I'm a widower. My wife of six years died six months ago. She left me with two little ones. While giving birth to our second, she had to have a caesarean and that was when they discovered the cancer. It was almost virulent. My little boy was two months old when she died. I was at a loss as to what to do. I had my daughter who had just turned two and a two-month old boy. I moved home to be closer to my mother so she could help out. I loved my kids and they seemed the only thing I was animated about. I sort of lived my life in a daze. I'm a vet and was fortunate that the town's vet was retiring. So I took over his practice and made myself at home. I found myself in Eastern Washington, traveling on the road to the Apple Valley Ranch.
I go out every couple of weeks or so to tend the animals of the rather enterprising horse ranch. It was started by the late owner but kept up faithfully by his son. He was a sweet, kind man named Jimmy to all but me. I called him James. He was maybe twenty-five. His eyes were beautifully blue and eager and open. There wasn't a hint of deception or deceit in him. Probably had more to do with his being born with the cord around his neck and slightly brain-damaged. He was a bit slow and had a hard time learning new things. But he was faithful and constant, hardworking, tireless, and kind and gentle with the horses.
James always came out to the stables while I was there. He wasn't watching over me, he just wanted to be there in case I found anything. There was a foreman for the horses too. He was a grisly old cowboy called Doc. He paid attention too. I was looking over a mare that was about to foal, maybe in a couple of weeks. I looked up and smiled at the two anxious men. This was their first foal since the old man died. I assured them that everything was fine. With that Doc let at a whoop and left the stables. I went over near the tack room to wash up. I was just rinsing my hands when I looked up and saw the calendar. I did a quick calculation in my head and realized it was six months to the day since my wife had died. I also remembered that I hadn't thought about her, really thought about her for a couple of days. I think it was more guilt than anything, but I crumpled to the ground on my knees and cried.
I just sat there, crying because my wife was gone, guilty for not thinking of her, knowing that the pain was going away. James knelt down in front of me. He looked worried. He put his hand on my shoulder; just a simple gesture letting me know that I wasn't alone. My tears let up and I looked up into James' warm, caring face. He asked me why I was so sad. I told him that when I saw the calendar that it had been six months since my wife had died. He smiled at me and told me that he couldn't remember the day anymore when his mama had died. But he remembered crying on the day when he realized that he couldn't remember anymore. It was so good to know that someone cared and offered just a little comfort.
James stood up and asked me to follow him. He led me out of the stable and up a hill towards the main ranch house. Just before the main path to the front door, the path split and James took it. It led to an arbor that we passed through. Inside was a rose garden, surrounded by tall hedges. A path that ran the length of the garden divided the plants. On one side it was completely full with mature roses in large bushes. Being late June, the aroma was almost too much. But they were beautiful, all the various shades and sizes of flowers. James led me up the path. He stopped where the other side stopped off, about halfway through the garden. He turned to me and smiled.
"One side is just common roses, the other are hybrids I try. I do four every year. This year's are just blooming." He walked over to one plant. It had blood red tips that gradually flowed into a butter cream throat. It was beautiful. James stopped in front of it and brought out a pair of pruning shears and snipped off three of the blooms. I watched as he trimmed the thorns off the stems and trimmed up the leaves. He handed them to me when he was done.
"What was your wife's name?"
"Jenny."
"What did she like to do most in the world?"
I smiled at the memory. "She liked to sing the babies to sleep in the rocking chair."
James smiled at me, full of warmth and kindness. "Then these roses shall be called 'Jenny's Lullaby'."
I was shocked. I looked down at the flowers in my hand and stammered. "James, you can't do that. God, it is so generous."
"I have a hard time naming my new roses. You just helped is all."
I knew that arguing would do me no good. His generosity and warmth made me smile. "Thank you James."
He smiled at me and we walked down the hill to the stables so I could get my bag. On the walk, I really looked at him. I had always seen him and knew what he looked like. But now I noticed him ... differently. He was tall, at least six-six. He had really broad shoulders and lean hips. He was obviously well muscled. He had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. I had registered this before, but it was slightly different. This was new. I hadn't felt like this since college.
On the drive home, I kept thinking about his smile; his gentle kindness and generosity and it made me think things I hadn't thought about in years. I remembered my first roommate in college. Adam and I found each other one night. We were cold and tired and collapsed on the same bed after a party got out of hand and destroyed the other bed. We turned during the night so we were face to face. The moment was perfect and we were kissing. We made love that night and throughout the rest of the year. We weren't being openly together; we were just enjoying the time we had. But by the end of the year, he wanted more. To be truthful, I was afraid. I turned him away out of fear. I always regretted it until I met Jenny. We shared six wonderful years and I loved her more than anything. But now that she was gone, I found myself thinking those thoughts again. Technically, I guess I would be considered bi. I enjoyed the two people I ever slept with a lot. I loved them both. But the moral climate, the fears and prejudices of the world made me turn away the first so I could find the second love of my life. Now that she was gone, with time I knew I would find a third.
