Page 104 of An Unfinished Story
“For starters.” Whitaker pulled her close and spoke into her ear. “No more words this morning. I’ve said all I can say.” He kissed her cheek.
“You have until the printer has printed the last page.”
“That doesn’t give me much time. I should have written a second epilogue. Maybe an afterword too.”
“Unless you’ve been holding back, I think you’ll be fine.”
“How dare you.”
With a cup of Earl Grey tea steaming beside her and Willy nestled up to her leg, Claire was sitting on one end of the houndstooth sofa holding the stack of white paper making up the last section ofSaving Orlando. Whitaker was pretending to readA Gentleman in Moscowin the chair next to the sofa.
“I can’t read it with you watching me,” Claire said, flipping to the next page.
“I’m not watching you. I’m reading.”
“I suppose a man of many languages such as yourself can read upside down if it suits him?”
He turned the book around to see the cover. “Oh, how about that?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “I know you were waiting on me to notice.”
A sly grin. “Nothing gets by you, does it?” He added, “Seriously, I can’tnotwatch you.”
“It’s good,” she said. “Trust me. It’s the best book I’ve ever read. Stop worrying.”
Whitaker turned the right side of his mouth up into a smile. “Easy for you to say.”
The story moved so quickly and beautifully that she was swept away again and didn’t think at all about the authors. What Whitaker had done for the story was bring Kevin to life. He’d given Kevin the tools he needed to break free, the arc he needed.
Of course, Whitaker had brought a woman into the story, and Claire didn’t have to make too many assumptions to read between the lines.
In his writing, David had never mentioned a woman in Kevin’s life. Only that he was lonely. Making a large creative decision, Whitaker had introduced Orlando’s new case manager, Amy. His last one had left her position, leaving Orlando alone again. Amy quickly stepped in with a full heart, ready to support his growth.
Only as Claire reached the last few paragraphs did she pause to take in the significance of the work David and Whitaker had written—a story of survival, second chances, redemption, and love. A tale with such power that she knew it would be enjoyed long after they were gone.
Claire read out loud the final page of the epilogue ofSaving Orlando, savoring each thought and image.
“I spent my thirties wondering if I was worth loving. Until Amy came into my life. She lifted me up and resuscitated my senses, reminding me of what matters—the cosmic sense of what matters. It’s love, of course, and after knowing her only a few minutes, I loved her. She was the one with the courage to walk blindly into the darkness to find Orlando and, like she’d done for me, she brought him back. She was our lighthouse casting hope out into the dreary fog of our lives.
“I suppose I have Orlando to thank for all of it. Only in attempting to save him did I find love, and I will be forever grateful. Before I fell in love with Amy, I fell in love with him. A different kind of love, but just as powerful.
“It was, by the way, never me who was saving Orlando. You probably knew that. How I’d ever been so confused is still a mystery to me. No, I was never saving Orlando. But to name the bookSaving Kevinwould have given away the ending.
“If you drive south on MLK and work your way toward the Gulf, you’ll find the tiny chapel where I married Amy three months later. Though she could have done much better, something drew her to me. In appreciation to a world that would allow a wreck like me to marry such a fine woman, I will spend the rest of my life trying to be a better man and husband and ... father.
“A week after marrying Amy, we took Orlando to New York to see a game at Yankee Stadium. During the seventh-inning stretch, we asked Orlando to be our son.”
Claire sniffled and removed her glasses. She read the final two words. “The end.”
She set the last page down on the coffee table and turned to Whitaker, wiping her eyes. “Wait a minute. You can’t go south on MLK in Sarasota. Haven’t we already been through this?”
Whitaker threw up his hands. “Oops. I’ll have to fix that.”
She side-eyed him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to tell me something.”
“Isn’t it crystal Claire?”
Claire shook her head at the man who’d finished her late husband’s novel. She thought about her journey and the pain of losing a love and how empty she’d once felt inside. And then she saw her possible future, one rich with Oliver and Whitaker, and she knew that no matter how broken the road, there was joy waiting for her at the end.
