Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

“He was a good man. When he died, my mother moved in with me and my son. I cared for her until she died. Gabriel hired me a few months after that.”

“I’m sorry you lost your mother. I’m very grateful for how you’ve looked after my son and daughter, and now my granddaughter.”

Rebecca smiled. “I’m the kind of person who needs to look after someone else. My son took a job in Colorado and moved away. My daughter lives in Sacramento. It made sense to rent out my house and move in with Gabriel and Julia. But he’s on the lookout for an apartment for me in Cambridge. Eventually, they will need their own space.”

Richard nodded thoughtfully.

She turned her body toward him. “And you’re a professor?”

“That’s right. I taught biology at Susquehanna University, but I retired when my wife died.”

“I’m sorry.” Rebecca made eye contact with him.

“Thank you.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I made rather a mess of things. I retired from Susquehanna and took a research position in Philadelphia, so I could be closer to my daughter and my son, Scott. But I never saw them. I found I missed the house I shared with my wife. So I resigned my post and moved back. Now I’m teaching one course a semester at Susquehanna as a professor emeritus.”

“I can understand you wanting to stay in the house,” Rebecca commiserated. “I can’t bring myself to sell our home in Norwood, although I know I’ll have to sell it eventually.”

Richard’s handsome face looked weary. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Not at all.”

“Does it get better?” Richard’s gray eyes were earnest.

Rebecca looked up at one of the many trees that lined Foster Street. “I know what you want to hear, because it’s what I wanted to hear when I lost my husband. You want to hear that time heals and grief disappears.

“I’ll be honest with you—grief doesn’t go away. You will always miss that person, because you loved her and you miss her company. My husband has been gone for twenty years and I still miss him every day. And every night.” She smiled ruefully. “But the pain lessens over time. I’m able to talk about him and look at photos and remember the good times. But it was a process.”

Richard looked stricken. “I had hoped you’d tell me it would get better.”

She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Some things get better. But for me, the grief is still there.

“I’ve found a second family with your children. I get to borrow books from Gabriel’s library and make my favorite family recipes for him and Julia. Now I get to help with the baby and make sure Julia takes care of herself. It feels good to be needed. I have a role. I have a purpose.”

Richard stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yes, it’s good to be needed.”

“Your children need you. They need you in some way to be both parents for them, and that’s difficult.”

“Yes.” Richard seemed to be processing her assessment.

“Life won’t be the same, but it can still be a good life. Spending time with family and friends is important.”

“I agree.”

The pair continued walking in silence.

At length, Richard spoke. “Thank you, Rebecca.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’m happy to talk to you whenever. I’m only a phone call away.”

“I’d like that. I’m beginning to realize I spend too much time alone.”

“There were days, even weeks, when I didn’t leave my house after my husband died. I just didn’t want to go anywhere.”

Richard bobbed his head.

Rebecca paused, making eye contact once again. “Could I give you a piece of unsolicited advice, widow to widower?”

Richard chuckled. “Go ahead.”