Gift Of A Lifetime

A Short Story By Keith C. Milne

ONE

The rusty, dented, rattling, old gray truck with a homemade rear bumper constructed from a pressure treated 4 x 4 wood rumbled into the parking lot of Mountain View Medical Center, and pulled into the parking space still doing 15 mph. The door slowly opened, groaning like it was in terrible pain and almost ready to detach.
Lawrence Kendall slowly eased himself out, then almost fell by misjudging the distance from his floorboard to the parking lot below. Pissed off, or more likely embarrassed, he slammed the door, and slowly began the long journey to the entrance.

Dr. Samantha Pennington finished her break and stood up to go back to work. As she rounded the break table and headed towards the door, she glanced outside as she passed by the big window that faced the parking lot, then stopped dead in her tracks. She saw Lawrence shuffling and struggling to get up the slight incline from the bottom half of the parking area and shouted for help, “BRIAN! Get a wheelchair out to Mr. Kendall Stat! He needs help getting inside safely for his wellness check!”

“Right away Dr. Pennington!” Brian grabbed a wheelchair and hustled away with it heading towards the entrance.

Samantha returned her gaze back to Lawrence. She had seen him previously three separate times at his home for blood pressure checks and medication management. He wasn’t demented, yet, just easily confused, especially when it came to anything medical or electronic or anything involving complex terminology.

Lawrence looked shockingly white to her now. Even with his ball cap on, she could see the sun damage to his face and neck. His shuffle was deliberate, just like she remembered him being during their last visit. That was almost six months ago.

Now his hair was almost completely gray, and he looked extra weather-beaten and tired. Normally, he was a fairly quiet, pretty conservative guy who mostly kept a stone face, and seemed to prefer looking down when walking.

Sometimes, Lawrence grumbles under his breath incoherently. If you ask him what he is saying, he stops mumbling and just stares out into space for a long, uncomfortable minute, and then suddenly looks at you with a gaze so fierce that it’s hard to maintain eye contact with him. You can’t help it. You just want to look away and get some relief from that intensity!

When Samantha first met him, he seemed to have an air of buried anger smoldering beneath the surface of that stone face. She also remembered he smelled of a strange blend of old spice cologne mixed with Irish Spring soap, and tobacco. If asked though, he always denied using any tobacco.

Oddly, he had chosen that visit to lecture her on the importance of wearing only white cotton socks, and changing them daily! He was adamant about it, as if he alone had discovered a little known secret that he was now sharing with her because she had come to visit and help him at home.

Samantha had been afraid to leave him alone after that visit. He appeared to be indirectly hoarding by simply never getting rid of anything. He had dirty dishes overflowing the sink onto the counter that millions of ants were swarming over. The entire house was filthy, dusty, and unkempt. Mail was piled high on the dining room table. The television was blaring so loudly that the telephone could barely be heard ringing in the background. Most of the food inside the refrigerator had mold or fuzzy hair growing on top of it. Mentally, Lawrence was still fine, but Samantha could see that he was clearly depressed, struggled a lot, and needed help.

Through the window, she watched Brian help Lawrence into the wheel chair. At first, Lawrence seemed to fight with Brian about it, then he finally sat down in the chair and let himself be wheeled the rest of the way in for his checkup.

A minute later, the sound of Lawrence clearing his throat so loudly the whole ward could hear it, as he bellowed on about people driving too close to him all the time.

“Ahem!, Why the HELL do people drive so damn close to my bumper nowadays, HUH!? WHY!?,” he belted out. “Ahem!, I know my old truck is dented already, ahem, but it’s all I got and it makes me nervous when people are right there, inches away, ahem, all the damn time! It’s hard to drive. Ahem!, one of these days I’m going to be so busy watching some idiot in my rearview mirror, that I’ll mow someone over without even seeing her! AHEM!”

Lawrence constantly clears his throat loudly with obvious irritation when speaking. It often leaves those who speak with him confused, wondering if he is is irritated with them, or if this behavior is just his normal way of conversing.

Samantha saw Lawrence and gave him a big smile as he rounded the corner from the entranceway. He greeted her with a perfunctory grunt, “Ahem, Dr. Pennington, why did I need to come in here today? Ahem, it’s not easy for me to drive anymore or, for that matter, even get dressed anymore, ahem. What’s the deal? Ahem!”

“Nothing is ‘up’ Lawrence, we had a couple of people who do home visits call in today, and, since getting promoted to Hospital Director, I still see patients, but no one new, and I no longer make home visits because I’m needed here everyday. Here, let me get you into a room for your checkup. Are you cold? I can have the nurse bring you a blanket.”

“Ahem, no, I’m all set, thank you, Ahem.” Lawrence felt himself relax a little. Dr. Pennington had a way of always making him feel calm and relaxed. He had learned that he was in good hands with her, and it helped that she was pretty, smelled good, and treated him with a lot of respect, and pretty much like a king.

Lawrence wore his usual uniform of jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a sweater, and worn suede loafers with white socks. Samantha noted how tired Lawrence appeared.

“Have you been able to get plenty of food Lawrence?”

“Ahem, yes, I still get down to the store once a week, and my neighbor checks on me here and there. Ahem, If I forget something, Ray usually has what I need, then I pay him back later. Ahem. Don’t you want to listen to my heart, or thump on my chest or something? Ahem!”

“Lawrence, this ‘wellness check’ is not a physical one, it is a situation check of sorts. Understand? I’m going to ask you some questions about your current living situation, and I really need you to answer me honestly, okay?”

“Ahem, Okay.”

“Are you still able to bathe okay and perform your own personal care?

“Yes, I manage with that stuff alright.”

“I see you only take one prescription for acid reflux, and a multivitamin, is that correct?”

“Ahem, yep!”

“I noticed you having some balance issues after getting out of your truck today. Is that happening a lot?”

“Ahem,” then Lawrence paused and it was obvious that he was really thinking about what he was just asked, “Ahem, Yes, it’s happening more frequently, but usually when I first get up in the morning, or in the middle of the night to relieve myself.
Ahem, I can’t stand very long anymore and I’m not really able to clean the house like I should because of it. Ahem, but I’m fine, ahem, I get by and can, ahem, still take care of myself just fine. Ahem.”

Samantha smiled, “Well, you seem to be doing pretty well over all. I’ll tell you what I’d like to do, Lawrence. I’d like to set you up with some assistance. Would that be okay with you?”

“Ahem, what kind of assistance? I don’t want just anybody coming into my house and doing things. I don’t think I’d like that one bit! Ahem.”

Samantha responded immediately as if expecting his questions, “I was thinking of some housekeeping, meal prep, and personal care assistance.” As a matter of fact, I had my assistant contact the home care agency and they can send someone out tomorrow, isn’t that great?”

Lawrence looked at her with his famous fierce gaze that has scared many people over the years. “Ahem, tomorrow?! Wow! Ahem, that’s fast. Ahem, I don’t know if I really need all that help, ahem, I do better when I do for myself. Ahem, most folks just mess things up and make things harder for me. Ahem, I end up redoing what they do after they leave. Ahem.”

Samantha met his gaze for a minute, “How about I make you a deal Lawrence, but you have to promise me that you’ll be fair and give it a real chance. How about you agree to have someone assist you for a month. After that, if you still want to try doing things more independently, then we’ll reassess you, deal?”

Lawrence bowed his head a little, “Ahem, do you really think I need this?” thinking this was just another notch towards his ultimate demise.

“I do, Lawrence. But even if your NEED for this help comes into question, you certainly would benefit from it, so why not embrace it. Besides, I think it would do you some good to have someone around you a few times per week to talk to while he/she is helping you with things at home.”

“Ahem, HE? There are men doing this work? Ahem, I wouldn’t want another man doing for me, NO WAY! AHEM!”

“Okay, no worries, we’ll make sure that you get a woman helper. So we have a deal then?”

“Ahem, I’ll try it, I guess, Ahem, deal. Ahem.”

TWO

The next day at 9:00 a.m. sharp, Abigail Morales knocked on Lawrence’s front door. She thought for a second she heard a thump, but discounted it, and knocked again. Nothing. Now she was worried, and decided to check to see if the door was locked. It wasn’t. She slipped in and stood for a second to get her bearings. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was horrified at the piles of mail, the piles of newspapers, piles of washed tin cans and glass bottles.

Abigail tiptoed further into a larger room, full of even more odds and ends, some of it organized beyond belief, but most of it was just randomly sitting around everywhere, mixed up with everything else sitting around everywhere, making the interior of the house appear as though someone, or a group of people had just dumped all of their leftover stuff that they couldn’t unload at their tag sales.
As she moved through the room, she stepped on something that made a loud crunching sound.

“AHEM, Who’s there? I hear you!, Ahem.”

“It’s Abigail Morales from the agency, Mr. Kendall, I’m going to be your new helper. I’m here to meet you and get started with some simple tasks today. If you’ll let me.”

“Ahem, Abigail you said?, Ahem.”

“Yes, Abigail Morales from the home care agency.”

“Ahem, please come here, Abigail. I lost my balance again when I got up too fast out of my chair to answer your knock, Ahem.”

Abigail dropped her purse and her bag and ran into the den as fast as she could without tripping on one of a myriad of objects lurking in the shadows, like hidden mines
near the edges of what appeared to be the path to get through the room.

Lawrence was lying on his side next to his big recliner. The TV was on, but muted. The flashing images from the screen illuminated the room like a lightning storm, with bolts flashing their light through the windows after the power has been lost.

“Oh, Mr. Kendall, let me help you up!” After helping him sit up, she got behind him, hooked her arms past his armpits, grabbing her own hand with the other and, with Lawrence’s help, both of them using their legs, got Lawrence standing up again.

“Ahem, thank you so much! I was only there for a few minutes, Ahem, but when I fell, it knocked the wind out of me and I couldn’t shout or say anything loud enough to be heard. Ahem, I was hoping you wouldn’t take too long to find me. Ahem.”

“Well, Mr. Kendall,”

“Ahem, call me Lawrence, please!”

“Well, Lawrence, how do you do? As I’ve said, I’m Abigail Morales from the home care agency. I’m going to be here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for awhile. How about I get you a nice cup of coffee and a donut that I just bought fresh at the donut shop? Sound good?”

Lawrence looked up at her standing in front of him. He didn’t realize that, while he was admiring Abigail’s appearance, he was also giving her the fierce look. She was petite, with long, black hair and dark brown eyes. She kept her hair in a neat bun for work. She was slightly stocky, and obviously strong. She stood in front of him with a big smile, dressed comfortably in stretch jeans, a cotton blouse buttoned up high, and some supportive walking shoes looking anxious to get started with something.

“Do you do that look when you want to scare people Lawrence?”

“Ahem, what look? Ahem. I’m looking at you! Ahem. You look a little bit like my wife, Ahem, that’s all. Sorry, I have been told that I look pretty scary at times. Ahem, but I’m not trying to look that way, Ahem, on purpose, Ahem. It’s partly from the way my face has aged, Ahem, all my wrinkles coalesce to conspire against me, Ahem. I can see in the mirror, Ahem, and would think the same, Ahem. My apologies. Ahem, a black coffee and a donut would be fantastic, Ahem. I haven’t had coffee from outside or a donut, Ahem, in years!”

“I’ll get you all set with those. Then I’m going to clean up in the kitchen, and then I’ll make you a sandwich, good?”

“Great! Ahem, but what are you going to make the sandwich with? Ahem, I can’t think of a thing, except some old, Ahem, peanut butter to make one with. Ahem, no bread either. Ahem.” Lawrence looked at her as if this was some kind of a test.

“You are covered on all counts, Lawrence. I’d never been here before and I had no way of knowing what you did or didn’t have. Therefore, I made an executive decision on the way over here and stopped at the store and bought everything to make you a nice turkey sandwich. I also bought some coffee, bottled water, condiments, some chips, and some cleaning supplies. I get reimbursed for my expenses so I figured better to be prepared with what was needed today so we could get off on the right foot.” She gave Lawrence one of her 1000 watt smiles that made even the surliest person lighten up. “I’ll be right back, Lawrence.”

“Ahem, Okay . . . ahem, thanks.” Lawrence sat back. He turned the television off and just listened to the sound of Abigail making his sandwich and thought, Hmmm . . . this might be okay after all.

Abigail brought him his sandwich, some chips, and a chocolate chip cookie with some freshly made coffee. It was delicious! Lawrence couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten so good, and the coffee tasted as good as it smelled.

“Thank you for lunch, Abigail. It was really good. How’d you get the coffee tasting so good? I’ve been making my own coffee for the last twenty years and have never achieved flavor that good.”

“Well, hmmm . . . I use fresh ground coffee, I make it with filtered water, and I’m careful how much I use, so that it turns out balanced. It’s not hard to make good coffee, really. The biggest ‘secret’ of all though, is using a good quality coffee to begin with.”

“AHEM, well, no wonder I made terrible coffee! Ahem, I used canned Maxwell House, pre-ground, tap water, and just eyeball the amount! How much did you use for this batch? Ahem, you made a whole pot?”

“Yes, I made a whole pot and I normally use 1/2 cup for a whole pot.”

“I’m going to remember that.”

“I’ll write it down for you and place it near the pot for reference.”

“Ahem, 1/2 cup eh?, thanks for that tip. I can’t believe I haven’t figured some of this out after all these years.”

Lawrence was thrilled with Abigail coming three days per week and began secretly wishing she’d come every single day. He asked her about her life a little, not wanting to pry too much, and was surprised how much she shared with him about herself and her family. All Lawrence had to do was ask.

She had grown up locally, went to school locally, and lived alone in an apartment in the heart of town. She was gone a lot so she had no pets or plants, and her job sometimes required her to stay overnight with clients when she did double duty as a hospice worker. That largely kept her from meeting anyone worthwhile, and from having any dates.

Lawrence learned that helping others was extremely important to her, and although she seemed usually very happy and upbeat, he often sensed an underlying sadness in her, and wasn’t sure why.

Out of curiosity, she asked him about the pictures on the Mantle. He shared with her that they were pictures of his deceased wife and son, then he shared the story of how he lost them and ended up living alone for the last twenty years.
He told her how he had been at work and received a phone call that Beth had been in an accident, and that he needed to come to the hospital right away. When he arrived finally arrived, both Beth and James had already passed and been officially declared dead from the internal injuries sustained in the collision.

According to witnesses, a white pickup truck driven by the 22 year old man who died at the scene, driving with a blood alcohol level nearly three times the legal limit, didn’t slow down even a little bit as he drove right through the red light of the intersection only two miles from home. Beth had just picked James up from school, and they were both on their way home.

After that happened, Lawrence told Abigail that he just sort of died inside. Nothing felt right or happy to him anymore. He just didn’t give a damn or care about anything after that. He lost his job from poor performance. He spent down all savings and eventually had to apply for food stamps.

A couple of months after the accident, a well dressed man knocked on the front door identifying himself as an attorney, and asked if Lawrence had a minute. As it turned out, the attorney had read about “the accident” in the local paper and wanted to represent Lawrence. After going over the particulars of the case, the attorney thought that they had a really good shot at winning a substantial amount by suing the deceased man’s insurance company for wrongful death. After hearing a little more about the ins and outs of how that works, Lawrence agreed.

After nearly two years of haggling back and forth between the attorneys on both sides, there was still no resolution. Unfortunately, things were growing worse with Lawrence’s financial situation, and he was served one day when a process server knocked on the front door. The bank who held his mortgage was foreclosing on his home for non-payment(s).

Luckily, the insurance company they were suing finally decided to settle out of court. With his settlement money, Lawrence had been able to pay his mortgage off entirely, as well as the back taxes owed to the town. The rest was put into a trust account that is setup to pay him a monthly stipend for the rest of his life, and provide him with a spending account of cash for any emergencies that might arise over the years. Lawrence was left with no monetary worries to contend with whatsoever.

Once things settled down after a few weeks, he occasionally started to feel happy again. He liked the feeling, and it made him realize that he had not felt that way in quite some time.

As the months rolled by, Lawrence became very comfortable with Abigail, and she with him. Having her help him was the best thing that had happened to him in over twenty years. As he grew to know her, he began to smile again. Eventually, he smiled more than he frowned.

He had lost some weight, and had a sparkle in his eye again. He felt lighter overall both inside and out. He had even started taking limited walks with Abigail. A block and back, then two, then a half mile, then a whole one.

Abigail did an amazing job cleaning and organizing Lawrence’s house. Now, he actually liked getting up in the morning and opening the curtains wide. All the clutter, boxes, piles, and stacks had been gone through and decisions had been made about what to keep, what to recycle, and what to trash. He had his house back, and in many ways he was starting to feel like he had his life back.

THREE

Abigail drove Lawrence to his next wellness check. Dr. Pennington was amazed at how much Lawrence had improved since their last visit where she had arranged for his assistance. She told him his blood sugar, cholesterol, and triglycerides were all greatly improved and near normal. She was astounded that he had also completely stopped clearing his throat all the time! “Keep up the good work, Lawrence!” she exclaimed with a big smile as he walked out to the waiting room to leave.

On the drive back, Lawrence notice that Abigail had been very quiet and had said little in response to his good medical news. “What’s going on with you today, Abbie?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she quickly answered using a tone that told Lawrence that she didn’t want to discuss whatever the problem really was, but he pressed anyway.

“Come on Abbie! I’ve told you things I never thought I would ever tell another human being ever, so please do me a favor and spill the beans for me. I’d love to help somehow.”

“It’s nothing, really, Lawrence. I’m just thinking about things that make me feel bummed about my situation, that’s all.”

“Like what? Just tell me, PLEASE!”

“Well, I was trying to see this guy and really liked him and thought I was falling in love with him, but he just broke up with me because he says that I’m gone too much and he doesn’t like that he can’t count on me being home when he is home, and he hates having to always ask me about my schedule, so he said he was done.”

“Wow! Abbie, I’m so sorry to learn about this. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise though. Any one worth having in your life permanently would never be so selfish, you know?”

“That’s what I thought too! But I keep second guessing myself about it. Okay, now I won’t. I’m glad, now, that we talked about it. The other issue is that I’m so worried that I won’t find someone worthy to marry before my biological clock runs out and then I won’t ever be able to have any kids, and I really want to be a mother and have a couple of kids. I’m already 42 and my time for having that without issue is running out. It’s pretty much now or never, you know!? And, I say find someone to marry because I don’t just want to have kids alone, I want to have kids with a partner and for us to be a family, but at this point, I’d still be a single mom over never being one for lack of a man.”

“I completely get it. Damn. I will admit, being a man, that the biological time clock seems to elude me and most men for obvious reasons. I can definitely see how that really would be something to be concerned about as a woman, especially for women who want to give birth and have a traditional family.”

The rest of the trip back to Lawrence’s house was silent. Lawrence felt bad for Abbie. How could life be so unfair? Why did life always deal the best, nicest, most kind, most loving people the worst hands so often!? It’s just WRONG he thought.

Abigail celebrated Christmas with Lawrence that year. She bought a bunch of food and drink and came over to Lawrence’s early Christmas morning. They had a farmer’s breakfast, cleaned up, then proceeded to get started with all the food they would enjoy for dinner that night. First up, the pies.

Lawrence never thought he would ever find himself in an apron in the kitchen cooking and baking, but he was thoroughly enjoying it! This was the best Christmas he had enjoyed since Beth and James’ passing.

That night they feasted on Prime Ribs of Beef with Yorkshire pudding, tossed salad, veggies, and Abbie had brought over the most delicious homemade wine Lawrence had ever tasted. Later, they watched two classics, It’s a Wonderful Life, and Christmas Story and gorged on large pieces of pumpkin and cherry pie with loads of whipped cream.

Lawrence suddenly awoke, not sure of where he was at first. After spotting Abbie lying on the couch against the opposite wall, he realized that they had both fallen asleep during the second movie. He turned off the television, then sat back and watched her sleeping. She looked so young to him, so peaceful while she slept. He felt love and gratitude wash over him as he gazed at her laying on the couch, partly covered by an old blanket that had been knitted by Lawrence’s grandmother nearly half a century earlier.

Abbie was such a kind, loving, soul. He knew his own life was coming to a close, but she deserved to have a good life, and have some of her dreams come true. It was only right, especially in light of how much she did for others constantly. He wondered why things couldn’t have been different for himself and for her.

Christmas quickly ended as it always seems to, and after the last of the decorations were stowed in their boxes for another year, things seemed to finally settle into a nice groove. Lawrence was looking forward to the new year. Before long, Spring would be here again, followed by the long, sunny days of summer, his favorite time of year.

This year, Lawrence and Abigail were going to have their own New Years party. Neither one of them drank alcohol, so most New Years events were less than fun to attend while everyone around them drank too much, often ending up saying or doing things they regretted.

The two of them were planning a simple night. She would come at 4 p.m. to cook a nice dinner, and bake some brownies, then they would watch a couple of Alfred Hitchcock movies before turning on the television to watch the ball drop in Times Square, NY at midnight. Perfect!

Before Abbie arrived, Lawrence decided to make a pot of fresh coffee, and put together a batch of his special movie popcorn in advance. Two full-size microwave popcorn bags popped, put into a bowl while still hot, and then drizzled until thoroughly coated with a premade mixture of a 1/4 cup each of melted butter, brown sugar, and creamy almond butter. Lawrence thought Abbie would agree that it was fantastic even after it completely cooled.

Once the popcorn was ready to go, he poured himself a large mug of coffee, then went over to his favorite chair to take it easy until Abigail showed up. The chair felt good, the quiet added to the comfort, and Lawrence easily slipped into sleep and began dreaming.

He could see Beth driving home, barely able to see, but doing a great job of slowing down and giving herself more time to do what needed doing. He could see James sitting next to her in the front seat. Why weren’t they wearing seatbelts?! Beth stopped at a red light. She was singing something, and trying to get James to do the same thing, but he wouldn’t have any of it. The light turned green, Beth proceeded into the intersection and was directly hit so hard that it was like her car exploded apart from the ferocious impact.

Meanwhile, Abigail was on her way over. Driving along the country road, watching the trees zip by, she felt bad that Lawrence he had lost his wife and only child at the same time all those years ago. The thought of something like that happening to her was jolting, and she knew she could never imagine the true depth of Lawrence’s pain from that experience..

Light pockets of fog were forming as her elevation increased. Coming around the next corner, the road suddenly switched back from one tight curve into another, even tighter turn in the opposite direction. Abbie braked too hard right in the middle of the switchback and her whole car went into a skid and suddenly rotated a full 360 degrees.

All Abigail could see while her car was turning in circles was the blur of the road and the woods on the side passing by her view at high speed. Luckily, once Abbie took her foot completely off of the accelerator, the car quickly stopped spinning and was left sitting in the middle of the road, rather than stopped by a tree.

When Lawrence saw Beth’s car explode in his dream, he saw himself screaming NO!! with all his might, and then everything grew dark. Suddenly, a bright light pierced the darkness far away, and Lawrence could feel himself slowly, but steadily begin drifting towards it. As he grew closer, he felt a deep feeling of peace settle into his chest, and sensed the light was somehow pure love. He embraced the love, the warmth, drifting closer and closer, then drifting into the light, letting the light completely encompass him, bath him, the light soaking into him like water into a sponge until he simply vanished, becoming one with all the energy surrounding and then becoming one with him.

When Abbie caught her breath, she quickly got her car facing the way it needed to be and pulled it off onto the right side of the road. She got out and slowly walked around the car to make sure everything was okay, then realized that she had no recollection of hitting anything and felt stupid for inspecting her car at all.

She got back in, took a really deep breath, and resumed her journey. She was really looking forward to tonight’s festivities with Lawrence. He had, by far, turned out to be her favorite elder client, and they had grown to know, respect, and like each other more than either of them had anticipated. She remembered him telling her several days earlier that he had several surprises in store for her for this evening, and she had grown more than curious about what they might be since then.

As she turned into the driveway, Lawrence’s lights were on and his house seemed somehow extra welcoming. She had been on edge after the spinning incident, and couldn’t wait to get inside, get warm, and tell Lawrence all about it. She quickly parked, grabbed her grocery bags, and headed inside.
“Lawrence, where are you?” She went straight into the kitchen, put the bags down, took her sweater off, and then started pulling items out of the bags. “Lawrence, can you hear me? Where are you? Lawrence!” No answer. Now she was a little perplexed, and a little annoyed. She stopped putting things away and ran to the den.

Lawrence was dead, sitting up in his favorite chair, in his favorite room, fully dressed, coffee sitting next to him still emitting steam, with a smile on his face.

Abbie barely remembered what happened after she called 911. Within 15 minutes police, fire, ambulance, and the coroners van all descended on Lawrence’s place. Abbie was asked to identify herself, and once the introductions were over, she talked about their plans for the night, how long she had been caring for Lawrence, and what types of assistance he needed.

Now alone again after almost two hours of chaos, she went back into the kitchen and slid down into one of the dining room chairs. The quiet was deafening. She felt the pressure of her circumstances, her dead friend, her friendship loss, and began crying.

She cried hard and with passion and cried more than she thought she could. The more she cried, the more memories reeled through her head creating a movie that added to the depth of her emotion. Now the crying became sobbing, and after a couple of hours of cycling between whimpering, crying, and sobbing, over and over again, she finally cried herself quiet.

Abbie moved back into the den and sat down on the carpet, crossed her legs and began rocking back and forth thinking about Lawrence, remembering all they had talked about and laughed about. She loved him, and used to kid him that he was her long, lost father.

She decided to spend the night in the guest room. Staying away from home and not sleeping in her own bed always felt off to her.

Abbie stepped into the guest bedroom and flipped on the light. She stopped for a second to look it over and spotted a wrapped gift sitting on the night stand next to the bed. Curious, she crossed the room and picked the present up. There was a card tucked under the bow with her name on it.

Abbie sat on the bed for almost an hour, periodically looking at the card and the gift, always tearing up and starting to cry all over again each time. Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the envelope and pulled out the card,

Abigail could barely read the last part of the letter as her eyes welled up in tears. She was shaking with disbelief and gratitude. She spent the night rereading the letter and crying. She spent the next week cleaning, straightening things up and deciding what to get rid of. For now, she was content to continue as if Lawrence was still there needing her assistance. More than once she caught herself talking out loud to him while she cleaned, and got goose bumps when she realized what she had been doing. Sometimes, she still felt his presence, not in the room, but in the house in general, and in her heart.

She saw the attorney a couple of weeks later. He verified everything and filed all necessary paperwork to transfer Lawrence’s assets into her name and to her accounts. Right before leaving, he handed her a small satchel that contained a key to a safe deposit box over at the New Dominion bank two blocks down the street.

At New Dominion, she showed her ID, signed the log book, and was shown inside the safe deposit box gallery. The bank clerk retrieved the box and left it with Abigail inside a privacy booth.

Nervous, her palms were sweating like they never had before, Abbie placed the key in the lock, turned the cylinder, and opened the lid. There were only three items inside the box: Lawrence’s Army dog tags, and two business envelopes, a thick one and a thin one.

Abbie opened the thin envelope and pulled out a small card. It was a prepaid certificate from Universal Children LLC. Abbie could choose her donor, then receive what was needed for her to conceive a child utilizing in-vitro fertilization.

Abbie sat back and closed her eyes and began taking, and focusing on slow, deep breaths. After almost 10 minutes of meditation and some self talk trying to calm herself down, she reopened her eyes and picked up the thick envelope. Inside was $100,000.00 in cash and another small note,

Abbie, insurance doesn’t cover in-vitro fertilization, but this should!
Love, Lawrence.

Abbie’s crying and sobbing went on for nearly thirty minutes. The bank clerk finally came and knocked on Abbie’s booth and asked her if she was okay. She opened the booth door and smiled apologetically at the clerk as she rushed away. She quickly scurried through the main lobby and almost ran through one of the big glass doors trying to get out as fast as possible. She finally burst out into the razor sharp sun, completely out of breath, and in complete shock and disbelief of her new situation!

FOUR

November 18, 2023. Lawrence Kendall Morales’s first birthday. Abbie, now pregnant with her second child, decided to celebrate this very special day with a few of her new friends from her maternity group that she attended while carrying Lawrence.
After cake and ice cream, they all went for a stroller walk in the park. His new buddies in the other strollers seemed to love the park too.

Lawrence loved seeing his mom smile and talk, and smile some more, as she slowly walked with her friends, pushing him along on this beautiful day.

Life is so good, and the possibilities are endless.