Excerpt:

Joe Parker stood before his little mirror over the sink in his room, opened the medicine cabinet which no longer held any medicines except for two individual packets of aspirin, took out his comb and carefully manicured his hair making sure the part was straight just as she liked it and the sparse gray hairs were evenly distributed. Not seeing as well as he used to he used his hand to feel his cheek and chin. There was stubble he could feel even though he couldn’t see it. “Damn gray hair,” he thought. He dabbed on a couple of splashes of Old Spice Cologne. She always liked when he wore cologne. Putting on his red flannel shirt jacket he closed the door behind him and headed for town.

They met every Saturday morning at ten o’clock in front of the coffee shop. Old Joe would get there early to buy them each a coffee. Etta would arrive, park her car across the street and join him on the bench, always bringing Petey on his leash. They would sit together, sipping coffee, looking out over the water of Hastings Lake. It was comfortable sitting with Etta, talking quietly to each other, remembering a time that was different, a slower pace, a more basic life. They both understood what the other meant and how they felt. Once in a while Etta would reach over and place her frail hand on top of Joe’s and pat it gently. Then after a bit they would both stand, walk to her car and drive off together.

Today Joe sat on the bench waiting, two coffees in hand. A half hour passed, than an hour. It wasn’t like Etta to not show up. He was sure she would have called to let him know if she couldn’t make it. Joe Parker waited. For an hour and a half he waited before he stood up and started his walk back to the Retirement Village.

Opening the door to his room he took off his red flannel jacket, the one she liked best and hung it up. He slowly walked over to the mirror above the sink and looked at his reflection. Moving in closer he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t get to come visit you today Maybelle. I don’t know where Etta is, but I’m sure I’ll get to the cemetery to see you next week. I love you honey.” Tears were forming as he turned to cross the room. He sat in his recliner. He missed his wife so desperately it made his chest ache.