“That’s terrible.”
“Yes, Bob lived a very solitary life. I only found out after they were clearing his apartment. At some point I had given him my business card. You see, I’m a lawyer, and Bob wanted me to write his will. We never got around to a meeting, but he must have known his days were numbered because he wrote his own will right on the back of a paper plate.” She laughed and looked up to the ceiling of the train. “Bob didn’t have much, but he sure wanted you to have a few of his things. His apartment was full of books.” My eyes widened. She reached out and grasped my hand. “Most of the books were donated to schools and libraries, but Bob had set a few aside in a little shoebox with a note. On the plate he wrote ‘Please make sure Kate from the train, the young girl with big eyes and dark hair gets the shoebox.’ It was luck that they contacted me after finding my card and that I remembered you, but I didn’t know if I would ever find you. I just made a silent promise that I would watch every person that got on and off the train.”
“So what does the note say?”
“I haven’t read it.” She stood up. “This is my stop. Can we meet tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, meet me at the Rosehill Cemetery mausoleum at ten a.m. You know where that is?”
“Yes.” I knew it well. “Thank you,” I said as I took the card. I stared at it for several minutes before putting it in my pocket. I wondered why Bob had singled me out of the group of followers.
After work, I went home and slid into bed. I opened my phone to three new voice mails. One was Dylan. Hey, chica. Ashley turns eighteen tomorrow, holy shit!
His voice got super high. I wanted to know if I could borrow your apartment. I’ll pay for you to go to a movie or something.
I texted him back:
Me: So you want to use my apartment to have sex with your girlfriend?
He responded almost immediately.
Dylan: Um yeah. Is that bad?
I laughed to myself. Dylan was always so innocently honest. It was kind of charming. I think if I had met Jamie in the right circumstances, I would have felt the same way about him.
Me: Fine. You better wash the sheets and you better be safe with her.
Dylan: I’m no dummy.
Me: You should make her dinner. My kitchen is stocked. Be a gentleman.
Dylan: You read my mind.
Me: I’ll leave around six. You have a key, right?
Dylan: Yeah, from that time I had to feed Anchovy
Me: K. Have fun.
I listened to the second voice mail from Jerry. We’re cleaning out the stockroom. Your suitcase is still in here. Seriously, Kate, I’m trashing it if you don’t come and get it. I’m working tomorrow for a couple of hours. Maybe you can pick it up and we can grab lunch?
The suitcase was packed with everything from my time in Napa and all of the R.J. research. The dress I’d worn on our date was in there, as well as the necklace and note from Jamie. A lump began to form in my throat. Why am I not over this yet?
As expected, the third voice mail was from Jamie. Hi, —He paused and took a deep breath.—I went to GLIDE today. A few people asked me about you. I had to tell them that I was a fool . . . and that I let you slip away. I heard a subtle change in his voice, like he was choked up. Night, angel.
That’s why I wasn’t over it yet. But I didn’t cry that night. There were no tears left.
I met Christina in the entry of the mausoleum at Rosehill the next morning. She held the box out to me as I approached. There was a folded note taped to the top. “Good morning,” I said to her as I took the box and peeled the note off. I unfolded it immediately and read:
Kate from the L,
I remember when I first met you months ago. You seemed so disconsolate and distant. I know we didn’t know each other well, but I felt a desire to help. Now I fear I may have failed you. You see, you reminded me of someone I used to know. Her name was Lily and she was beautiful, young, and vibrant, and she was the love of my life. You look like her—same warm eyes and dark hair. I used to get lost in her eyes. I wasn’t always such a lonely ogre. I was full of life once, but I lost my Lily too soon when she passed away just after our wedding. I saw you in the same kind of pain that I’d felt. I didn’t want to see my Lily in pain. I thought if I made you believe that there was happiness in solitude, that you couldn’t and shouldn’t rely on another human being, maybe you would stop feeling that pain. I was wrong. What I really want you to know is that I would have traded a lifetime with my books, alone in my apartment, for one more minute with Lily, even if it meant I had to feel that pain over and over again. Don’t give up, Kate. Don’t stop searching. Find him, take care of each other, hold on to each other, and never let go.
I hope this finds you well and still hopeful.
Your friend,
Bob
To say I was a blubbering mess would be putting it lightly. Even Christina was crying just from watching me read the note.