**An Unusual Legacy**
Saturday morning, my son-in-law promised to collect me from the cottage. Its a shame to leaveautumns in full swing now, the waters been shut off, and the chills settling in. Time to go home.
“Vera? Vera, love, you in?” Leos voice carried through the door as he knocked. My neighbour for years, ever since we got these plots from the factory. “Come in, Leo,” I called, still packing. “My son-in-laws fetching me the day after tomorrow. Hell moan about the bags, but what can I do? Its mostly preservesapples dried from the harvest, pickles, jams. Not like I can leave it all here.”
“Tell me about it,” Leo sighed, stepping inside. “Ill stay a bit longerautumns lovely here. Elaine always adored it.” He fidgeted with an envelope in his hands. “Dyou remember how we used to close the season together? Back when your Stephen was still with us, and the kids were small. The orchard was just saplings then. Feels a lifetime ago.” His voice softened. “Todays Elaines anniversary. Didnt fancy marking it alone. Fancy some fried potatoes? Ive got a few things to discuss, too.”
Of course I went. Wed been friends for decadesshared birthdays, built sheds, planted trees. Summers felt endless then. Now, my grandchildren visit, but Stephens been gone seven years, and Elaine well, last autumn took her.
Leo had the table laidcrisp potatoes, my pickled cucumbers, sliced sausage. He poured a whisky. “To Elaine,” he said. “And to Stephen.” We ate in quiet, flipping through old photos: Stephen planting cherry trees, all of us laughing by a bonfire, Elaine squinting against the smoke.
Then Leo pushed the envelope toward me. “Elaine left this. Made me promisesaid Id know what to do with it.”
Inside, her handwriting looped across the page:
*”My love, dont stop living because Im gone. Be happynot for forgetting me, but because I couldnt bear watching you fade. Maybe youll find someone. If its Vera, Id be glad. Shes kind. Youve always liked her. Try, Leo. Live stubbornly. Love, Elaine.”*
Leos hands shook. “I swore Id ask. No shame in itwere neither of us strangers to loss.”
I barely slept that night. But by dawn, Id dreamt of Stephen, grinning. “Stop fussing,” hed said. “Twos easier than one.”
Next summer, we tore down the fence between our gardens. The grandchildrentwice as many nowrace between the flower beds Leo dug. He built a swing, carved bows for the boys. The adults visit weekends, relieved were not alone.
Let the gossips talk. Elaine and Stephen would only smile. The legacy was happiness. And life, stubborn as ever, goes on.
