When she encounters a young man drowning himself in books, tucked into the corner at the Woodward County Library, kind-hearted Regan grows curious to know why he's there every day, and more important, she wants to know if he needs help. Not libraria...
We had a pizza picnic on the living room floor, sitting on an old but clean tablecloth. I sat cross-legged while Harry reclined on his side, propped up by one elbow.
"It's a great house, Harry," I said.
"Thanks," he smiled shyly. "Cathryn and I closed on it the day before we got married."
I was slightly shocked simply by the fact that Cathryn had accumulated so much stuff in three short years; even more so that she just let it pile up. I had thought they might have lived here for years before they got married. "After we clean up, maybe I can help you decide what to do with all the new items, the things that you've never used," I suggested.
The pain in his eyes surprised me. "I just don't know how to let any of it go."
"Harry," I said gently, "you don't have any memories attached to these things, do you?"
"No, but I don't know, I guess they represent her dreams. The way she wanted our home to be," he said sadly.
I set my plate aside and pulled Harry up to sit in front of me. We faced each other cross-legged and I brought one hand up to stroke his face. "I understand the need to hold on to some of her. I wouldn't expect it to be any different. But the dreams you had with Cathryn will never be the same without her. So you hold on to your dreams and you hold on to your memories of her." I continued very cautiously, not wanting to overstep my bounds. "But you can't hold on to a life with her...because she's gone."
I expected anger, maybe, or self-defense. Instead, Harry's eyes looked at me with sadness. "I know," he whispered. Then a tear trickled down his cheek.
This was awkward. I was caught in the middle between Harry and his dead wife. I didn't want to rush his grief, but I also wanted to help him let go, in small ways. It was hard to know where my rights began and ended, in a sense.
I moved over to him and wrapped my arms around him, holding his arms against his body in the process. Then I let him go and kissed his cheek. In turn, he captured my mouth with a hungrier kiss. Without breaking contact, I turned and climbed onto his lap. My fingers scratched through his hair and tugged lightly while his hands found their way to the bare skin of my back. We kissed that way for a while, not going any further. I didn't feel comfortable pursuing anything more in his house; not yet at least. It still felt too awkward to be in his and Cathryn's "territory" and it was still quite a mess.
Suddenly a thought occurred to me. "I haven't seen any pictures of Cathryn yet."
Harry looked at me with surprise and then stood up quickly. He went to the bookshelf and grabbed a frame that had somehow turned towards the wall and he brought it over. A younger Harry was standing behind a beautiful blonde woman, leaning over her and kissing the corner of her mouth.
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"She's beautiful, Harry."
"Thank you."
"What about wedding photos?" I asked. "I'm surprised there are none on the walls."
