Three Months On
The clerk's words surprised John, and he sighed, not wanting her to be upset . . . Making his voice as steady as possible, he kindly said, "Sherlock died three months ago – you must have been mistaken."
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A.N. This is based on something that actually happened . . . another note at the end.
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John Watson's parents would occasionally buy 'Chinese Food' from a small walk-up shop – always four cartons – the same food – chicken chow mein with separate pan fried noodles, chicken fried rice, and sweet and sour chicken. Same four items every time. It wasn't until he was in the army that a group of the new recruits, himself included, went to a proper Chinese restaurant, and he actually saw a menu with all the varieties available. Since then he had been eating his way through Asian specialties, although – until he met Sherlock Holmes – John tended to avoid eating the hot, heavily spiced fare.
Sherlock took him to his favorite – often 'hole-in-the-wall' restaurants – spoke to the proprietors in flawless Chinese of whatever dialect – and introduced his flat mate, eventually lover – to such delicacies that John found himself craving the spicy 'heat' whether in the food itself or on the lips of his obsessive love. (He was careful to pick out the little red peppers however, unlike a certain consulting detective; his digestive system couldn't handle the spice.)
When Sherlock died, John's eating habits regressed to those of his childhood – bland milk-based fare, same vegetables, same meat – day after day – until one day he happened by chance to be walking past a small Chinese restaurant where he, and Sherlock would both 'eat in' and get 'take out'. John hadn't gone by there, particularly on purpose – in fact he was mildly surprised to find himself in front of the business. A scent of spices assailed his nose, bringing forth unbidden memories of sudden sweetness . . .
John had a sudden urge to enter, and surrendered. The usual clerk was behind the counter – a young woman who Sherlock had deduced was 'in an unhappy marriage, but was able to 'escape each day' by working in her family's shop'. They had become 'good customers' and occasionally spoke familiarly with her, she always smiled at their obvious partnership. John expected her to comment about their lack of business – what she said however, staggered him, and he barely was able to keep his composure. (Actually thinking about it later – John doubted that he did.)
"Mr. John," she said, obviously glad to see him. "I have not seen you for months." (Yes, that is very true, thought John. What do I say about Sherlock?) "Mr. Sherlock has said that you have been busy." (Oh love, how I wish that you could go out for 'Chinese' . . .) And she looked at John expecting him to say something . . .
John gathered his courage – weak and shattered as it was – and spoke, trying to be steady and kind. (She thinks that she saw Sherlock . . .) Using his best 'doctor voice' – I can do this – he explained that Sherlock had died – had fallen off a building . . . three months ago . . . (She was stunned at the news; still believed that she had seen Sherlock not that long ago.) "Mr. John, are you sure of this?" He nodded, looking at the shocked expression on her face.
"Um . . . I came in to order food." They needed to re-establish 'customer relations' – staring in shock at each other was not good. He ordered his favorites, some that he had in common with Sherlock – others that were spicy in an ethnically different way – John loved the taste of lamb – a holdover from his youth. The clerk brought the food from the back room, and packed it in a bag which John placed in a folded shopping bag which he had in his pocket.
Saying good-bye to the clerk, he decided that he would continue to buy food from this restaurant; it was a memory of Sherlock that was good. The food was as enjoyable as he remembered it; he, even on occasion, ate a meal in their dining area – though usually he would order 'take-out' as he was coming from work – he even took Mary to the place for a couple of meals . . . until one day while eating 'take-out', he decided to ask for her hand in marriage . . .
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Additional A.N. - The clerk insisted that she had seen my husband – I explained that he had passed away months before – she thought she'd seen a 'ghost', and I wish she had . . . perhaps I shall see him again . . .
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