Page 5 of When Love Is Lost and Found

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"Is this handsome young man yours?" I hear the lady next to me ask.

I start laughing. "No," I say, "This is Noah. I'm his nanny."

"Hi," she says, "It's nice to meet you both. I'm Lorenza, but my friends and family call me Loren."

"It's nice to meet you," I say, shaking her hand. "My name is Sharon."

"Like the scripture in the Bible," she says.

"Pardon me?"

"Song of Solomon 2:1," she says. "I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys."

"That's beautiful," I say.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman."

"Thank you," I say, feeling myself blush.

"Where are you headed?" she asks.

"Garrison, New York. What about you?"

"Well, isn't that a coinkydink? That's where I'm from."

"Really?!" I ask.

"I've been here visiting my son and his family. It's been six weeks, and I'm terribly homesick. I can't wait to get back."

"Do you have more family in Garrison?" I ask.

"No, it's just me, my cat, and a young man who's renting my guesthouse. My husband passed away six years ago, and our son is our only child, so it's just me now."

"I'm sorry to hear about your husband," I say, wanting to bare my soul to this woman and tell her all about Jimmy, but I hold back. "Do you get lonely living by yourself?"

"I do sometimes," she says, "but better alone than in bad company."

I laugh, thinking about my dad because that was one of his favorite sayings.

"I like you, Miss Loren."

"I like you too, Miss Sharon."

Chapter 2

Jon

With two fractured ribs and my arm in a sling, I was there to pay my respects, but I couldn't do it.

I felt like a coward hiding behind a tree to prevent being seen. I kept reminding myself that no one knew who I was, but it still didn't give me the courage to join the people at the graveside service.

I got as close as possible, pretending to visit a grave nearby. I waited, laid the flowers I had brought on top of the headstone, and quietly whispered an apology for my intrusion.

I watched as a young woman placed her hand on the casket and openly wept. I knew it was Sharon because I had seen her picture before. She was tall and slender. Her fair skin contrasted with her long black curls. I wanted to introduce myself and let her know how sorry I was for her loss, but what could I have possibly said, "Hi, Sharon, I'm Jon, and I'm the reason your fiancé is dead?"

So I kept my distance, and when she left, I approached the cemetery workers and asked if I could have just a few more minutes. They nodded and stepped aside.

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