John fried up some potatoes and unscrewed a jar of pickled gherkins. Today marked a year since Evelyn had passed. The house was quiet, as the clock ticked against the hush. Suddenly, there was a gentle knock at the door.
Youve come then, John said with a small, sad smile, seeing his neighbour, Margaret, standing in the doorway. He stepped aside, inviting her to the kitchen table. They sat together, silence heavier than conversation, memories of Evelyn filling the room without words.
Out of the blue, John reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope. His hand trembled slightly as he offered it to Margaret.
Margaret Evelyn gave me this, right before she His voice wavered, Before she left us. She said it was for you.
Margaret was taken aback. But John, surely this is meant for you?
He simply nodded, pushing it gently toward her. Go on, read ityoull understand.
Margaret prised it open, and her breath caught as she saw Evelyns familiar handwriting.
Margarets son-in-law had promised to pick her up on Saturday. She would have liked to stay at her little cottage longer, but it was late October, and with the water off, it was time to return home for the winter.
Margaret? Mrs. Smith, are you in? John Taylor, her neighbour, called through the door.
Come on in, John. Im still here, just packing up. My son-in-law said hell come for me the day after tomorrow. No doubt hell complain Ive amassed too many bags again, she chuckled, but what am I to do? Most of the things are the harvest. Apples dried, pickles, chutney, jamthe years been kind. Cant just leave it. She stacked a jar in her rucksack. I make it all for them. I hardly need much myself.
Youre quite right, John replied, easing himself into a chair. Im staying on a while yet, though. Takes a brave soul to leave all this autumn beauty behind. Evelyn adored this time of year.
He hesitated, fiddling with something in his handsa battered old envelope.
You remember how we used to close up our gardens together at the end of the season? Your David was here then, and we were all just young. Our children, so small. Everythings overgrown now, but then, the young apple saplings didnt seem like theyd ever grow tall. Anyway, today marks a year since Well, since Evelyn left. I thought maybe we could remember her together. I fried up some potatoes. Have a seat, lets share supperand talk. Theres something Id like to discuss with you, too Will you come?
Margaret nodded, handing him a jar. Here, take some pickles. Ill be over in half an hour when Ive finished packing.
Theyd been neighboursfriendsfor years. Theyd built their cottages together, planted those orchards, lent each other tools, shared summer birthdays. Every summer, their lives ran side by side, and Margarets grandchildren now filled the garden with laughter. Seven years since David had gone, but John and Evelyn were still there to keep her company. Or had been, until last autumn.
Evelyn had gloated a bit about losing weight and looking like a modelthen, so suddenly… This summer had seemed off, too. John, restless without Evelyn, had thrown himself into chores, even digging over beds he had no one to plant out. Margaret had barely seen her grandchildren; thered always been some camp or seaside trip. She sometimes wondered who she was growing all this food for.
Beneath the weight of such thoughts, she changed, gathered herself, and walked next door as promised.
John was waiting, the table set: fried potatoes, tomatoes, the jar of her pickles freshly opened.
Sit down, Margaret. The children will be round tomorrow, but tonight, lets remember Evelyn together. He produced a pile of old photos. LookDavid planting a cherry tree with you, and all of us mushrooming in the woods. Thats us by the barbecuesee the bonfire? Evelyn always squinted at the embers.
He poured two small glasses of sherry. To themEvelyn, my beloved, and your David. For old times sake.
They raised the glasses, the clink echoing the emptiness left behind. John reached for the envelope.
Margaret, please dont be startled. She gave me this last summer, after wed left the cottage for the last time. She stayed strongnever let on. We spent our days reminiscing, watching old films, talking about everything we could. And one evening, she said
His voice grew faint. John, promise me youll fulfil my last request. Its not a plea, but my will. Dont argue, you know me well enough. She pressed this envelope into my hand. Read it, and do as I ask.
He handed it across.
Margaret stared at it for a moment. Butsurely
Read it. Please.
She unfolded the paper, and Evelyns gentle script spoke:
John, my dearest, what can I do? Im leaving too soon. But life must go on. You have to live for both of us. I wish for you to find happiness again. It doesnt mean youll forget me. I cant bear to think of it all ending. From above, I want to see you smiling. Its not wrong, not after how much we loved this life. Perhaps youll meet someone and if you do, I wish it could be Margaret. I always felt she was special to you. Shes a wonderful woman, shell understand. Ask her to walk with you, to share your daysit would be best for everyone. We never gave up on life. Please, John, choose happiness for us both. Yours, always, Evelyn.
Margaret read it againtwicelooking up at John, her eyes searching his.
I promised, John whispered, voice raw with emotion. Id honour her wishes. I wanted you to know. Margaret, lets try. What we have is genuinewarm, true friendship. Theres nothing shameful in choosing happiness. Share your life with me. I promise, you wont regret it.
Margaret was stunned, her mind reeling. Tears pricked her eyes as she considered his words, searching for the truth in them.
All right, John. Ill think about it. Ill tell my son-in-law I need another week here. Lets see, she said softly.
John walked Margaret home in the cool dusk, their footsteps slow and gentle.
That night, Margaret couldnt sleep. Memories flitted before her closed eyes, a silent parade of laughter and loss. As the sky paled, she dreamed of Davidstanding there, grinning with that old, easy smile.
Well? he teased. Its easier together. Marry John. Id be glad to see you happy, Margaret.
The next summer, Margaret and John took down the old fence between their gardens. Now the grandchildren had double the space for their adventures. John built a swing, dug over the beds, and Margaret filled them with all kinds of vegetables and flowers. The big family gathered each weekend, grateful to see their parents looking after each other, not alone.
Some might judge, but above them, whispering through the apple blossom, Evelyn and David simply smiled. The last wishto be happyhad been fulfilled. And so, whatever the world brought, life went joyfully on.
