Chapter 22 - LINDA’S LAST VISIT
Linda asked to see the house once before moving south permanently.
I agreed.
Public hours.
No private dinner.
She walked through the old dining room.
Round tables now.
No head chair.
She stared.
“You changed everything.”
“Yes.”
“Frank would hate this.”
“Probably.”
She almost smiled.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
I waited.
“For Christmas.”
“Which part?”
She sighed.
“You still do that.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the floor where Ryan hit me.
“I’m sorry I wanted you gone.”
Better.
“I’m sorry I helped make leaving look voluntary.”
Better.
“I’m sorry I sat in the chair because I wanted to feel like my family had won something.”
There.
No excuse.
I nodded.
“I believe you.”
“Forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
She accepted.
Before leaving, she touched one of the ordinary dining chairs.
“This one yours?”
“No.”
“Good.”
We both laughed.
That was our last meeting.
She died four years later.
Stroke.
I attended no funeral.
May you like
Sent flowers.
Enough.
