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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 01/31/2025
Lunch with Abe---A Year After
Born 1929, M, from Roseville/CA, United States2024AbeOneYr (Approx. 500 wds.)
Lunch with Abe---One Year After
“Did you do anything special?” asked Abe.
“Not really,” said Paul.
Paul Lerner, a retiree and now a widower of one year was having lunch with his friend Abe Silverman in their retirement community’s restaurant. Paul had barely been able to do anything on the first anniversary of his wife Sally’s passing. Whenever he tried to think of Sally his eyes would begin to tear up. He wasn’t going to tell this to Abe although Abe was his best friend.
“You’re looking better,” said Abe.
“I am?”
“Yeah. You know for a while there we were worried about you.”
“You were? Who’s we?”
“Me and your sons.”
“You talked to my sons?”
“Your oldest called me.”
“I don’t know why? I wasn’t that bad.”
“Well, you did say that it should be a law of nature that when one spouse in a long marriage passed the other should also.”
“I didn’t mean I was ready to kill myself.”
“That’s good.”
At this point their veteran waitress Sylvia came to take their orders. She looked at Paul. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m okay. I’m still here.”
Sylvia said “Hah!” and left.
Paul turned to Abe. :You know it’s funny,” he said. “You remember George our computer guru?”
“Yeah. Why”
“I had a computer problem so he came over. He’s been taking care of his wife for a long time. She had finally passed away.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. I told him from my vast experience that it would get better.”
“That’s what I told you. I didn’t think you believed me.”
“Well, it’s not that immediate any more; like a fresh wound It gets scarred over after a time.”
Sylvia arrived with their meals. “You’re looking better,” she told Paul.”
“Thanks.”
“So stick around.”
“I’ll try.”
“So are you feeling better?” asked Abe.
“Maybe, a little.”
“That’s something.” Abe’s own wife Sarah had passed away five years ago. “Are you writing anything?”
“Something every now and then. I’m supposed to be a writer so I’ve been trying to find metaphors for how I feel.”
“Metaphors?”
“Yeah. Like at first I felt like a shipwrecked sailor washed up on an island while everyone else drowned.”
“Uh, huh,” said Abe.
Paul could see that Abe wasn’t much interested in metaphors. He made a remark about the coming election and they talked about that until they finished their meals. When they got up to leave Sylvia said, “I’ll see you both next week.” It sounded like an order.
Abe had driven Paul. When he dropped off Paul at his house he said “You heard Sylvia. Next week?” Paul answered, “Next week.”
Paul went into his house and sat down in his recliner. Was it really better after a year? He supposed it was. A little anyway. But a law of nature that when one spouse passed the other should also go still wasn’t a bad idea. He was tired after the lunch. He tilted the recliner back and dozed off.
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