Rowan
The First Anniversary
My Charlie died a year ago. It wasn’t a date you marked on the calendar, you just remembered the day your life seemed worthless and pointless. I’ve tried to fulfill the promises I made to her, but with each one accomplished, it felt like I was moving on without her and that made the next one even harder. You’re not supposed to lose your wife before you’d had a chance to love her for a lifetime. We should have had decades together. It was a hard concept to swallow, and even still, I found myself cursing everything around me for stealing her away from me too soon.
An opportunity came up at work for an out-of-state promotion, and since everything here reminded me of the short amount of time I had Charlotte, it seemed like a sign or something. I threw my name in the hat, but with the guys who had much more seniority requesting the change, too, I didn’t think I had a shot in the dark. Nonetheless, I did. Within a few weeks, my bags were packed, flight was booked, and the company found me a small apartment in Manhattan.
Sheena was the only person I knew in the City, so I texted her when I landed and hoped she could help me navigate a little until I got my bearings. Since Charlie died, we kept in touch, but it always felt forced, like we were doing it for Charlie and not for ourselves. However, the second I saw her again after a year, it seemed right for some reason. It wasn’t any secret that Sheena was a huge factor in Charlie’s and my relationship. Hell, if it weren’t for Sheena, I wouldn’t have stood a chance, as my dear wife so eloquently put it before she passed. I’d always be grateful she had such a great friend, and the way things were looking, she’d be a great friend to me.
“Well, look at you all dapper and whatnot. When did you decide to trade the beard for this nonsense?” Sheena joked as I stepped out of the cab at my new apartment. I’d given her the address, and she promised—and delivered—to help me get settled.
“Since New York City doesn’t hold the same values as Portland.”
“Well, you’re looking good, Thorne. Let’s get you settled. It’s not Oregon, but I think you’ll love it.”
I grabbed both of my suitcases and Sheena took hold of my carry-on. Together, we walked the two flights of stairs to my third-floor apartment. When I unlocked the door with the code the office gave to me, I was more than shocked when I walked in. You hear New York City and you either think slum or extravagant, but this was the perfect mix of everything I’d ever want.
“Wow,” I muttered, setting my bags down in the furnished living room.
“You’re welcome,” Sheena whispered.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“It doesn’t hurt having an inside man, Thorne. Who do you think handles the corporate relocation for your company?”
“Damn, I knew you were in real estate, but I didn’t think you were doing it big time.”
“Have I ever done anything halfway?” she laughed, and I joined her.
“You’re too much. I suppose you’re the one who picked the furnishings, too? It feels too much like home, without being home, for some stranger to pick out all this stuff.”
She winked and I knew she had a large part in helping me with this transition, and I couldn’t be more thankful. Sheena walked into the kitchen and returned a few seconds later with two bottles of my favorite beer. Handing me one, she kicked off her heels and sat on the couch where I joined her.
“So how are you doing? Like, really doing?” she asked.
“I miss her,” I sighed. “But I made her promises I haven’t really been living up to, so here I am, I guess.”
“I miss her, too. We had a pretty spectacular person, didn’t we?”
“We sure as hell did. She’d probably be pissed we were sitting around whining about how much we miss her and not doing something fun. So what are we gonna do? You have to know of something around this podunk town,” I teased, and her face tensed. “What? What’d I say?”
“We can go do something after you read this.” Sheena reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. Before she even put it in my hands, I recognized the handwriting on the outside as Charlie’s.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked, confused as to why Sheena had anything from Charlotte for me.
“She gave it to me that day. I was under strict instructions to wait until you came here. I think she was thinking you’d come to visit me, not actually move here.”
“You could have told me you had it. I would have been here months ago.” With my blood boiling, I snatched the letter from Sheena’s hand and carefully tore it open, relishing every second knowing that my wife had touched this very letter. It was written in her handwriting. It was her on a sheet of paper, and I knew I should be thankful to Sheena, but I couldn’t get past the idea of her holding something so precious without telling me.
“I’m gonna go freshen up and leave you alone for a minute.” Sheena excused herself to the bathroom, and I just stared at the folded sheet of paper until I heard the door close behind her.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the note and tears formed in my eyes as I started reading.
My dearest Rowan,
I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you and I hope you know that. The fact of the matter is, there would have been no way for me to end my life on my terms without your unwavering support. I needed you to hold the memories of us while I was still so full of life and not me withering away, endless hospital visits, and waking up every morning wondering if I was dead next to you. My decision was just as much for me as it was for you. It was for us.
Now that I know you’re actually leaving the house, and probably showered, I’m so happy you’re with Sheena. She’s a tough nut to crack and won’t tell you, but she’s not doing so hot. I’m no fortune teller or anything, but I’ve know the girl since I was a kid … she’s on the edge of breaking. And if I know you like I think I do, it’s been quite some time since you’ve even seen Sheena. Tsk tsk tsk.
You two need each other. I need you to have each other. You having Sheena, and Sheena having you, is the only way I’m able to make this choice. It’s the only way I know you’re both going to be okay. So please, make that happen. Have each other.
Now that I’m done with the nagging wife part, I’m going to be the giving wife. The one who’s making things happen from Heaven (if it’s true that it exists, which I’m pretty sure it does since I was blessed with the greatest husband of all time). Sheena had a letter of her own that she was instructed to open when you finally got your ass to New York. She’s making reservations for you two and your meal, including dessert so you don’t try to skip out on the extra fun stuff, is already paid for … you’re welcome.
The only rule for this dinner, other than you being required to show up, is you have to talk. Have a real conversation … with Sheena. You’re going to listen to her complain about her crazy co-workers, you’ll talk about how your family’s doing. Under no circumstances are you to talk about me, unless you’re toasting me for an amazing night out.
I know you didn’t want it, baby, but you get a second chance at life. I would do anything to have one, so please don’t take this blessing for granted. Live for you, not for my illness. You deserve love, and while there will never be a second that I don’t love you with all of my being, I want you to have a tangible love. I want you to roll over one morning and hold a woman you’ve allowed into your heart. But that woman has to know a part of that heart will always remain mine, and she’s out there.
She might even be under your nose …
I love you more than words will ever convey. You’re my perfect.
Forever, always, and beyond,
Charlie
I reread the letter a few times and each time I heard her voice saying the words. It was magical. It was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was starting to forget the way she’d explain things, how she’d pause and wait for gratification, and how much she truly loved me. Time wasn’t on anyone’s side, and Charlie was absolutely right. I was being selfish with the time I’d been given on Earth while hers was cut so short. I owed it to her to not hold back and give it my all.
“Sheena, you can come out now.” Slowly, the bathroom door popped open and she cautiously walked into the living room.
“You okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“I am. Thank you for this, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“You’re good, Thorne. Don’t turn into a sissy on me,” she teased, just like Charlie would have. “Reservation’s in an hour. You’ve got about ten minutes to shower if we’re going to make it. Charlotte gave me explicit instructions on what you should wear and it’s hanging in the closet. I’m going to use the guest room to change, if that’s cool.”
“This is her night, go right ahead.”
I showered quickly, and since my recent haircut, I didn’t have much else to do in terms of getting ready. I stepped out of the master bathroom and stood at the closet staring at the suit Charlie picked out. Simple yet elegant, just like her. I smiled as I dressed. Leave it to Charlie to have plans for all of us while she’s kicking back, relaxing in the afterlife. That woman and her plans.
I walked into the living room in time to see Sheena slipping into a different pair of shoes than she kicked off earlier. Actually, she was wearing something completely different.
“Charlie dress you, too?” I laughed.
“Would I wear something this conservative? At least she got good shoes for me.”
“How long have you known about this?” I asked, wondering how long this plan had been set in place. I know Sheena had our letters since the day Charlotte died, but all of this … it seems pretty extravagant for a last-minute death bed plan.
“When I flew home after the funeral, there was this huge box being held by my doorman. So big he had to carry it upstairs. Inside was this little number, shoes, and a few other things I’m not allowed to tell you about.”
“Not allowed?”
“Nope, and I’m not breaking the rules, dude. She could be up there ready to strike me with lightning or something.” Sheena checked the time, rushed me out the door, and hailed a cab like a pro.
We got to the restaurant, and just like Charlie’s letter had said, we were given the royal treatment: private table, four-course dinner, and of the most decadent dessert I’ve ever eaten, but she would have loved it. As demanded, Sheena and I talked about everything under the sun except Charlie, even though she was in the back of my mind and I’m sure in Sheena’s, too.
On the cab ride back to my apartment, Sheena fished two more letters out of her purse with the words “After Dinner” written on the front, one addressed to me and the other to Sheena.
“Should we open at the same time?” she asked and I nodded. Simultaneously, we opened the envelopes and unfolded the letter.
Baby,
Now you’ve had a real date with a real woman where you didn’t talk about your dead wife. Enjoy your life, Rowan. I’ve done my part. It’s on you now.
Love you too much,
Charlie
“Oh my gosh.” I laughed so hard my stomach started to hurt. That spitfire set me up. Shit, she set both of us up. She knew exactly what she was doing, probably because she knew I wouldn’t do it on my own. I’ve never loved her more.
“I don’t know what mine means,” Sheena said, passing me her letter.
Sheena,
No more duds. You’ve got a good one … Right under your nose …
No more bad weather for you, sister. Tell that storm to go fuck itself; it's time for some sunshine.
Till the end,
Charlie
The cab pulled up to my doorstep, and I held my hand out to Sheena for her to take. “Come up. I know exactly what she means. You’ll get it, don’t worry.”
The End.