New York Times Bestselling Author

***Disclaimer

This story is sad. But I didn't write it to be that way. 

I wrote it as the ultimate love story. 

If this was me, I would feel comforted in the knowledge I had someone who loved me enough to stick by my side no matter what. 

-Read at your own risk. :)  

 

The Boardwalk
by Susan Stoker


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Susan Stoker

No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

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Manufactured in the United States


 The Boardwalk

The man looked down at the fancy watch on his wrist. There were a lot of features on it that he’d never used, but it didn’t matter, because the one and only reason he’d bought the extravagant electronic had more than once justified the cost he’d had to pay for it.

The cool breeze blowing in from the ocean ruffled his short gray hair as he walked with purpose along the boardwalk. His eyes swept back and forth from the watch on his wrist, to the ocean waves lazily crashing along the beach, to the many people out and about enjoying their day.

The afternoon was perfect. Blue skies, the sun was out, but wasn’t too hot, and everywhere he looked were people out and about enjoying the weather. It was a special day for him and he was pleased the weather was cooperating.

There were strategically placed benches along the boardwalk, most of which were filled with young mothers and children taking a break, or older men and women soaking in the sun.

Getting tired himself, the man was happy to see one such bench coming up along his route. There was an older woman sitting on one end of it, her face tipped up to the sun, a small smile on her face.

“Is this seat taken? May I sit?” the man asked, smiling down at the woman. Her hair was as gray as his and pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. Wisps of hair had escaped the confines of her hairdo and were blowing against her cheek and face, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

Her hands were wrinkled with age, and rested serenely in her lap. She wore a pair of gray slacks and a yellow blouse. Both were simple garments, meant more for comfort than fashion.

She looked up at him and smiled hugely. “Of course.”

The man sat down and put one arm along the back of the bench. They sat quietly for a long moment before he said politely, “Beautiful day today.”

“It is,” the woman agreed. “It reminds me of one of the best days of my life.”

“Oh?”

She nodded and kept her gaze on the beach in front of her as she spoke. “My wedding day. Well…not my original wedding day, that was the best day of my life, but this one was a close second.”

The man waited for her to continue, but when it looked like she’d forgotten he was even there, he cleared his throat and prompted, “Was it a vow renewal ceremony?”

She started then giggled and turned her head to him. “Yes. It was our twenty-fifth anniversary and my husband had it all planned out. He didn’t tell me about it, and miraculously managed to keep it secret.” A loving smile crept across her face at the obviously good memory.

“All our friends were there, just as they’d been at our original wedding. Not only that, but many of their children and grandchildren were also there. My husband tricked me asked me to go for a walk on the beach with him. I had no idea all our friends were there. They were all waiting for us when we got to the beach. Shocked the hell out of me, I’ll tell ya.”

The man laughed at the use of the expletive. “I bet that was a surprise. I can picture the scene, you thought you were taking a romantic evening walk, and then all of a sudden you were getting re-married.”

“Exactly!” she told him, looking back out to the beach, lost in thought. “But it was lovely. And for a man, my husband did a wonderful job with the little details. Everyone had coordinated and were wearing white, he’d bought me a new dress the day before, pink. The hotel nearby had set up tables so after we said our vows everyone got to sit down to eat.” She sighed. “The picture of me and my husband standing by the ocean with the sun setting behind us is one of my most treasured possessions.”

“I bet you were beautiful.”

The woman turned and glared at the stranger next to her. “Are you flirting with me?”

He held up both hands in capitulation. “No! I recognize a taken woman when I see one!”

She fingered the necklace around her neck. “I might not be wearing rings anymore, darn things kept falling off and I kept losing them, so my husband got me this necklace instead.”

“May I?” the man asked, reaching out a hand and gesturing to the large pendant.

She nodded and held it out.

The man scooted closer to her on the bench and closed his fingers around the unusual stone around her neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”

“I told my husband it was too much. Especially to wear day in and day out, but he said that only the most unique and beautiful pendant could do my beauty justice.”

“What is this stone?” the man asked.

“Ammolite,” the woman told him immediately. “It’s made of aragonite, a mineral that’s naturally forming in stalactites like in Carlsbad Caverns.”

She sounded like she was reciting by rote, but the man didn’t interrupt her.

“It’s made of fossilized shells. My husband said it’s one of the few biogenic substances in the world…made by life processes…or something. Anyway, he said it was perfect for me because it came from the ocean…and since he loved the ocean, it would be like I was always wearing a part of him around my neck.”

“He sounds like quite the man.”

“Oh he was…is.” She frowned then, as if thinking about her husband made her sad.

Not wanting her to dwell on painful thoughts, the man dropped the pink stone back into her hand and changed the subject. “I can understand why you like to sit here then, especially since it brings back such great memories for you. I’ve always loved the ocean. It’s powerful and deadly, yet soothing at the same time.”

“Yes. I’ve never been a good swimmer, but I too have always liked being by the water. My husband was a fish. He could swim better than just about anyone I’ve ever met. He and his friends would spend hours in the water, horsing around and joking with each other.”

The man smiled at the affection in the woman’s voice. He leaned back against the wooden slats of the bench and grimaced. His arthritis was acting up today and his bones hurt. The warmth of the sun felt good against his aching joints and he wasn’t ready to go inside yet. He was eighty-six years old and no longer a spring chicken, but he’d be damned if he spent the end of his life lying around in a bed waiting to die. Besides, he had an important job to fulfill and didn’t have time to be infirm.

He was still lean and ate as well as he could, not wanting to fill his body with unneeded chemicals and additives. He’d worked out every day of his life until about ten years ago when he’d had his knee replaced. The recovery had been long and he’d thought for a while he’d never walk again, but as he did with all the other injuries he’d had throughout his lifetime, he’d fought through the pain and overcome his temporary disability.

His face was wrinkled, as was the rest of his body. No longer the svelte and muscular man he used to be, but most days he was too busy to notice or care. Married himself, he took care of his eighty-two year old wife from the time she woke up until the time she went to bed at night. He made sure she ate healthy meals. Made sure she wasn’t harassed or treated unfairly during the day, it was amazing how horrible folks could be to “old people”, and he kept her company as she watched television or played cards.

He’d taken vows to be by her side through sickness and health, thick and thin, no matter what. Their lives were slowly coming to an end, but he couldn’t think of anything better than spending every last second of it with his beautiful wife.

The woman he married was his life and he completely understood this woman’s devotion to her own husband. To further the conversation, the man said, “I used to be able to swim pretty good once upon a time.”

Her eyes came to him and he held back the grin as she eyed him from his feet up to his head.

“You don’t look much like a swimmer,” was her somewhat snarky response.

The man burst out laughing. When he finally got himself under control he said, “Maybe not now, but in my day, I was a force to be reckoned with.”

“Not me,” the woman said, smiling to herself and looking back the beach. There were several families with children playing on the beach and in the surf. She kept her eyes on the children as she said, “I spent most of my life in the shadows.”

“Did you like that?”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “Not really, but I was used to it.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“Well, once I met my husband he wouldn’t let anyone overlook me.”

“As well he shouldn’t” the man said. “A good husband does what he can to make his wife happy. And you look like the kind of woman who wouldn’t be happy in the background.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” she said easily.

“You have children?” the man asked, noting the contentment on her face as she watched the kids playing on the beach.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Never wanted them. But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t children in our lives.”

“I’m confused,” the man told her shifting against the bench, his back continuing to ache.

“My husband and I might never have had kids, but most of our friends did. Almost every weekend was spent with kids sleeping over so their parents could have a break. I remember one weekend we actually had thirteen children in the house.”

“Thirteen?” the man mock shivered. “All belonging to one couple?”

She chuckled. “No. Four.”

“I think I want to hear this story,” the man said, leaning forward to stretch out the kinks in his back, his elbows resting on his knees, his head turned to keep the woman’s face in view.

“Me and my girlfriends were sitting around complaining about this and that and how we never got to see our husbands as much as we wanted. It had been a tough couple months at work and they were gone more than usual. I got to thinking about how much I loved my time alone with my husband when he got home from his long absences, and felt guilty that my friends had to share that time with their kids. So I offered to babysit all of their kids one weekend after our husbands had been gone for a long time.”

“That was a generous thing to do,” the man told her.

“It was,” she said with no artifice. “But I conned my other childless friend and her husband into helping me. So there we were. Four adults, eight little girls ranging from age thirteen to two and five boys, from fifteen to four. It was insane, but fun.”

“What’d you do? How’d you keep them all entertained?”

“Water.”

“Water?”

“Yes, water. Squirt guns, a portable pool, water balloons. It was mayhem, but so fun. And bonus, we didn’t have to give them baths.”

“I can imagine,” the man told her, picturing shrieking children running around a back yard with the adults laughing and joining in the fun.

“So me and my husband might not have had kids, but every one of my friends’ children are special to me and we love every single one.”

The man shifted uncomfortably on the bench once more. He had to move. When his bones hurt like they were right now, it meant if he didn’t get up and walk, he’d be hurting more later. And if the pain got too bad, he wouldn’t be able to take care of his wife. “Want to take a walk?” he asked the woman.

When she looked uneasy, he quickly said, “Not far. And we won’t go fast. But my arthritis is acting up and if I don’t get up now, I’ll be flat on my back tonight. I’d love to hear more of your stories.”

At mention of her stories, she smiled and slowly pushed herself to her feet and held out her hand to him. “I’d love to walk. Thank you.”

He took hold of her hand and let her help him up. Once upright, he dropped her hand and held out his elbow. “Ma’am?”

She wrapped her hand around his arm and let him take some of her weight as they began to shuffle down the boardwalk.

All around them men, women, and children walked, ran, and rode their fancy scooters past them. The man kept them to the right, out of the way of the fast-moving traffic. The last thing he wanted was to have the woman hurt because of his need to walk.

“Any other kid stories?” he asked as they continued.

“Of course. Those kids are a handful, but hilarious,” the woman told him, smiling broadly. “There was the time when Taylor got her toes stuck in the bathtub faucet. Her dad freaked out. He wanted to call nine-one-one but luckily his wife called me instead. I raced over to their house and managed to slick her up with enough Vaseline that her toes popped right out.”

“Surely he was used to his daughter doing weird stuff like that. I mean, kids get into trouble all the time…”

“She was his only child, and he was very protective. He was such a manly man, but anytime his wife or daughter got hurt, he turned into a helpless mess.”

“What else?” the man asked, enjoying the happy tone of the woman’s voice when she talked about her friends.

“Me and another friend offered to babysit for another friend who had six kids. They were out of control that night, I’m not sure why. But by the time we got everyone in bed and they actually stayed there, my friends came home. I went home and told my husband how glad I was that we never had children, and we had the most amazing sex.”

The woman had a comforting cadence to her voice. It soothed the man’s soul. He was a happily married man, but he could listen to this woman talk all day.

“What about you?” she asked suddenly. “Do you have any kids?”

At her question, the smile on the man’s face disappeared. He looked defeated and sad all of a sudden, but he quickly recovered, turning to the woman next to him. He patted her hand which was lying on her arm as they walked, and told her, “No. No children. Like you, I never really wanted any and lived vicariously through my friends’ kids. And now their grandchildren,” he said almost as an after thought.

“Grandkids,” the woman said, tilting her head and looking off into the distance as they continued onward.

“Yes. There are too many to count,” the man told her. “At the last reunion, there had to have been at least twenty of them running around.”

“There was a time when I babysat thirteen kids at once,” the woman said.

The man looked at the woman with an unreadable look on his face, then said hesitantly, “You told me.”

“I did?” she looked confused for a moment, then said, “Oh yeah, silly me. Sometimes I’m a bit forgetful.”

The man patted her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it.”

They came to a section of the boardwalk that forked. The path to the right went down to the beach. The path to the left went around a smaller building which held restrooms then wound around to a large building known to locals as “The Establishment.” It had apartments inside, a cafeteria, a small bowling alley, and a movie theater exclusively for the residents of the building. It specialized in older, classic movies.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“What?”

“Food. You want to go to lunch with me? My treat.” He smiled down at her.

She looked confused for a moment, as if she didn’t know what she should say.

“I’m married, remember?” the man asked quietly, holding up his left hand and showing her the band on his finger. “I’m tired and figure you might be too. We can have lunch then go our separate ways.”

She nodded then. “All right. But I can’t stay too long. I…I need to be somewhere.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately, turning them to the left. “The food here is excellent. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

She looked up at the large building as they approached and relaxed against him. “I’m sure I will,” she said quietly.

The man led them up to the front doors and into the lobby. A few people greeted them respectfully, but he didn’t stop. He walked them into the restaurant and the hostess at the front smiled as they approached.

“Good afternoon. Table for two?” she asked politely.

“Yes please,” the man answered.

Without another word, the woman led them to a table which overlooked the boardwalk they’d just been walking on and the ocean on the other side. He thanked the hostess and she told them their waitress would be with them in a moment.

“It’s beautiful,” the old woman breathed as she caught her first glimpse of the view. “How’d you know I love to look at the ocean?”

With a small smile, the man said, “I had a hunch.” He helped her sit and took his own chair on the other side of the small table.

As soon as they were seated, a waitress came over to their table. She put two glasses of water down in front of them and handed them a one-page laminated menu.

“Hello. My name is Jessie. I’ll be your server today. The special today is baked chicken, green beans, and potatoes au gratin.”

“And dessert?” the man asked.

The waitress chuckled as if she’d heard his question, asked just as eagerly, before. “German chocolate cake.”

“One of my favorites,” the man told her and winked at the young lady.

She chuckled. “I’ll be back in just a moment to get your order. Take your time.” She patted the man on the shoulder, then walked away.

“She was nice,” the woman noted absently. With a far away look in her eyes, then said, “One of the kids I used to babysit was called Jessie.”

“Really?” the man asked. “What a coincidence.”

“Uh huh.”

“Want to make it easy and get the special?” he asked.

“What? Oh. Sure. I like chicken.”

“Good.”

As soon as they put down the plain menus, Jessie was there.

“We’ll both have the special, Jessie. Thank you,” the man told her.

“Two specials, coming right up,” she said efficiently, then left them alone once again.

“Tell me what your favorite memory of your husband is,” the man asked, thinking of his own wife as he did.

“My favorite memory,” she mused. “That’s a hard one. I have so many. Let’s see…I think it was dancing to our song on our wedding day.”

The man smiled wide. “That’s one of my favorite memories of my wife too.”

She hummed a few bars of a song the man recognized.

“That’s an unconventional wedding song,” he noted.

She nodded. “It is. But it fit us so well. I had the hardest time choosing a song. It drove me crazy. But the first time I heard that song, I knew it was meant for us.”

“It’s lovely.”

She nodded in agreement. “What’s your favorite memory of your wife?” she asked.

“I can’t pick one,” the man said immediately. “From our second meeting, I knew she was mine.”

“Your second meeting? Not your first?” she asked eyebrows raised.

“As she liked to rub it in, the first time we met, I didn’t really notice her. But thank God I had a second chance.”

The woman laughed. “She sounds like a forgiving sort.”

“Oh she is,” the man reassured her. “But she’s not a pushover. Not at all. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met in my life, and I’ve met some strong women in my time. She’s selfless and giving and kind. You asked what my favorite memory of her is, and I lied when I said I couldn’t pick one. It’s the look of her peaceful face, asleep in our bed, then the look of love that would shine in her eyes when she opened them and saw me lying next to her. That’s my favorite memory.”

The woman’s brow furrowed and she moved her gaze to the ocean in the distance. The man looked out too and saw a group of men running down the beach in shorts and gray t-shirts.

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh look. Here come the soldiers!”

They watched in silence as the squad of men suddenly stopped and began to do pushups in the sand. Then they moved to their backs and did a series of sit-ups. Then they all jumped up and began to run again. Both the man and woman turned their heads and watched their progress down the beach. A hundred yards later, they dropped to the sand again to start the pushup and sit-up process over again.

“They do that every day you know,” the woman said knowingly. “Without fail. Every day.”

“They must be disciplined,” the man noted.

“Of course. They couldn’t become the world’s best soldiers if they weren’t.”

“What do you know about it?” the man asked genuinely curious as to her answer.

The woman turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

He threw his head back and laughed just as Jessie came back to their table with two plates piled high with food. “Two specials. You’re in luck, the cook just took the rolls out of the oven, so they’re piping hot. Be careful though, don’t burn yourselves.”

“Thank you, Jessie,” the man said. “Everything looks delicious.”

“Oh my, this is a ton of food,” the woman exclaimed, looking down at her plate in consternation.

“Don’t worry, whatever you can’t finish, I’m sure the handsome gentleman at your side will be happy to,” the waitress said with a smile. Then she left after saying, “Let me know if I can get anything else for you. I’ll bring dessert out when you’re ready.”

“She’s very nice,” the woman observed.

“She sure is,” the man agreed. “Shall we?” he asked, pointing to the food in front of them with his chin.

They ate in silence for a while. The man looked over and saw that the woman was merely picking at her green beans. “You should eat those, you know. They’re good for you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really like them.”

He shrugged. “At our age, we need all the vitamins we can get.”

She smiled, “That’s true.”

“I’m sure your husband wants to have you around for a good long time yet.”

“True,” she nodded. “He would expect me to clean my plate.” Then she picked up her fork and speared several of the green vegetables on it. She ate the mouthful, chewing carefully and almost daintily.

“Is your wife a good cook?” she asked when she’d finished chewing.

He shook his head fondly. “It wasn’t ever one of her favorite things to do. She did it, of course, and I always ate whatever she made for us. But now we usually eat out. Why spend time doing something neither of us enjoys. Life is too short.”

“I agree. You look like you can put a lot of food down. My husband would eat us out of house and home if I didn’t keep on top of our groceries.”

The man smiled. “My wife always used to accuse me of that.”

They grinned at each other, then continued to eat in a companionable silence.

Just when they were finishing up their lunch, Jessie reappeared with two slices of chocolate cake. A smaller one for the woman, and a larger piece for the man.

“How’d you know this one was of my favorites?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of the sweet dessert.

“Maybe it was the drool on your face when you asked what we were serving for dessert,” Jessie teased.

The man mock-scowled at her while both the waitress and the woman across from him laughed.

“I’m teasing. But you look like a man who likes sweet things.” Her eyes glanced over to the woman on the other side of the table, before meeting his again.

“My wife always says so,” he responded calmly, not reacting to the waitress’s blatant matchmaking attempts.

She took the hint, and told them to enjoy their dessert and left them alone once more.

The woman managed to eat half of her piece of cake, and the man was quick to ask if he could finish it off for her. As if they’d done it many times before, the woman didn’t say a word, but pushed her small plate across the table and allowed him to finish it for her.

Jessie brought out two cups of tea and set them on the table, saying, “There’s nothing like a good cup of tea to finish off a meal.”

The woman took a sip, then exclaimed softly, “Earl Gray. It’s one of my favorites!”

“Imagine that,” the man said, hiding his smile behind the cup as he took a sip of his own tea.

Several moments went by. Moments where the woman’s eyes were once again drawn to the ocean as if compelled somehow.

“What do you see when you look at the water?” the man asked quietly, genuinely curious.

“It’s not anything I see. It’s a feeling.”

“What do you feel?

“Safe.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied immediately. “It’s not something I can explain. But when my husband used to be away from home, I’d go to the ocean and pray for his safe return. Knowing he was out in the world somewhere, maybe swimming in the very waves I was looking at, comforted me.” She shrugged. “It’s silly, but being by the ocean always makes me feel closer to him.”

“It’s not silly at all,” the man told her, tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you ever tell your husband that?”

She shook her head. “No. He worried enough about me when he was away from home. The last thing I ever wanted to do was add to that worry. Better he think I was busy and not worrying about him while he was gone.”

“I doubt he ever thought you were too busy to think about him.”

“Perhaps not,” she answered thoughtfully.

“Today is my fiftieth wedding anniversary,” the man told her out of the blue.

Her eyes came to his. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’ve been blessed with fifty years with the love of my life.”

“Do you have plans to celebrate?” she asked, taking another sip of her tea.

He shook his head. “Not really. We have friends visiting, but that’s about it.”

“Not even a cake?” she teased.

“Maybe a german chocolate cake,” the man told her teasingly.

She chuckled. “Well, if it’s as good as the one we had today, she’s in for a treat.” She frowned suddenly, then whispered, “I can’t remember how long I’ve been married to my husband.”

Taking a chance he’d spook the woman, but wanting to comfort her in her distress, the man put his hand over hers on the table. “It’s not the years that count, but the time spent together.”

She nodded. “You’re right. Besides, I’m sure my husband is keeping track. He’s smart like that.”

“He has to be smart. He snagged you, right?” the man teased.

“Hell yeah,” the old lady responded snarkily.

They both laughed.

Then she yawned.

“You look tired,” the man observed. “You know, there’s a great quiet room here. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you took a nap before you continued on with your day.”

“I don’t know,” she wavered.

“Come on, let me show you. Then you can make a decision,” the man cajoled.

“Okay. But I’m not staying if I don’t want to.”

“Of course not. No one could make you do anything you didn’t want to. I can tell that about you.”

The man stood up, repressing a groan as his joints complained at the movement, but he held out his hand to the woman, not letting on that he was in pain. The woman took hold of his hand and allowed him to assist her to her feet.

“Would you like to take a cup of tea with you?” the man asked.

“I don’t think so, but thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

They headed out of the restaurant and the hostess wished them a good afternoon. The man led the woman through the old-fashioned lobby, down a long hallway with doors on either side, to a door at the end. The word “library” was on a plaque on the door. He opened it and they stepped into the room.

He led the woman past a table where an older couple was playing cards. Past a sitting area with a small television and four people sitting around on chairs and a couch watching. Past three tall shelves filled with books and a small table with a large comfortable looking office chair to an armchair in an alcove. It was sitting next to a large window, once again facing the ocean.

“Oh, how lovely,” the woman exclaimed.

The man smiled. “I thought you might like this spot.”

“I do, it’s wonderful. And that chair looks divine. Well used and comfortable.”

“Imagine that,” the man murmured. Then louder he said, “Have a seat.”

She nodded and he helped her ease herself into the comfortable leather chair. The cushion engulfed her slight frame and she settled back as if she’d done it a thousand times before.

The man leaned over and pushed a footstool closer to the chair, then lifted the woman’s feet until they rested on the leather cushion.

She groaned in ecstasy as she leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes. “This feels wonderful,” she said quietly.

“Go ahead a take a nap,” the man told her.

Her eyes popped open. “Oh, but I need to get home and make sure dinner is on the table for my husband.”

“I’m sure you’ll be up in an hour or two. You’ll have plenty of time to get home to your husband.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll feel so much better when I wake up I’m sure.”

“Sleep well,” the man told her softly.

“Ummm,” was the woman’s response. She’d turned her head and was gazing out the window at the waves rolling onto the beach once more.

The man backed up, not taking his eyes from the woman in the chair. He went around the corner and sat down at the small table they’d passed earlier. The chair had a well-worn pad on it and even though there were many people milling about, none had claimed the obviously comfortable and peaceful spot where the man now sat.

Several minutes went by before the waitress from the restaurant appeared next to the table.

“Can I sit?”

The man nodded and gestured with his head to the chair next to him.

Jessie pulled it out, careful not to make any noise so she didn’t wake the sleeping woman around the corner.

“She get settled?”

The man nodded.

“Grandpop and the others will be here in about an hour,” Jessie informed the man. “You think she’ll still be sleeping?”

Matthew “Wolf” Steel looked at the young woman sitting next to him. She was the spitting image of her grandmother. “She’ll sleep throughout the afternoon,” he told the woman. Jessie was his good friend, Kason “Benny” Sawyer’s granddaughter. He and his wife had birthed six children before Jessyka had called it quits. All six children had been as fertile as their parents and Benny and Jessyka now had over fifteen grandchildren.

One of which was Jessie, who worked at the retirement home as a server in the cafeteria. The home was set up to look and feel more like a hotel, than an old-folks home. Research over the years had shown that elderly residents felt better about themselves and were healthier as a result if they lived in a less clinical and depressing setting.

They’d transformed the typical cafeteria into a restaurant. Complete with a hostess and waitresses. Residents got to choose what they wanted to eat from a daily menu and of course there were no bills delivered at the end of the meal.

“By the way,” Jessie said softly, “Happy anniversary.”

“Thanks, kid,” Wolf told her.

“Does she know?”

“That it’s our anniversary? No,” Wolf said sadly.

“She’s having a bad day,” Jessie said. It wasn’t a question.

“No worse than some she’s had lately.”

“The tracking device in her necklace is working as Grampa Tex meant for it to though, right? That’s how you found her today?”

Wolf nodded. “I took a pain pill last night and by the time I got up this morning, she was already gone.”

“Good thing you have that fancy watch, huh?” Jessie teased.

“It’s ugly as sin, but it leads me right to her,” Wolf agreed.

“You know you don’t have to live here, Grampa Wolf,” Jessie said, telling him something he knew.

Wolf replied with the same thing he said every time one of his friends, or their kids, or their kids tried to convince him to move out of the home. “She’s my Caroline. I spent way too much of our marriage apart from her. I’m not gong to miss a minute now.”

“But she doesn’t know you,” Jessie said, clearly not understanding.

“But I know her,” Wolf returned. “I’ve always protected her. Always. And I’m not about to stop now.”

Jessie leaned over and brushed her lips against his wrinkled cheek. “I hope I can someday find a man who is as devoted to me as you are to your wife.”

“Me too, Jessie. Me too.”

They smiled at each other for a moment before Wolf said, “Thanks for the cake.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you could share your anniversary cake with your wife.”

“She liked it didn’t she?” Wolf asked, a tender look on his face as he recalled the look of enjoyment on his wife’s face as she ate their anniversary cake.

“She did. But your friends are going to wonder why there are two pieces missing from the cake.”

Wolf shook his head. “No they won’t.” And they wouldn’t either. Abe, Cookie, Mozart, Dude, Benny, and Tex would absolutely understand. They’d been as devastated as Wolf had been when Caroline had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

The disease had slowly taken over her mind, leaving her lost in the past and not knowing who her husband was, or even the women who’d been her friends for too many years to count. But they still came to visit. All the time. They’d pretend to be strangers and they’d sit with Caroline letting her reminisce about her “husband and friends,” never letting on that she was talking with one of those good friends.

Before she’d completely lost her memory, Caroline had tried to get him to promise to move on with his life when she no longer remembered him, and he’d finally relented and told her he would. But he’d lied. He could no more move on with his life without her than he could breathe underwater.

Every now and then she’d say or do something that was so bittersweet it almost brought him to his knees…like today when she’d told him she used to stand by the sea and pray for his safe return from missions.

When she’d gotten ill, he’d researched long and hard, with Tex’s help, and they’d decided on The Establishment. It had a great reputation, and more importantly, it was by the ocean since she loved it so much. He’d had her pendant fitted with a tracking device and had made himself her protector. All day, every day, he’d watch over his wife. Making sure she ate, slept, and didn’t wander off and get lost. It was a condition of her being able to live at The Establishment. It wasn’t a dementia or Alzheimer’s specialized home. But they’d let him and Caroline in. In part because of his service to his country, the owner was also a Veteran, but mostly because he’d vowed to take responsibility of his wife’s well-being and safety should she wander off.

Caroline’s private room had one picture of him in it. It was from their twenty-fifth anniversary when they’d renewed their vows. Wolf was pleased as he could be that she’d remembered it so clearly today, of all days. It had been a wonderful anniversary present, even if she didn’t know she’d given it to him. The picture on a shelf in her room was of the two of them standing by the ocean just as she’d described it to him earlier. She was in her pink dress, he was in jeans and a navy blue shirt. The sun was setting behind them and they were in each others’ arms. She’d thrown her head back to laugh at something he’d said, he couldn’t remember now what it was, and the photographer had caught the moment on film.

In the picture, Wolf was looking down at his wife, smiling huge, the love easy to see in his dark eyes. It was his all time favorite picture of the two of them and he was glad she still had that memory, even if she didn’t have any others from the last seven years or so.

They’d lived a long full life, and he was grateful.

“I’ll make sure someone is watching over her so you can go and change. We’ll meet you in the common room downstairs.”

Wolf nodded at Jessie. He and Caroline might never’ve had children, but all of his teammates’ kids had adopted them as unofficial parents. It felt nice. And today most of them were coming to celebrate his anniversary and to visit.

Abe and Alabama’s kids, Brinique, Davisa, Tommy, and Kate. Mozart and Summer’s children, April and Sam Junior. Benny and Jessyka’s brood, John, Sara, Callie, James, Matthew, and Jessie. Dude and Cheyenne’s daughter, Taylor. And of course Tex and Melody’s daughters, Akilah and Hope.

Wolf was sure they’d all bring some of their own children too. It was going to be a huge, insane party which would probably disturb most of the other residents of the home. But Wolf didn’t care. He and Caroline had made it fifty years together. Against all odds, they’d made it.

Wolf stood up and kissed the top of Jessie’s head as he did. “Thanks for being so great with my wife.”

“I love her,” was Jessie’s quick response. “You guys might not be my grandparents by blood, but I love you just the same.”

The pesky tears sprang into Wolf’s eyes again but he blinked them back. Dang he hated getting old, especially because it seemed like he couldn’t hold his emotions back as he once could. Even though he was closing in on ninety, he would always be the alpha badass he once was.

“Whatever. Go. I want to say good-bye to my wife.”

“Okay. Later,” Jessie said, then kissed his cheek again, and headed out of the library to make sure all was ready for the huge party that was going to commence in an hour.

Wolf limped back around the corner to gaze down at his wife.

Caroline was sound asleep, her mouth slightly open, her breathing deep and even. He gazed up at the framed certificate and medal above her head on the wall. This alcove was Caroline’s spot. The other residents knew it, and never sat there. Wolf had brought her favorite chair from their home as well as some other small touches from a life she no longer remembered. He wanted her to be as comfortable as possible in her new home.

He gazed at the Secretary of Defense Medal for Valor she’d been given thirty years ago. It was the highest civilian award for valor and was created after the horrific September 11th attacks so long ago. It was Dude’s daughter, Taylor, who’d asked one day if she could nominate Caroline for the honor based on her actions on the day she’d alerted Wolf and his teammates to the terrorist plot to drug the ice on the plane they’d been on. That had led to a whole lot of other horrible stuff happening to his wife, but ultimately, the terrorists had been thwarted.

Wolf had given his blessing, and with Taylor’s determination, and the help of Wolf’s former commander, Patrick Hurt, Caroline had been invited to come to Washington DC to be honored. The medal recognized private citizens who performed an act of heroism with voluntary risk to their personal safety in the face of danger.

Caroline had been embarrassed about all the hoopla, and had convinced Fiona, Cookie’s wife, to travel to Washington with them so they could go shopping afterwards.

But Wolf would never forget that day and what she’d done. After all, it was the day he first laid eyes on the woman who he loved more than life itself. He’d had her medal and certificate framed and placed on the wall in her special alcove. Caroline had never asked about it, never even acted like she knew it was there, but Wolf knew. And the kids and grandkids of his teammates would ensure it always stayed on the wall and her actions that day would never be forgotten.

Caroline shifted in the chair and Wolf picked up her favorite fuzzy blanket draped over a rack nearby and covered up his wife’s legs. He didn’t want her to take a chill.

She was still so beautiful. Yes, they were old and wrinkled now, but Wolf could still see his wife’s understated beauty shining out from her as if a light in the darkness. He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead, leaving his lips on her skin for a long moment.

He missed her. Missed his Ice. The only times he got to touch her was when he played a part, as he had today, of a concerned stranger. And even then they were only fleeting touches. But she was alive. And every day he got to take care of her. Protect her. Look at her. It was more than a lot of couples got and he wouldn’t change one minute of their time together.

“I love you, Ice,” he said softly. “Happy Anniversary. I’ll find you tomorrow by the ocean and we’ll reminisce about our twenty-fifth anniversary. We’ll hum the melody to “Come with Me” together. We’ll talk about your friends and the children who you loved as your own. Then we’ll do it all again the next day. And the next. Until the day I die, I’ll be here by your side.”

Caroline’s eyes opened without warning, and Wolf pulled back, not wanting to frighten her. And waking up with a stranger hovering over her would scare her.

“Matthew?” she asked softly.

And the pesky tears he’d managed to beat back sprung right back into his eyes at her whispered word. His wife hadn’t said his name in over two years. Two years.

“Yeah, Ice, it’s me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A small sweet smile spread across her lips and her eyes closed.

“Sleep well, my love,” Wolf told her, openly crying now, not even trying to check the tears which ran down his wrinkled face.

“I always sleep well knowing you’re watching over me,” she whispered. Then moments later her chest was moving up and down in the rhythmic motions of sleep.

The tears wouldn’t stop. He’d just witnessed a miracle. The doctors had said she’d most likely never recognize him again. She was lost in her memories.

He sat up and wiped his face with his hands and finally smiled. His wife had just given him the best present she’d ever gifted him with. On their anniversary no less.

Brushing his hand over her hair gently, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, he said softly, “I’ll always watch over you, Caroline. Until tomorrow.”

Then the old man kissed two fingers, gently touched them to the woman’s mouth, and walked out of the alcove. He moved with ease, as if he wasn’t suffering with arthritis. As if he wasn’t eighty-six, but instead a man decades younger.

Later his old Navy SEAL buddies would reminisce about that night and say that their friend looked happier and lighter than they’d seen him in years.

Years later when the alcove was redesigned and a large couch was put in the area so residents could sit and enjoy the sounds and sights of the ocean, people would look up at the medal in the frame on the wall and remember the devotion of the retired Navy SEAL who spent his last years on this planet watching over his wife.

The library was re-named the Caroline Steel Ocean Room.

And every year the people who’d witnessed Matthew “Wolf” Steel’s devotion to his wife came together and celebrated the couple’s life.

It’s said late at night, when the moon is full, that residents who live at The Establishment will sometimes look out the windows overlooking the boardwalk and see an elderly couple sitting on a bench, holding hands, laughing, as they watched the waves wash up on the beach. But when the residents turn to get a camera, or tell a friend, and look back, the couple has disappeared.