Going through life together

I stand here in the columns of the library—the one I’ve ran like a well-oiled machine for the last sixty-one years. Marrying Fred at the ripe age of seventeen I thought I’d start pumping out babies and run the farm while he went off to work like all my older friends were doing. Our marriage was arranged, it was not one of love but of convenience. That was life in the nineteen-thirties. We had the one expected child our families demanded at the age of twenty-four, a daughter named Liz, and remained in our marriage so not to shame them. Love never came for us, but a close friendship grew in time. One that I miss to this very day.

“There you are, Rose. Did you find it yet?” Gilly, my ex-best friend asks.

“Not yet,” I respond. You’d think after the seventy-odd years I’ve known her, I’d be done cleaning up her messes. But here I stand searching the isles that she claims to have misplaced her clutch in. Inside the bag is her journal, the same one that she’s written stories of our adventures through the years. If it were to be found by others and word got out it could tarnish our family names. When you’re a Westchester or a Winefried by birth tarnishing said name comes at a price. “I don’t even know why I help you anymore.”

“Just help me find it, will you. You don’t want your business known as much as I don’t.”

Gilly and I had a falling out last year around the time my Fred passed away from a long battle with lung cancer. His one-pack-a-day habit didn’t help him stick around for long. I don’t know if it was me spending more time with Fred or what, but she quit coming around and started getting short with me.

Gilly lost Joey, her husband, in the war sixty years back and never re-married. Their marriage was one of love. She was devastated when the knock on her door came. Gilly stayed on the farm next door to us and raised their little boy, Charles. Fred and I jumped in where she allowed us to, but Gilly’s pride would only let us help so much.

“Here,” I say. As I turn the corner, I see her maroon-colored clutch that’s seen better days sitting on the top shelf alongside the books. “How about we get out of here now. I’d like to go home to Shelby. It’s freezing outside.”

January brings in the cold and lots of snow to these parts of Montana. My cat Shelby is an old girl. Our daughter Liz brought her home on a visit one summer nearly ten years ago. It was love at first sight for me. She’s all I have left. Fred’s gone, Gilly avoids me at best and Liz moved off to Oregon for none other than Charles, Gilly’s son, and started a family of their own thirty-six years ago. Visiting is done occasionally. They’re good together and I’m happy they have one another. Their oldest granddaughter, my great-granddaughter, who’s now thirteen, comes to stay with me during summer breaks but otherwise, it’s me and my cat. I like it that way, though. I’ve always been more of a loner.

“Fine, let’s go. I don’t want to be stuck here with you anyways.”

Gilly walks to the front counter setting down her bag, puts on her coat, and bundles up. She turns to leave, forgetting her handbag once more. “Gil,” I holler. “You’re forgetting something.”

She turns back around slowly, age is catching up to her something fierce nowadays. It’s hard to see someone you once considered family wither away. Gilly grabs her clutch, turns, and walks out the door, without so much as a thank you.

“Figures.” I walk back to the break room, grab my things, bundle up, and head toward the front. After I shut everything off, I leave the nice warm building and step into the cold. I’m thankful that the kids installed this remote start function on my car for Mother’s Day. On frigid days like today when it’s twenty-four degrees with snow blowing across the road, I’m glad I don’t have to sit in an ice-cold car while it warms up. My old bones can’t take it anymore.

Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into my driveway. I turn and look next door to make sure Gilly made it home. She did. Even though we don’t speak much anymore, I wouldn’t wish her harm. I love the old bat, even if I’m still mad at her. I pull my hood up and tuck in before stepping out into the elements. By the time I make it inside, I’m a shivering mess.

I hang my coat and try to turn on the lights. When it doesn’t come on, I move to the lamp. No such luck. Shelby, my cat, hops up on the side table near me nearly scaring me silly in the dim light. “Hey there sweet girl,” I say. I rub her thick black and silver fur, enjoying it as my fingers sink in. She has the rarest eyes, one bright blue, the other a dark green. In this light I can barely tell. It’s a pity really. “Oh, poor baby you’re freezing.” I pull back my hand and blow warmth into it.

Moving across the room, I grab a couple pieces of wood and begin to build a fire as Shelby rubs along my feet. “Don’t you worry sweet girl. As soon as I get this fire going, I’m all yours. You’ll get tons on lovin’ soon.” I get the wood stacked in place and put in my kindling brick. I grab a match ready to light it when a knock sounds at my front door.

It’s too cold not to get it going. I light the match and set it in place then use the hearth to help me stand.

I walk to the door, opening it, I find a shivering Gilly bundled up in her outerwear and a down comforter. “Come in,” I say, pulling her inside. “What are you doing out in this mess?”

“The power is out, and I couldn’t get anyone to come clean out my chimney, so I have no source of heat. Can I warm up here? I won’t stay long,” she says through chattering teeth.

“Gilly have a seat. You can stay the night. I don’t mind, I’d rather you here than knowing you were out there freezing.” My little two-bedroom modest home is plenty big enough for the two of us and small enough that the fireplace keeps it nice and toasty once it’s going.

I move to sit in front of the fire to get it roaring to life while Gilly cautiously sits on the couch across the way. Shelby climbs in my lap, gaining my attention once again. I absent mindedly scratch behind her ear as I stare into the growing flames. Once it’s going, I stand and move to the kitchen to grab a campfire kettle and fill it with water. I lower it to the grate over the fire and wait for it to warm.

I sit on the couch opposite Gilly and turn to look at her.

“I’m sorry.” She looks over to the fire that’s now lighting the room. “I never meant for my feelings to get in the way of our friendship. I should have been there for you.”

I stand and grab the kettle from the fire, making us some cocoa. We’ve gone through our whole life together; how can I not want to reconcile with her. At our age, we’re lucky to wake up the next morning. There have been so many funerals among those I consider friends. Walking back to the couch, I hand her a cup as I sit back down.

“You should have. But I accept your apology. Gilly, I know you’ve been hurting. Liz told me that your Great Aunt left everything, land included to Charles when she passed. Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I didn’t want to hear the pity in your voice. You had just lost Fred, it should have been me taking care of you, but I know somehow you would have been taking care of me instead.”

She’s right. When it comes to Gilly and me, I’m the one who acts while she takes time to process. That’s part of the reason I was left penniless until Fred left me a nice size policy last year. My parents—God rest their souls—didn’t like the fact that they couldn’t control their only daughter once I left their home. I left town when I wanted to let my hair down, well all but that one time.

“Do you remember when Fred and Joey were stationed in Korea? You, and I got it in our minds to do one of those naughty pictures for them in our bloomers?” I laugh at the thought.

“I do,” Gilly giggles. “But if I remember right, you’re the one who talked me into it after seeing it in that magazine. What made you think of that?”

“I was just thinking about how I was cut off for not fitting the mold my parents wanted me in. I’ll never forget their faces when they found us behind the barn in our skivvies.” That was a moment I’ll never forget. I have never been so scared in my life.

“I could have sworn that your dad was going to kill the photographer.”

I can laugh about it now but back then things got tense.

Dad ran the poor man out of town. I’m not surprised though; Edward Westchester the third wouldn’t dare get his hands dirty so he did the next best thing. He destroyed the man’s business, making him leave Timber Creek for good.

Shelby hops up on the couch between us. She rolls over onto her back, exposing her warm belly for pets. I give her the attention she demands and feel her begin to purr.

“To be young again.” She takes my hand in hers. “No matter all we went through, I’m glad I had you.”

“Same to you, Gil. There’s no better person to walk through this life with than your best friend.” I lightly squeeze her hand. “I’m glad you came over tonight.”

“Me too.” She leans her head back on the couch and closes her eyes.

I do the same.

We’ve been through a lot together. Sometimes a life partner isn’t what you expect it to be. In my case, my life partner and best friend is sitting by my side. I couldn’t imagine going through life without her. Sure, I had Fred, but Gilly is where I found love. It would have been one lonely life without her. No matter what tomorrow brings, I’m glad we’ll always have each other.