Eighty-Sixed: Chapter 31 - In-Law

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A pair of hunch-shouldered old men stood on a driveway in the early morning summer, peering with admiration under the hood of what should have been an ancient Dodge Polara that instead now looked practically brand new. The car nearly sparkled. The old men waved at Gordon as he slowly drove past.  

Past another home, an elderly woman knelt before a bed of still-blooming daffodils as she pulled out weeds she’d most likely already plucked years before.  Three doors down, another elderly couple waved from their porch swing as Gordon went by.

The world, it seemed, was slowly waking up to this new world, this new reality, where everything new was actually from a not-so-distant past.  Gordon was surprised to see how easily so many of these people - himself included - managed to transition so effortlessly back into these old lives of theirs. In fact, particularly among many of those who found themselves back among the living, Gordon noticed a nearly unquenchable joy.

Within minutes Gordon pulled into the parking lot of Delores’ apartment building. He and Marie had visited here nearly every Sunday afternoon in the years after they were married. Gordon lightly tapped the apartment door and his mother-in-law answered almost immediately, fully dressed for the day, hair done up in a bun, and a heavy dusting of makeup brushed across her cheeks and lips.  Delores was all set for socializing, perhaps ready for a few rounds of cribbage or a walk through the park across the street. 

“Oh, bless you,” she said. Gordon’s arms were weighed down with the bags of cat food he’d taken from Hewing Grocery.  “Rascal is nearly out of food.  And I’m afraid to eat any of the food in the kitchen.”

“Is it spoiled?” Gordon asked.

“I have no idea.  But the man on the news keeps saying how everything is forty years older than we think, including us, so we should be careful.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Gordon said. He’d had little to eat since all of this happened, despite his fridge full of leftovers from the reception after Marie’s second funeral.  “But I’m sure the food is fine.”

“I must be one of the world’s oldest people,” Delores said.

“How’s that?” 

“Well, I was seventy when Marie died.  So I guess that makes me a hundred and ten now.”

“Can we talk, Delores?”

“I did make tea,” his mother-in-law answered.  “I don’t think tea bags go rotten.  Or at least they didn’t smell like they did.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Gordon repeated.

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They sat in Delores’ small living room where Rascal was curled up the floor in a bright sunbeam that broke through the picture window with its view of the parking lot.  Rascal rolled onto his back, his white furry belly exposed and his legs raised, oblivious to everything but the warmth of sunlight.

“How did you do last night?” Gordon asked.

“You know,” Delores said, delighted, “I slept like a baby! I still don’t know what’s happening, really, but I’m not at all concerned about it. I can’t believe how good I slept. Didn’t wake up one time. How about you?”

“It was strange to bury Marie all over again.”

“Of course it was,” she said.  “But it was nice somehow, too.  That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? But it was. It was just lovely somehow. I suppose that doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“No, it does.”

“It was like we were finally able to get closure somehow. More so than, well, the first time, I guess.”

“I agree.”

Gordon fell silent and stirred his tea.

“Go ahead and say it,” Delores finally said. “I can tell you’ve made a decision about something.”

Gordon looked up at her and smiled.  He always appreciated Delores, her independent spirit and unending optimism.  

“I think of driving south.”

“South? I knew it was somewhere else, but I didn’t think you’d say south.”

“I’ve never seen Florida,” Gordon answered. He set his tea down on the coaster Delores had placed for him on the end table. 

“Florida?”

“I’m thinking Key West.”

“Hemingway territory,” Delores said.

“Hemingway?”

“Ernest.  The writer,” Delores said.  “He lived there for a while.”

“Ah,” Gordon said.  “Well, you know me.  I was never much of a reader.  That was more Marie’s thing.  She wanted me to be a reader.  Always called my chair my reading chair as a joke, though I only ever read the newspaper.”

“So when will you go?”

“Now,” he said.  “I’ve already packed the car. And you’re welcome to come along with me.”

“I’d just slow you down.”

“Not at all.”

“Gordon,” Delores said and smiled at him.

“What will you do, then?”

Delores set down her tea and scooted closer to Gordon.  She folded her wrinkled and vein-mapped hands over her son-in-law’s left hand, covering the ring her daughter had placed there decades before.

“I’m fine right here,” she said.  “As a matter of fact, not only did I have the best night’s sleep ever, but I feel happier than I can ever remember feeling. Second chances are nothing to take for granted. There’s nothing like a second chance, you know? To do things over again, but better this time. A fresh start. A clean slate.”

“You did fine the first time around.”

“But it was all meaningless,” Delores said.  “When Marie died I all but stopped living. I was nothing more than a bookend after that.  I just sat there, letting everything happen around me, collecting dust.”

“That’s not true.”

“It most certainly is.  And I remember waking up every morning after she was gone thinking I was just wasting my life away. I sat through so many hands of bridge and playing dominoes I may as well have done nothing at all.  What did all those games get me?  What did they get anyone?”

Gordon sat silently, staring at his knees.

“You need to just go,” Delores told him.  “Don’t waste your second chance.”

“I’d feel bad leaving you behind.”

“Is this just a vacation, or something more permanent?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Gordon said.  “But I don’t know if I’ll be back.  For that matter, I’m still not even convinced any of this really happened.  I still wonder if I’m just stuck in some vivid dream. Or maybe it was me who died and this is some sort of backward way that my life is flashing before my eyes. But if it really did happen, what’s to stop it from happening again?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well we’re supposedly all suddenly in 1986,” Gordon said.  “Just zapped here like nothing.  Emergency plane landings all night.  People missing.  People back from the dead.”

“Like me.”

“Well, yes, Delores.  Exactly. I buried you, too.  So it’s all very hard to understand.  And if this is real, what’s to say tomorrow I won’t wake up and everything will be back as it was. Maybe I’ll be back at WalMart. Or maybe I’ll be gone this time. Or maybe there will be nothing at all.”

“You worry too much,” she said.  “You always worried.”

“You can come with me,” Gordon said again.

“You just don’t want to feel guilty.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about, Gordon. You already took care of me once, when I should have been taking care of myself anyway. I shouldn’t have put that burden on you.”

“You were never a burden.”

“I’m supposed to be here,” Delores said.  “And I’m fine with that.  And I’m fine with you going, too.”

“I don’t have to go.”

“Stop it, Gordon,” she said.  “Just stop it.  You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders ever since Marie died, and you always try to make things better. You were the best husband I could ever have wanted for my daughter.  But you don’t have to carry this weight anymore.  I’m taking that weight away from you. You’ve been given a second chance here.  A new life. We all have.  You can choose to still live under the weight of the past, or you can live the new life that’s waiting for you.  Grab it, Gordon. Grab that life. Grab hold of it and take it, Gordon. Go and live.”

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