I would grant his final wish.
***
The wedding took place three days later, right there in Thomas’s hospital room.
A nurse stood as our witness, and so did a quiet man in a gray suit who introduced himself as Walter, Thomas’s attorney.
I thought it was a little odd to have a lawyer at a bedside wedding. But my high school sweetheart squeezed my hand, and I let the thought go.
His eyes shone when he said his vows. Mine did too.
I thought it was a little odd.
***
After the small ceremony, Walter pulled a folder from his briefcase and set it on the rolling tray table.
“Just a few papers, Nancy,” he said kindly. “Standard things. Take your time.”
I didn’t take my time. I signed each one right where he pointed, trusting Thomas the way you trust the sun to come up.
***
That evening, my phone rang. Raymond again.
“Have you lost your mind?!” he snapped when I told him about the marriage. “Marrying a dying man you barely know?!”
“Take your time.”
“I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you,” I said quietly.
“Nancy, listen to me. You’re being manipulated. Some stranger sees an old nurse with a pension and dangles a sob story, and you fall for it? Annul it! Today!”
“No, I won’t.”
“You foolish woman! You don’t understand what you’re doing!”
I hung up.
“You’re being manipulated.”
***
A month later, Thomas was gone.
He passed in the early morning, peaceful, with my hand in his. The grief hit me harder than I expected, considering we’d only had a handful of weeks. But sometimes a handful of weeks can hold almost six decades within them.
The funeral was small. I stood by the grave and let myself cry.
Raymond showed up, of course.
He waited until the others had drifted toward their cars before he approached.
Thomas was gone.
“You know I’m your only living relative,” he said, adjusting his tie. “Family should handle family. Foolish old women shouldn’t sign papers they don’t understand, Nancy.”
“I understood every word Thomas said to me.”
He gave me a thin smile. “I helped Aunt Margaret with everything at the end. Everything. She was grateful.”
Something cold moved through me. I remembered how Thomas’s jaw had tightened whenever Raymond’s name came up.
“Family should handle family.”
“I need to go home, Raymond.”
“We’ll talk soon,” he said. “About your affairs.”
