A Wifes Unusual Will
Veras son-in-law promised to pick her up from the cottage on Saturday morning. Shame to leavethe place was lovelybut it was late October now. The water had been turned off, and it was time to head back to town.
“Veeera! Vera, love, you in there?” Her neighbour, Tom, knocked at the door. “Come in, Tom, Im still here. Just packing up. My son-in-laws coming the day after tomorrow. Hell moan, no doubt, about how many bags Ive got. But what can I do? Half of its just the harvestdried apples, pickles, jams. Not like I can leave it all here. I did it for them, anyway. Not for me.”
“Tell me about it,” Tom sighed. “Im staying a bit longer myself. Autumns beautiful here. Sarah always loved autumn.” He fiddled with an envelope in his hands. “Actually, Vera, thats why I came over. Remember how we used to close the season all together? When your John was still with us, and we were all young? Kids running about. Now the plots are overgrown, but back thenjust bare earth and saplings. Felt like theyd never grow.” He paused. “Todays a year since Sarah Well, I didnt want to mark it alone. Fancy popping over? Ive fried up some potatoes. We can sit, remember her. Andtheres something I need to talk to you about.”
“Course, Tom. Here, take these pickles. Give me half an hour to sort this mess.”
Theyd been friends for decades, ever since their old workplace gave them each a patch of land. Built their homes, planted gardens, celebrated birthdays under the summer sun. Those summers were tiny lifetimes. Now Veras grandchildren visited her herekept her busy. But John had been gone seven years.
Tom and Sarah had stayed good neighbours. Well, until last autumn, when Sarah passed. Shed been so proud of losing weight, joking she looked like a model. Thenjust like that. This summer had felt odd. Tom dug over the vegetable beds, though there was no one to plant them. Just him tinkering in the shed, swearing when things went wrong. And Veras grandkids barely cameoff to camp or the seaside. She didnt even know why shed grown so much this year.
Vera sighed, changed her jumper, and walked over.
Tom had laid the tablefried potatoes, her pickles, sliced sausage. “Sit down, Vera. The kids are visiting tomorrow, but tonightwell remember Sarah.” He pulled out old photos. “LookJohn planting that cherry tree with you. And here we are back from the woods, baskets full of mushrooms. Thats the barbecuesee the smoke? Sarahs squinting.” He poured two small glasses. “To them. To Sarah. And to John.” They drank quietly, crunched on pickles. Then Tom pulled out the envelope.
“Dont be shocked, just hear me out. Last autumn, Sarah faded so fast. We left the cottage in August. By September, she was bedridden. But she stayed strong. We talkedrelived our whole life together. Watched old films. Then one day she made me promise something. Said it was her will.” He pushed the envelope across. “Read it.”
Vera unfolded the paper, Sarahs handwriting unmistakable:
*My love, Im going first. But youve got to live for us both. I* will *you to be happy. That doesnt mean forgetting me. I just cant bear the thought of you breaking down. Dont be afraid to find joy. Maybe youll meet someoneand if its Vera, Id be glad. Shes good, Tom. Shell understand. Ask her to share your life. We never gave up. So live, stubborn as ever. Your Sarah.*
Vera read it twice, then looked up.
“I promised her,” Tom said quietly. “SoVera, lets try. Weve got friendship. Thats not nothing. No one could blame us. Happiness is a blessing. Marry me. You wont regret it.”
Vera was speechless. But as she studied Toms face, something felt right. “Alright. Ill think. Tell my son-in-law I need another week.”
That night, she barely slept. Then, near dawn, John appeared in a dream, laughing. *”Stop fussing. Lifes easier together. Marry the man, for heavens sake. Im glad you wont be alone.”*
By next summer, the fence between their gardens was gone. Twice as many grandkids raced around. Tom built a swing, made bows for the boys. Vera planted enough vegetables for the whole family.
Their grown children visited weekends, relieved their parents had each other.
Maybe some would judge. But Sarah and John? Theyd be smiling. The will to be happy had been fulfilled. And life, stubborn as ever, went on.
