Page 10 of Inside Out
“Excuse me,” said a gruff voice. “Dr. Bradley, is it?”
I lifted my head and looked into the solemn eyes of the man named Howie I’d seen at Books and Brew with Irv.
“Yes,” I replied. “Good evening. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your last name this morning.”
He cringed a bit, and his face flushed like he was embarrassed. “I’m Howie Wilson.”
I extended a hand to him which he accepted. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wilson.” His generation preferred a formal address until permission was granted to use their first name.
“Call me Howie,” he said with a crooked smile. “May I join you?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “Dolly and I always enjoy good company.” Howie snorted like he knew people wouldn’t classify him as such. I wanted to change that because the sadness in his eyes reminded me of a time in my life that still hurt to remember. “Call me Rome.”
“Is your first name really Romeo?” he asked, a crooked smile lifting the corner of his lips.
“Yes,” I sighed. “My mother is a big fan of classic literature. Luckily for my sister, my dad put his foot down after I was born, and they stuck with a more traditional name for her. Of course, I told her she was named after Ashley Wilkes fromGone with the Wind, whom she couldn’t stand.” That earned a chuckle from Howie.
“I wanted to apologize for my surly attitude when we met earlier. My Miriam would be so upset with me right now. She wouldn’t want me to walk through life like a zombie snapping and snarling at everyone. She would want me to look for the beautiful things around me and remember all the good times we had. Some days it just seems like a bigger task than I can pull off.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Howie. Was today a particularly bad day?” I asked softly.
“It would’ve been her seventieth birthday. Instead of remembering all the birthdays we spent together, I’m thinking of all the places I never took her. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to take my wife to Paris and kiss her at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Why am I stuck in this quagmire of what should’ve been instead of what was? I tell you, Rome, my Miriam was the most beautiful soul you’d ever meet.”
Bark! Bark!
Howie snickered then looked under the table at Dolly. “Besides you, little lady.” I was pleased to see a real smile on Howie’s face and shocked at how it transformed his looks. “I can’t believe I’ve sat down at your table and just started spilling my guts. You’re a virtual stranger, not a psychiatrist.”
“I’m not that kind of doctor,” I assured him. “However, I am a person who knows exactly what you’re going through. Maybe something inside you recognized that about me.”
“Maybe,” he said gruffly. “You’ve lost someone special too? A spouse?” It was nice he didn’t automatically assume it was a woman, but I was sure he’d heard about my sexuality through the grapevine. I didn’t exactly blurt my orientation through a bullhorn, but I was very open with the board when they interviewed me. If they didn’t think I would be a good fit, then I didn’t want the job. I felt it was better to get it out there in the open than wait for it to become part of the conversation.
“A partner,” I corrected. “Peter passed away before it was legal for us to marry, but he was my husband in every way that counted.”
“I’m sorry for your loss too, Rome. How long ago did Peter pass?”
“Seven years,” I said. “How long has it been for you?”
“Almost two years, but it feels like it happened yesterday.”
“It does for a long time, but one day, you wake up and you realize a lot of time has passed, and the memories don’t hurt quite as bad as they did the day before.”
“I can’t imagine ever feeling that way,” Howie said, eyes watering as if that would be worse than the misery of missing her. “I don’t want to forget the sound of her voice.”
“I wouldn’t want you to either, Howie.”
“She had the best laugh,” he said, a single tear rolling down his face. “And her smile was so bright it could warm you on the coldest days.”
“If you can, wrap the memory of her smile and laughter around you like a warm blanket. It’s possible to move forward while remembering; they’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Is that what you did when it got hard?”
“Yes, and I adopted Dolly. I focused on caring for her instead of fostering my grief. Day by day and little by little, I started to heal. Birthdays and holidays are still hard, but I do things to honor Peter’s memory. I planted his favorite flowers at my new home so I have a part of him with me. I’ll fix his favorite meal on his birthday. I donate to his favorite charities at Christmastime. I do all the things he’d do if he were still around. Some people see that as clinging to the past, but I don’t see it that way.”
“You’re still young. Do you hope to fall in love again someday?” he asked.
I pictured Julius Shepherd and recalled the way he made the blood rush through my veins from just a shy smile. “I do. I have a lot of life yet to live and many laughs to share. I’d rather not experience them alone.”
“Does that mean you’ve already—”