Page 2 of Perfect Pact

I ignore the title, end the call, and slide the phone into my back pocket.

“You didn’t have to get off on my account.” Mr. Jacobs scoots his walker across the wooden floor, shuffling his feet behind it.

“I know, but I wanted to.” I reach inside the cabinet, pull out a couple glasses, and set them on the counter. “Plus, it’s been a while. Would you like to keep me company?”

“Only if you made it extra sweet.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“You know it.” I walk over to the fridge, pull out a pitcher of his almost-too-sweet tea, and hold it up. “And I’ll pour you the first glass.”

“That’s my girl.” Mr. Jacobs smiles. “Can you be a sweetheart and bring that out?” He shuffles his way to the french doors and tries to open them, but his body is still so weak from the meds.

“Let me help you.” I hurry over to him. Holding both glasses in one hand, I turn the knob with the other.

“I almost had that.” Mr. Jacobs winks as I pull the door open wide. He maneuvers his way through then collapses into the chair next to the porch swing.

“Not feeling the swing tonight?”

Mr. Jacobs holds out his hand, not saying a word as I place the tea in it. He takes a sip and holds the glass against his chest as his eyes focus in front of him.

“Mr. Jacobs.” I kneel beside him, placing my hand on the back of his chair to steady myself. “Are you okay?”

“I would be better if you finally call me by my name.” Mr. Jacobs glances at me out the corner of his eye.

I fight back a smile. “I’ve known you as Mr. Jacobs my whole life. Calling you by your first name seems disrespectful.”

“Grumpy Old Man Jacobs,” he corrects, reminding me of the nickname the town gave him after his wife died and son left.

I was too young to remember Buck Jacobs, but since working for him, grumpy old man doesn’t fit either. He’s not overly affectionate, but he has his reasons. And since I started working for him three years ago I went from cleaning his house to being his caregiver when his health started to rapidly decline.

Last year, during a sunset not quite as beautiful as this, he confessed that cancer is eating away at his body and that he didn’t know how much longer he had.

The news broke me. Mr. Jacobs was more than my employer or a friend. He became family. I loved him more than I have loved any adult who attempted to love me.

“Pffft. I happen to think you’re a great guy.” I stand, wiping my hands on my jeans before taking a seat on the swing next to my favorite guy.

“You have to say that.” Mr. Jacobs takes another sip of his tea and grins.

“How many times do I have to tell you—?”

“I’m only kiddin’, kiddo.” Mr. Jacobs flashes me his gummy smile one more time before taking another sip and handing me his glass. “I’m sure going to miss this.”

“What’s that?”

He points to the skyline over the old barn I love so much.

“Oh, wow…” I take in the breathtaking view of the graffiti filled sky painted in various shades of purple, gold, and pink.

“I know,” he whispers.

“I’ve never seen something so beautiful.”

“The last time I saw a sky like this was when Molly left me.” Mr. Jacobs’ eyes water, but a tear never falls. He simply lifts his chin, flips over his hand, and continues to sit there.

“And she’s here right now. With us.” I reach between the chains securing the swing to the porch and place my hand in his.

He doesn’t look over at me. He doesn’t speak. He just squeezes my hand while we sit here a few moments longer, watching more than a lifetime of memories disappear behind the old barn.

“Crap.” An alarm going off in the kitchen jolts me awake.

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