Page 130 of The Fix-Up

I dragged Oliver with me to work. Gil and I hadn’t discussed what the plan was. Was he leaving today? When? Would we get one more meal together? One more time for Oliver and Mikey to explore the field in the backyard together? One more stolen kiss?

But in the end, I think I already knew what I would find when I got home. Gil wasn’t there. Mikey wasn’t there. Gil’s car wasn’t there. Gil’s guitar and toolbelt and container of oatmeal weren’t there, either. But an envelope with my name was sitting on his bed. The clowns smiled at me sadly as I opened it and two pieces of paper fell out.

The first letter was in Gil’s straight, sure handwriting:

Eleanor—

I know you might think this is the coward’s way out, leaving before saying goodbye. Maybe it is. There’s a lot left unsaid between us, and I think it’s better that way. Saying it would make this harder than it already is.

I don’t know where my life is going right now, and I have to figure it out. There are decisions to make. Big ones. About Mikey, the future. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan and that’s terrifying.

I’ve already called the attorney this morning to let him know how to contact me from now on and that I have no interest in selling Ollie’s property. I guess I’m not quite ready to give up on Ollie and Teddy. That surprises me probably as much as it surprises you, I bet.

I gasped and reread that last part again and again and still once more. He didn’t mean that, did he? I’d already told him I was willing to sell. My chest tightened with something…confusion, longing, love. Maybe all three at once.

Gilbert Dalton, what are you doing? My hands shook as I read the rest of the letter.

But more importantly, I didn’t want to be just another jackass who got what he wanted from you and left.

You deserve so much better. You deserveeverything. You’ll have to settle for a dilapidated old house and a café in need of a makeover, though. And no, I’m not changing my mind so don’t even try it. I’m doing this for you, yes, but I’m doing it for me, too.

I never had the courage to say this out loud to you but

Be happy, you and Oliver both. Know that somewhere not too far away, someone is thinking about you,

Gilbert

P.S. I found this going through Ollie’s papers.

I clutched the paper to my chest, my vision going blurry with tears. This wasn’t one of those delicate, tasteful cries where each tear fell slowly down my cheeks.

No, I was in the midst of a full-on, snotty-nosed, red-faced, soul-deep sobbing session. I smoothed a hand over the letter. My finger traced the letters of his signature.

What was I supposed to do with this? Aside from rereading it over and over until it was full of tearstains, then memorizing it and placing the original in my underwear drawer to keep it safe but close by so I could look at it when I felt sad.

I let out a wet laugh. I finally got a grand gesture. A whole twenty acres’ worth.

With shaky hands, I unfolded the second letter. I recognized this handwriting too. Strangely, Ollie had had lovely, loopy cursive lettering, and I smiled to see it.

Dear Ellie?—

I suppose if you’re reading this, I’ve kicked the bucket. I’m not good with all these feelings and whatnot but this attorney thought it might be a good idea for me to write a letter and let you know what I was thinking with this will. I’m paying him an awful lot for his ideas, so I figured I should get my money’s worth.

I guess I’ll tell you a story:

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a girl, loved her practically my whole life. We had plans but sometimes in life, the more plans we make, the less chance they’ll come true. I suppose that’s what happened with Amelia and me. That, and pure stubbornness.

But I made my choice to live in Two Harts, though I knew I’d never love another like I’d loved Amelia. Years later, Idiscovered I had a daughter who had a son. I hired me a private detective to find them. My daughter, she was real pretty, and her son, Gilbert, he’s a fine, upstanding man.

Unless he’s one of them men who does weird stuff on the internet. I tried to get the detective to check on that but he never did.

I tried to see them once. I was scared out of my mind to knock on their door. Then I saw them, out in the front yard, and they looked so happy, smiling, and carefree. Well, I chickened out. They had a good life all on their own. They didn’t need some old man busting in and making all kind of claims. But I kept track of them. Every year, like clockwork, I got a report from the detective.

I’m not a fanciful man, you know that. But when you and Oliver showed up at the Sit-n-Eat that day, something about you reminded me of my Amelia. You looked terrible, if I’m being honest, tired and stressed. Made me think of Amelia going off into the world all alone.

A funny thing happened, too. It turned out I was wrong. I could love again. Not the kind of love I’d had with Amelia. It was the kind of love that made my heart swell with pride when I watched you start a new life. Like what it felt like to be a father, I imagine.

I’m real proud I got to watch you these years. You made this old man real happy.

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