Page 222 of Just One More Thing
Fifty years of friendship. Two widowers who understood that love didn’t end when someone left. It just changed shape. They’d both lost theirs. They’d both kept living. And somewhere in the quiet of that shared grief, they’d decided that if they couldn’t have their own love stories anymore, they’d make damn sure everyone else got theirs.
They sat quietly and watched the crowd.
Walt’s mouth twitched. “Well now,” he said softly.
Willard made a thoughtful sound low in his throat.
Across The Green, one person laughed.
Another looked away a second too late.
That was all it took.
Walt made a small sound into his coffee. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
“I do believe I am.”
“Potential’s there.”
Willard tipped his hat back a fraction. “Mm.”
The moment disappeared back into the crowd. Easy to miss if a person didn’t know what to look for.
Willard and Walt looked at each other.
Willard raised his cup.
Walt raised his.
They touched the rims together with a quiet tap.
The music carried on. The town kept eating and drinking and laughing around the happy couple in the middle of it all, none of them aware that while one story settled.
Another stirred.
