Grief Meets Love

Silas steepled his hands

and rocked in his dark office chair

as he prayed for distance

between the call and the flight

to attend his estranged father’s funeral.

He gazed out his large tinted window

at the Yakima River rippling over itself

and Greenway with gold and brown

leaves camouflaging the trimmed lawn

three stories below his office.

People jogged and walked their dogs

through the path, sipping coffee,

and riding bikes.

Silas hated that Mark, his father,

left the family to fend for themselves

while he became a successful lawyer.

But they reconnected when Silas finished

high school, and Mark offered to pay for law school,

so he graduated and worked for his father’s firm.

He still felt his father wasn’t proud of him.

A knock on his door startled him.

He twisted.

Hannah cradled a brown box of files.

“Yes?” Silas said.

“You okay, boss?” Hannah arched a brow. “Get the call?”

Silas moved a rag across his forehead. “I feel it coming.” He motioned. “Have you ever had that feeling when you know something is coming, but you don’t want to believe it.”

“I do.” Hannah sighed. “My mom died last year.”

Silas gave her an empathetic expression. “I’m so—”

“Don’t be.” Hannah swallowed hard and batted away his empathy.

“Why didn’t I hear about it?” Silas said.

“Because you canceled all leave to finish the Helen project,” Hannah said. “I couldn’t afford to lose this job.”

Silas reached and scraped his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Hell,” Hannah said. “I’m just thankful for a good-paying job.”

“I was so focused on profit that I forgot about people,” Silas said. “I forgot about everyone besides the bottle and fear.”

“Fear?” Hannah laughed. “You and fear don’t go together.”

“I guess I wanted to prove my father wrong,” Silas said. “Prove that I could run the firm without him.”

Hannah entered his office and sat in the corner chair. She set the boxes beside her feet and crossed her legs. “He’d be proud.”

Silas stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You don’t know my father,” he said, jingling change. He looked at the window to hide his wet eyes. “You know something,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“I just wanted—”

“Hannah!” Silas said, angrier than he’d wanted to. He turned around and motioned. “I didn’t mean—“

“You’re right,” Hannah said, brushing her wrist across her damp eyes. “I know two things that you don’t know.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Silas said, watching her mouth.

Hannah swung her long, dark hair across her green eyes. “Yeah.” She nodded. “After he moved to California, he told me to keep an eye on you.”

“Your stepmom called me,” Hannah said, choking back a lump in her throat. She removed and unfolded a note from her cardigan pocket.

Silas approached her and received the wrinkled note. “It’s an obituary,” he said, looking at Hannah and back at the copied article. “Mark is survived by his wife and a son that he prides as his best accomplishment.”

“He was hard on you because he loved you,” Hannah said.

Silas’s sadness turned into a joy he didn’t know existed. “What was the second thing you had to tell me?”

Hannah’s cheeks reddened. “You sure you want to know?”

Silas shrugged. “Of course.”

“We’ve been working together since we left college seven years ago.” Hannah paused and cleared her throat. “And I’ve come to…”

“To what?” Silas wanted to hear the words spill through her lips.

“I love you,” Hannah said and sighed. “I hope you don’t fire me.”

Silas cupped her cheeks and kissed her because he loved her, too.

“Dad wanted us to be together,” Silas said, moving long strands of her hair behind her ear.

“How did you know?”

“He told me.” Silas smiled and kissed her again.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://medium.com/@drinkcoffeewrite82

Twitter: AC0040