Chapter 42 Knox #2
“Should we get married now?” The words burst through my lips, completely unchecked. Shit. But I don’t take them back, even though she’s only just come back to me. Even though I know this might terrify her.
But Lottie just smiles up at me and shrugs, unbothered. “If you want. Though I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me we belong to each other. I’m yours, for good. And if you say you’re mine, then I trust you.”
“Yes. Partners, then.”
“Partners.” She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss me on the nose. “What do you think Walter would have thought about this? About us?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re never going to believe this…”
Saturday, February 3rd
It’s been three weeks since she started working here, and already I can see a change.
Lottie showed up broken and more than a little lost. And if what I’ve heard around town is right, she has a right to be.
But I can see her improving a bit, day by day.
You can tell she’s far from being happy, but something inside her—maybe an innate work ethic?
—has kept her from sliding down into a deep, dark hole of despair.
This town, though. They are so nosy. They keep mentioning setting her up with other men, wanting her to restart her life as if it were as easy as snapping one’s fingers.
But I know heartbreak. I know heartbreak well.
And only one who has truly suffered through that experience—real loss—can truly understand how deep the sadness goes.
Plus, everyone keeps focusing on the man, in this scenario.
On the fact that she lost her husband. But does no one see that what she’s grieving isn’t him?
This woman is grieving who she thought she would be.
And that’s not something that can be solved by going on a date.
Certainly not from any of the simpletons here.
Lottie is brilliant. It’s no wonder she got so far in her career at such a young age. She just needs to recover on her own time. She reminds me so much of my own son.
Knox.
Maybe that’s why I’ve grown to like her so quickly. Because, in a way, they’re so similar.
Young people meant for greatness.
I pray to god she finds peace and happiness one day. I believe she deserves it.
I look up at her and smile, taking the dog-eared journal from her. “He loved you right from the get-go. Just like I did.”
She’s crying again, so I kiss her cheek before pulling her into my arms.
“Walter,” she croaks. “And you’ve been traveling around with all these journals?”
“Not all,” I say, rifling in my duffel for the other journal I want to show her. “But certainly the more influential ones. Now read this.” I flip through the dates until I find the one I marked for reference. One of the entries I’ve reread multiple times over the past several months.
Monday, January 15th
Well, I got my diagnosis today. It doesn’t look good. It’s clear to my doctors that I do not have much time left here.
I was thinking about what I would like to do until the day comes where I must go, but I’m not too keen on many of the clichés.
I don’t want to reach out to Knox just because I’m dying.
I don’t want him to feel obligated to forgive me simply because I’ve got less than a couple of months to live.
I don’t want to talk to Melissa again. And I certainly do not want to make a big thing out of it with anyone else in my life.
But one thing is for certain, I won’t leave anyone with a mess to clean up after I’m gone. So I’ve decided to clearly outline what will happen with the bookstore and the rest of my possessions.
The obvious answer, of course, is to leave Knox everything.
He is my son, after all. Which is why I called a lawyer today, right after I left the doctor’s office, and discussed leaving a detailed will.
I figure Knox could get a pretty penny from selling my things, which would perhaps help him in his work.
Maybe help with new gear, as I believe photo equipment can get quite expensive.
But as I was thinking about my legacy, I became saddened by how unsatisfactory I find it. Is that really all I’m leaving my son to remember me by? And isn’t there anyone else I can help so my death can have a more positive impact?
It’s why I’ve decided to leave him with one last thing before I go: a business partner.
The opportunity to meet Lottie, to bond with her.
Because I also hate the idea of leaving her alone in this town full of nitwits.
And as I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve also grown to care for her.
And maybe she needs this. Maybe she needs something to bring her back to life.
Whether that be by taking on more responsibility in the bookstore or whether it’s by meeting and bonding with my son.
Either way, I’ve chosen to include her among my list of beneficiaries. Darling girl.
Through her, I hope maybe Knox will get to know me better. Hate me less.
Tomorrow, I meet with Leroy to outline everything in detail.
“He wasn’t explicit about it, but I think he meant for this to happen. I think he believed we would be good together. Good for each other. So, yeah. I’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled.”
Lottie laughs once, wet and teary. “Yeah. I think we’re pretty good together.”