I could, to face her. It was probably another 30 minutes before she opened her eyes. This time she just smiled, without the accusation that I was watching her sleep again.

"Are you okay, Ethan?"

"I am. Much better, actually."

I pulled her to me and placed a kiss on her lips. God, that felt good! And Brenly instantly knew what I had in mind.

"Ethan, are you sure?"

I smiled.

"I love you, Bren. Always have. I'm as sure as I've ever been of anything."

She sat up and pulled off the t-shirt she'd been wearing, baring her beautiful, perky breasts.

"Then take me, my love."

I got out of my shorts and she slid out of the pajama shorts and panties she had been wearing to bed. Her pussy still carried the fine glazing of fur that it always had. I resisted the urge to go right for her pussy; it had been a long time and I wanted to touch her there, but I was even more interested in making this last. We had never been ones for frenzied couplings and we weren't about to start now.