EPILOGUE
Irwin
Irwin removed his gloves and brushed off a few stray leaves from the top of Gilly’s headstone. Any day now, snow and ice would blanket the earth again as the temperatures dipped and the ground hardened and froze. People would once again retreat to the confines and warmth of their homes, many holed up under the light of cherished books. For the millions of bibliophiles, winter gave them the excuse they needed to hibernate and indulge without guilt.
The bookshop’s opening had been well received by the community. Years back, many big-box bookstores had closed, leaving behind a void. Abernathy & Crane filled that emptiness.
“Harper came up with a great idea the other day. She said anybody can sell a book but that we needed to do more than that. Claims we have to be involved with the community and that being a bookstore wasn’t enough. I asked her how much this was going to cost me, and do you know that girl had the nerve to stick her tongue out at me?” As the chill in the air whipped past him, Irwin put his gloves back on. “Despite her impertinence, she had a good point. Without prior approval, she started inviting local authors, traditionally published as well as Indie, to shelve their books with us. She’s also encouraged the authors to pick a month to do a book talk for free. Besides the posters, it’s been a relatively inexpensive project, unlike the talking human bookmarker she had parading up and down Main Street handing out holiday coupons—another one of her bright ideas, I might add.” Irwin laughed. “Did I tell you? Harper made honor roll for the second time this year and has applied to a few colleges. Olivia and I are trying to encourage her to stay local, but who knows? Maybe that supermarket boyfriend of hers, the one with the roach legs growing under his nose, will convince her to commute.” Irwin shuffled his foot and glanced over his shoulder.
“Christopher’s visiting his mother today. He’s been feeling guilty for not coming sooner, but he’s been burning the midnight oil with his studies lately.” Irwin vigorously rubbed his cold, gloved hands together. “Only one more semester before the boy graduates, then off to law school. Smart as a whip but no common sense. Going to be a big-shot lawyer. Hey, do me a favor. I’m not sure if this is even possible, but if there’s some way you and his mother can communicate where you are in that otherworldly plane, I’d appreciate it if you let her know from me that her son is a wonderful young man. She did a fine job raising him, although his taste in music leaves a lot to be desired.” Irwin shook his head. “I’ll tell you, Gilly, it’s one constant battle between him and Harper about what music gets played in the shop. Harper’s music tastes are worse than his. But that didn’t stop Cornelia from joining in the fray. Pissed off both of them when she turned the radio to classical. Almost caused a mutiny. Thank goodness for Olivia. She finally stepped in and made them declare a truce. We’re currently being inundated with elevator music from the sixties and seventies, but at least I can understand what the hell those singers are saying.”
Christopher waved from a distance. Irwin waved back less enthusiastically.
“Anyway, not everything has been as smooth or easy to fix. For a while, I would have sworn that Darren had a spot waiting for him right next to you if Olivia or Harper had anything to say about it. Surprisingly, I will admit, he’s doing a pretty good job of looking out for Cornelia when I’m not around. Drives her to her doctor appointments while I’m at the library. She seems to enjoy his company. And I could be wrong, but between you and me, I think he’s given up the fight about being renamed Darwin.” Irwin shrugged. “For some ungodly reason, Cornelia refuses to call him anything else. Nobody knows why, including me.”
The temperature dipped another few degrees, causing Irwin to shiver. “Cornelia misses you, Gilly. I’m afraid she’ll be leaving us soon enough. More bad days than good recently. The doctors tell me that she’s got other health issues that she never told me about. A bad ticker for one. I try to make sure she eats right. We all do. But she tells me to mind my own business and keep my nose out of her mouth. I know, disgusting, but that’s what she says. She feeds that damn hairy cat better than she feeds herself,” he grumbled. A lone tear slipped down his face. “If anything happens, I’m going to depend on you more than ever to keep an eye out for her. You know, introduce her around. Sort of like a guardian angel.” Irwin cleared his throat.
“On the upside, turns out Darren’s a good handyman. He built some wood shelves for the storeroom that could rival any professional.” Irwin lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I think this ex-con of ours is slowly but surely working his way back into Olivia and Harper’s good graces. However, Harper informed me on the sly that Olivia isn’t quite ready to forgive and forget. Rumor has it she still has him camped out on the couch.” Irwin found that amusing.
“Irwin! Are you almost ready to go?” called Harper, sitting on a bench nearby. “Mom just texted and said dinner’s at six tonight. She’s making her honey-glazed baked chicken and smashed garlic mashed potatoes. Oh, and she said to bring home dessert. Apple or pumpkin pie, whichever you want. She doesn’t care which.”
“Fine. Did you visit your grandmother?”
“I did.”
Irwin waited for more, but when nothing followed, he shouted, “Are you okay?”
Harper smiled. “Yeah. I’m good. I told Grandma that Mom will be by to see her tomorrow.”
Irwin winked. “Good. Listen, give me five more minutes.”
Harper gave Irwin the thumbs up but remained seated on the bench, taking the extra time alone to process it all.
A cool breeze blew past, causing Irwin to fasten his coat’s top button. “Cornelia and Olivia are pestering me to throw Christopher and Harper a graduation party at the shop,” he whispered. “You know how I despise parties, but do you think those two meddlesome women care? The both of them, constantly forcing me to do stuff I don’t like, and well, it’s not totally awful.”
Irwin replaced the dead flowers with a fresh winter wreath. “Harper picked this out. She said you must be sick to death of the same flowers all the time.” Irwin cringed. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.” After placing the circlet by the headstone, Irwin bent and placed a kiss on his fingers and rubbed Gilly’s name. “I miss you. I wish you—”
“Sorry to interrupt. Hey, Gilly. It’s me, Harper.” Harper tugged on Irwin’s sleeve. “We gotta go. Mom said Cornelia’s talking to herself again, which wouldn’t be so bad, but she’s losing the argument and getting all worked up. Even called a customer a twit when he asked if we carried post-apostolic books. Ordered him to leave the shop, and I quote, ‘take your vacuous, malodorous ass with you.’”
Irwin threw his head back. “Why?!”
“Who knows,” Harper shrugged, “but Mom said to hurry up.”
Irwin pulled the keys for the car out of his pocket and handed them to Harper. “Go warm up the car. I’ll be right with you.”
“Can I drive?”
“No.”
“Aw, come on. I need seventy more hours behind the wheel before I can take my road test.”
“No.”
“But why not?” whined Harper.
“Because I feel like living another day.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“Fair has nothing to do with it,” countered Irwin.
“I can drive.”
“Who told you that lie?”
“Come on, Irwin, please?”
Irwin turned. “Do you see what I have to deal with, Gilly? This one’s a regular, first-class hemorrhoid.”
Harper pinched Irwin on the arm.
“Stop that!”
“Christopher said he would teach me,” implored Harper.
“What did I say I would do?” said Christopher upon hearing his name being bantered about. He draped his long, lean arm over Harper’s shoulder. “What alternative facts are you telling now?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Jerk.”
“Enough. Christopher, please take our juvenile delinquent back to the car with you. I’m al
most done.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and whatever you do, don’t let her convince you she can drive.”
Christopher laughed. “You got it, boss. You heard him. Let’s go, grasshopper,” he told a pouting Harper.
“Traitor,” Harper snapped, trailing closely behind Christopher, at times skipping to keep up with his long strides.
Irwin watched as the two walked away. He couldn’t help but smile. “All in all, having Harper in my life has been…” He searched for the right words. “…incredible. A pain in the royal behind, but honestly incredible.” He placed a last, soft kiss on Gilly’s headstone. “I love you.”
Despite Harper’s dire warning, Irwin took his time getting back to the car. He didn’t feel much like rushing, comfortable to remain still. All too aware how life had given him trials, some he never thought he’d get through. Others he never wanted to face again. But today, for this moment in time, Irwin allowed his blessings to reign.
In the quietude of the cemetery’s lifeless air, Irwin thought about all the things he’d forgotten or chosen not to say to those who meant the most to him. He remembered all too clearly the many occasions when it had felt safer to remain silent…stoic in the face of real and valued involvement. Happy to stay hidden behind his emotions rather than putting them on full display. Irwin contemplated how moving forward, he’d do things differently. But where and who to begin with?
As Irwin approached the car, he could hear laughter. The two of them were so loud that they didn’t even realize he was there. Irwin bent over and wrapped his knuckles on the car window, startling the squabbling duo. “The door’s locked,” he said.
Christopher popped the lock, and Irwin slid into the front passenger seat.
“Ready?” asked Christopher.
Irwin nodded. It had been a long day, and he was starving. “Drive!” he commanded in jest. “Honey-baked chicken awaits us,” he said, stealing a quick glance into the rearview mirror.
“Don’t forget Mom’s garlic smashed potatoes,” answered Harper from the backseat, snapping her seatbelt closed. “We still need to stop and get an apple or pumpkin pie, although if anyone had asked me, I’d have said sweet potato, but who am I, right?” Harper checked her phone. “Hold up. Cornelia must have called. She left me a message.” Harper pressed her ear to the phone. “Um, Irwin? She said to tell you also to pick up a pint of shrimp lo mein.”
“I thought you said we were having baked chicken?” He turned fully around.
“We are. The lo mein is for Bones.”
Irwin grumbled. “That mangy, entitled furball.”
For a split second, the car went silent until Harper, unable to contain herself any longer, started to giggle with Christopher joining in. The more Irwin grumbled, the harder the two laughed until finally, Irwin broke through the noise.
“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he said, miffed.
More hilarity ensued.
Irwin shook his head. “That damn cat. Cornelia treats him like royalty. I ask you, what royalty do you know who uses a shit box?”
Rip-roaring laughter.
“Fine, fine. You two yuck it up all you want,” said Irwin, “but know that I willed that two-pint feline dictator to the two of you when I kick the bucket.”
Harper stopped laughing. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Well, not yet maybe, but I will.” Irwin shifted in his seat and raised his chin indignantly. “Mark my words!”
Harper slunk down in the back seat, fanning herself, taking in large gulps of air, and she tried to breathe through her mouth to stop the giggles. “I bet you will.”
Irwin gazed out the window, blocking out Christopher and Harper as they prattled on with their inane, ridiculous banter as to whether chickens could breastfeed.
From the passenger seat, Irwin stared straight ahead. Unbeknown to either of his two young companions, the tiniest of smiles appeared on Irwin’s content face. The face of a man who had finally found his place in the world and a life filled with good people—people he now called friends and family.
THE END.
…or maybe not.
Acknowledgments
I am grateful to all who helped make writing Unlikely Friends such an incredible experience:
I wish to thank Limitless Publishing for taking me on, believing in my book, and for giving Unlikely Friends a welcoming home. Christina Kaye, my talented editor: thank you for your kindness and encouragement. Lydia Harbaugh, Marketing Director, who always made the time to answer my questions and concerns no matter how redundant.
To the Lady Writers—Susan Moore Jordan, Catherine Schratt, Kelly Jensen, Belinda Nevill Gordon: thank you for your excellent editorial suggestions and insightful manuscript comments. Love you ladies!
My early readers—Harriet Van Houten, Diane Bukoski, Anne Quirindongo, and Jen Bradley: thank you for your wisdom, encouragement, and especially your eagle eyes. This typo queen couldn’t have done it without you.
To my family near and far. You are my heart. My reason for writing. I am grateful to you all for your continued love and support. xo
About the Author
Sahar Abdulaziz has authored seven books: But You LOOK Just Fine [Health/non-fiction], As One Door Closes [Contemporary Fiction], The Broken Half [Contemporary Fiction], Secrets That Find Us [Fiction/Thriller/Suspense], Tight Rope [Thriller/Political Fiction], Expendable [Psychological suspense] and her children’s book, The Dino Flu. Abdulaziz’s work covers a wide range of hard-hitting topics: mood disorders [depression, anxiety, PTSD, OCD, PPD], domestic violence and sexual assault, marital and family dysfunction, racism, sexism, and prejudice, but most of all–survivorship. Her multidimensional characters have been described as having “substance and soul.”
Originally from New York, Sahar moved to Pennsylvania in 1993 with her growing family. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in psychology and a Master of Science degree in Health and Wellness Promotion and Administration, as well as a certification in Community Health Administration. In 1995, she received a Certificate in Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Crisis Intervention Counseling, and shortly after, as a Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault Counselor/Advocate. She volunteered for many years as a hotline worker and counselor/advocate. In 2016, Abdulaziz received an award for Community Written Expression at the Second Annual Monroe County Image Awards and in 2018, nominated for the Rabata, ‘We Are Aisha’ Award in the category Writer/Author. Most recently, she has guest co-hosted for Sistah Chat Radio, WESS 90.3 FM, Gynesis Radio, and is a member of the Pocono Liar’s Writer’s Club. Rep’d by Djarabi Kitabs Publishing and Limitless Publishing, LLC.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSaharAbdulaziz
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/Sahar_Author
Website:
https://www.saharraziz.com/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/saharraziz/
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