The Unknown

Janice sighed, contemplating the impending task of combing through Frederik's effects; however, this had to be the time. Janice walked resolutely to the storage side of her basement, stopping only once her eyes gazed on the three big boxes. She did not have a complete understanding of the cocktail of emotions cycling through her system. After five years, Janice could not recollect what items lay folded, once cherished within their cardboard repository. 

Douglas slipped behind the wheel of his bronco, snapping on his safety belt before backing up with skill out onto the rural road. Opening the windows, Douglas' welcomed in the autumn afternoon whispering with wisps of summer's lost warmth. His lips curved upward, observing the 'Sold" sign on Janice's front lawn. 

Parking in Janice's drive, Douglas let himself into her soon-to-be former home, walking down the central hall then stepping with care down the steep steps. Janice sat on a chair surrounded by three cartons.

"How's it going, my love?"

Janice paused before answering, blinking to swish away tears of regret and loss. 

"Almost done. I'm going to donate Frederick's clothing to the Sally Ann, and, "she swallowed, "I need to decide about the remaining items."

"Like what?"

"His wedding ring, the watch given to him by his father when he graduated from medical school, his diaries, those kinds of things."

"Well, if you're keeping his ring, watch and diaries, how about I store them in a box which I'll take to our house."

"That'd be great. It's right here, to my left."

Janice resumed her sorting of Frederick's clothes into tidy folded piles, which she then placed with reverence into one of two boxes. Douglas eyed her from the base of the stairs, one box in his arms. Once at his vehicle, he filtered out the diaries, stuffing them in his attache case. 

Retracing his steps to the basement, he watched Janice close up the second box. 

"All done." She wiped her brow, a forced smile on her face. "Let's head off and drop this off at the Salvation Army. They accept donations until four today."

Douglas winked, picking up one box while Janice lifted the other. With the carton stowed in the vehicle, Janice returned to the front door to lock up her soon-to-be former house where she and Frederick had lived, loved and lost. 

Janice held two feelings in equanimity -- rapture and remorse. She felt gratitude close in her heart, fully appreciating that finding love again was a supreme gift. Her body pulsed with longing for Frederick, feeling him slip further away each day. 

Douglas maneuvered in skill through the busyness of town traffic, sliding into an empty spot at the front of the donation store. 

"My love, I'll be back in a blink of an eye," Learning over, his warm lips tickled Janice's neck. 

Tomorrow Janice would wed Douglas. Tomorrow, they would share their love with a small gathering of family and friends. Tomorrow, a page of their new life's chapter would be written. Tomorrow they would be a WE.

"My love, we're home sleepy-head." 

"I swear there's nothing more relaxing than a drive in the country."

"Particularly when your eyes are closed and you snore softly!"

Arm-in-arm, Janice and Douglas walked down their crushed rock pathway, opening their pewter grey door,. 

"Tomorrow, I'll have to carry you across the threshold."

"Oh, you fool, not the second time around!"

"But, my love, it's my first time. Here, stop, let me practice,"

Douglas bent to hoist Janice into the sling of his arms, stepping with exaggerated effort into their hallways.

"I'm NOT that heavy!"

"My love, I'm teasing. I'm going to get us both a drink, I'll meet you in our three-season room."

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you, dear."

"Oops, I'll be back in a minute, I forgot to bring in the box from the back."

"Douglas, don't worry about it right now. It can wait."

"No, no, I'll get it then make us a drink."

Quick steps out the door to the bronco, Douglas threw the strap of his attache case over his shoulder then lifted the box in his arms. 

"I'm going to put the box in our storage room."

"Perfect."

Douglas shoved the box into the emptiness on a shelving unit before carrying his attache case to his home office. Patting the case, Douglas intended to peruse Frederick's journal scouting out any reference to the euthanasia. Janice did not need to know this ever.

Sipping gin and tonic while snacking on a charcuterie platter ably thrown together by Douglas, this last evening as singles passed pleasantly. 

After a late morning lay-in, Douglas and Janice rose then enjoyed a sensual shower together. Next, they breakfasted in their sunroom, before retracing their steps to separate bedrooms to prepare for their ceremony. 

Douglas popped champagne to toast their pending nuptials, awaiting Janice's reveal. Love flowed from his eyes as he surveyed her head to toe. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Janice twirled, the skirt of her gown spreading around like a halo. 

"Will this do?"

"My love, you look divine. Come, let's make a toast to us."

"To us, to a future filled with fun, with friendship, with finesse, with frantic passion."

Clink.

"Ooh, this is the good stuff. Let's recork so we can enjoy it later. I was thinking, while I got ready. Frederick was a wonderful amateur poet. I'm going to look through his journal for one of his poems to read at our ceremony."

Douglas smiled with his lips alone. 

"My love, we're rather tight for time." Douglas held out his wrist, pointing with emphasis at the time.

"My darling, the ceremony WILL wait for the bride, ME. It'll take but a few minutes for me to locate the poem I'm thinking of. If memory serves, it was in Frederick's journal from," her voice cracked, "the year he died."

"You sit, Sip the bubbly. I am at your beck and call. I'll get this journal."

Stepping out of the room, Douglas tip-toed left to his office, snapping open his attache case, eyeballing the dates on the journals. Pulling out the correct date his fingers flicked with urgency through the pages, until, almost midway through, the poem he thought Janice wished, presented itself.

"Here you go, my love, is this the poem you were thinking of?"

TAKEN (Nonet) by Frederick ©

Gazing upon a wedding portrait

Groom a prop for bride veiled in white

Instead — celebrate your way

Two soul-mates to unite

Wearing what makes you wow

Any colours

Just your style

It's your

Choice.

"Yes, thanks so much. I feel like this is Frederick's blessing."

"Then, my love, let's go and get hitched."