The yellow high Vis jacket

He grabbed his yellow high Vis jacket off the hook on the back of the laundry door. He put it over his shoulders as he had done so many times before. He gingerly zipped it up, his fingers struggling with the required dexterity. It was raining cats and dogs outside, it had to be close to zero degrees, and he was surprised it wasn’t snowing. He let out a big sigh but for him he had no other choice and he had no time to think. He had to hurry.

As he walked down the hallway towards the front door Mary cut him off.

"You can't go out there, you're not well" she pleaded and grabbed his hands, he had a weakness for her deep emerald eyes so he tried his best to avoid looking directly into them.

He briefly squeezed her hands back.

"I have to Mares. I’m the only one" he said in an almost whisper. Gently moving her slim frame to the side as he walked towards the front door.

“But Pete, it’s freezing. You’ll get worse. It doesn’t need to be you, help is on the way” she called.

“Mary, its bad” he said as he shook his head. “The help won’t be able to get through with all the traffic without me” he said trailing off.

Mary was right of course, he would never admit it to her but she was almost always right. He wasn’t well at all and hadn’t been for a while now. His chest felt tight, he couldn't draw in a full breath without coughing, every joint in his body ached and his heart was beating rapidly.

But he knew he had to go. He would rather go and suffer the consequences whatever that might be than live with the guilt. He had more than his fair share of memory’s that kept him company in the early hours of the morning. Those times when it felt as though the whole world was at peace except him and his tormenting thoughts for company.

He made it to the end of the driveway and impressed himself by only needing to grab his garden wall on two occasions. It was slippery from the sleet but his boots were sturdy.

The rain continued to bucket down but that didn’t stop him from doing his job. A job he knew he was extraordinarily good at. He never knew how he did it exactly, his mind just worked on impulse. He instinctively knew where cars should go to free up space.

When the flashing red and blue lights came closer they had a clear path to the victims of the crash. As the police arrived they patted him on the back with big thanks. He smiled on the inside, without knowing the outcome of the crash he didn’t feel right smiling on the outside. It didn’t look good, two cars, one flipped on its side and the other on its roof both had extensive damage.

He stayed until the crash was cleared and the road was safe. He spoke to the officers before they left, apparently there was two victims in critical condition. He wished them the best and said a little prayer for their recovery. It was an exhausting night and he struggled to make it up the driveway afterwards. In fact he had to stop and lean against the wall a few times.

Mary was of course at the front door ready to greet him with warm towels and a hot drink. He would be forever grateful for her. She had always been there for him, through thick and thin, always had his back. He smiled at her, he allowed himself to look into her beautiful eyes and caressed her cheek, and she smiled back at him. He bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek. And then something compelled him to kiss her on the lips not once but twice, slowly and tenderly.

“Pete” she playfully admonished him with a broad smile.

He smiled back at her and then he turned to find a seat before he collapsed from exhaustion. As he did he had a realisation that somewhere along the way loving moments between him and Mary had stopped and he suddenly regretted it. He made a mental note to change that. That night as they climbed the stairs to their bedroom they did so holding hands.

He only had brief flashes of memories of the following days. He can remember being admitted to the intensive care unit, Mary sitting by his side, he didn’t think that she left. Their daughters were there and his son, he was most glad about his son being there. He had hoped all was forgiven without the words. He felt loved, content and at peace. And then nothing. There was just no more.

Mary returned home, it felt strange to be in their house, although it wasn’t "theirs" anymore just hers. She didn’t know what she was going to do with the house, it was large, four bedrooms all just for her now. Her daughters wanted her to sell and buy something smaller and closer to them. Maybe she should she thought briefly. She stood in the middle of the living room and looked around the house, it felt hollow, like it was missing something. It was of course she thought. Tears streamed down her face with no end in sight. She walked over and sat in Pete’s chair and picked up the newspaper. It seemed so natural for her to observe him doing this, it felt foreign for her.

She slowly moved her hand across the headline and as she did a large tear soaked smile spread across her face.

"95 year old hero dies after saving lives directing traffic following horrific accident". She was so proud of him. She always had been, he always put others first before himself. His death had come as a shock but if she thought about it, it’s the way he would have wanted to go, helping others.

Mary was never one for sitting for long or to wallow in self-pity. She got up and walked towards the door and hung his yellow high Vis jacket on the hook.