Bob Green hired a van the day Emma Hope was discharged from the hospital, and with the help of the neighbour, Mr. Thompson, they ushered her into their cosy cottage. Everything will be fine, he soothed, just keep breathing. Even if you just sit and chat with me, keep on living. Ill sort the rest out. Dont go anywhere, my dear pigeonheart!
Emma, at thirtyfive, thought shed never will taste true marital bliss, but fate had other plans. They met when both were nearing forty. Bob had been a widower for three years; Emma had never married, though shed already brought a son into the world. As the locals say, she gave birth to a child of her own. In her youth, shed romanced the handsome, darkhaired Oliver Black, who swore hed marry her and bewitched the young Emma. She fell for his promises, which turned out to be as empty as a hollow log. It later emerged the cityslicker was already hitched.
Olivers lawful wife even showed up at Emmas doorstep, begging her not to tear another family apart. Naïve Emma gave in, yet she decided to keep the baby.
Thus Emma gave birth to Evan. He became her sole source of comfort and pride. Evan grew up wellmannered and bright, eventually enrolling at the University of Economics in London. Bob visited Emma several times, hinting at a future together, but the lady wavered, even though she liked him. One evening, embarrassed by her own son, she finally allowed herself to imagine happiness. Evan, sensing his mothers longing, said one night, M, Im not opposed to you moving in with Uncle Bob. Hes a reliable chap, just dont let him hurt you. My main wish is for you to be happy. Bobs own son nodded in agreement.
And so they settled into a modest life. They signed the papers, held a small gathering, and Emma took a job at the village library while Bob worked as a farm manager. They tackled chores side by sideherding the sheep, tending the garden, milking cows, and even baking bread together. They loved and respected each other, though they lamented that the Good Lord didnt bless them with more children.
Both sons married, and grandchildren arrived in the usual steady stream. For every holiday they whipped up treats for the youngsters: fresh eggs, milk, clotted cream, pork, and chicken. Their little cottage often overflowed with guests. In those moments Bob and Emma would sit at the table, grateful to have someone to clink glasses with.
At night, when the elderly pair finally turned in, each would quietly think, Id rather be the first to shuffle off this mortal coil and never feel lonely again.
Time did its thing, and eventually trouble knocked. One morning Emma felt dizzy just as she began stirring alàbrotherly borscht on the stove. The senior lady collapsed. Bob, with the help of the neighbours, called an ambulance. Doctors diagnosed a stroke; all functions remained intact except oneEmma could no longer walk. Evan and his wife drove over, handed over some cash for medication, and then left.
Bob hired a van and, with the neighbour, carried Emma back from the hospital to their cottage.
Everything will be fine, he repeated, just keep breathing. Even if you just sit and chat with me, keep on living. Ill sort the rest out. Dont go anywhere, my dear pigeonheart!
Bob tended to Emma with devotion. Within a month she was settled in a comfy armchair, helping him in the kitchen. They continued making a meal of potatoes, carrots, and beans, even kneading dough together. In the evenings they debated how to get through the coming winterBob confessed he was too feeble to chop firewood.
Perhaps the kids could take us in for the winter, and we could enjoy spring and summer on our own terms, he mused.
The weekend Evan and his wife Olivia arrived. Surveying the room, Olivia declared, Looks like well have to splitup the lovebirds. Well take Mom next week, Ill sort a room for her, and well be back.
Bob whispered, And what about me? We never broke apart.
Olivia replied, That was when you both had the energy to manage the house yourself. Times have changed. Let the son take you both in; nobody else will.
Evan and Olivia left, and Bob and Emma sighed bitterly, pondering the future. Each drifted to sleep wishing they wouldnt wake to see it all again.
The following weekend both sons arrived to help pack. Bob sat by Emmas bed, gazing at her, recalling their youthful days, tears streaming. He pressed his forehead to her hand and whispered, Forgive me, Emma, for everything that went wrong. Perhaps we slipped up raising the kids. Theyre treating us like unwanted kittens. Forgive me. I love you.
Emma tried to stroke his cheek, but her strength had faded. Bob wiped his tears with his sleeve, then got into the van, refusing to dry them any longer.
Soon after, the son, his wife, and the neighbour bundled Emma into a blanket and, in a comical twist, carried her out of the cottages front door, feet first. The ailing woman thought it oddly symbolic. She didnt resist; she passed away before Bob reached the gate, and she seemed relieved not to endure the evening.
A week later, on a crisp autumn day, their wish was finally granted on All Saints Day. Emma and Bob met again in the other world, hand in hand, ready for the next great adventure.
