As Jesse knelt by Winnie's grave, he couldn't help but cry. "If only I'd
come sooner, maybe she'd still be here," He sobbed. Jesse heard a twig
snap behind him. He snapped around, and saw through his tears a hunched
over old man, carrying a bouquet of daisies.
"These were Winnie's favorite," the old man murmured, holding the flowers up. "I come by once a week, to put fresh flowers out. Jesse looked around confused. After all, the clearing was blooming with flowers. "I know, she has flowers, but they're not daisies. I always bring daisies, no matter what time of year it is. By the way, I'm Frederick Jackson."
"Winnie's husband," Jesse whispered, fresh tears starting in his eyes.
The old man nodded. "I didn't happen to catch your name, young man, nor ask what you're doing here."
"My name is Jesse Tuck. Winnie is.was.a friend," Jesse faltered.
"Seems to me the name Tuck is awfully familiar. Oh yes," The old man remembered suddenly. "Winnie's first beau." He chuckled. "She told me most everything about him. Wouldn't happen to be related to him, would you?" Jesse nodded. "A great grandson?"
"Something like that," Jesse nodded, smiling for the first time.
"Why don't you come back to the house with me. I want to show you something."
**************************************************************************** **********
Frederick opened the front door of the house, and stepped inside, holding the door for Jesse. The years had changed the house. It was no longer the dark formal thing it had once been, but was now decorated in bright colors, with pictures everywhere. Jesse followed pictures of Winnie, watching as she aged. Here was a picture of her at eighteen, then on her wedding day, at thirty, forty, surrounded by children, at sixty, smothered with grandchildren, at eighty, ninety, on her hundredth birthday.
"Winnie decorated the house, just the way she liked it," Frederick remarked. "I couldn't bear to change it after.No one wanted me to, anyway." Jesse nodded numbly. He couldn't believe that his beautiful Winnie had turned into the old woman he saw in the pictures on the wall. And yet.there was something in those big blue eyes, which made him remember the wonderful summer they had spent together. Frederick was leafing through a pile of drawings. "She took a few drawing lessons, so she could draw Jesse just the way she remembered him, she said. Wanted me to give this to whoever came back." Frederick handed him a pencil drawing.
Jesse looked at it in awe. Staring up from the page was a family portrait of kinds. Winnie's face was in the middle, surrounded by Jesse, Mae, Tuck, her parents, Frederick, Miles, even the man in the yellow suit. Once again tears filled his eyes. But this time, they helped, rather than hindered him. As he looked at the portrait through blurred vision, he thought he saw writing in the vines surrounding the faces. Glancing closer, he saw that he was right.
'Jesse,' the message read, 'I will always love you. However, as years have passed, and I have heard nothing from you, I must go on with my life. Frederick is a good man, who reminds me of you, quite a bit. Don't worry. I've lived my life, and I'm not sorry. Winnie.
Frederick smiled, "Always said I reminded her of her first love." He sighed. "I just wish we'd had more time together. Eighty years wasn't nearly enough. I always felt like she was holding back on something." He escorted Jesse to the door. "Come back soon, young man. I liked talking to you."
"Oh Winnie," Jesse thought as he rode away on his motorcycle. "Why didn't you just drink the water?"
"These were Winnie's favorite," the old man murmured, holding the flowers up. "I come by once a week, to put fresh flowers out. Jesse looked around confused. After all, the clearing was blooming with flowers. "I know, she has flowers, but they're not daisies. I always bring daisies, no matter what time of year it is. By the way, I'm Frederick Jackson."
"Winnie's husband," Jesse whispered, fresh tears starting in his eyes.
The old man nodded. "I didn't happen to catch your name, young man, nor ask what you're doing here."
"My name is Jesse Tuck. Winnie is.was.a friend," Jesse faltered.
"Seems to me the name Tuck is awfully familiar. Oh yes," The old man remembered suddenly. "Winnie's first beau." He chuckled. "She told me most everything about him. Wouldn't happen to be related to him, would you?" Jesse nodded. "A great grandson?"
"Something like that," Jesse nodded, smiling for the first time.
"Why don't you come back to the house with me. I want to show you something."
**************************************************************************** **********
Frederick opened the front door of the house, and stepped inside, holding the door for Jesse. The years had changed the house. It was no longer the dark formal thing it had once been, but was now decorated in bright colors, with pictures everywhere. Jesse followed pictures of Winnie, watching as she aged. Here was a picture of her at eighteen, then on her wedding day, at thirty, forty, surrounded by children, at sixty, smothered with grandchildren, at eighty, ninety, on her hundredth birthday.
"Winnie decorated the house, just the way she liked it," Frederick remarked. "I couldn't bear to change it after.No one wanted me to, anyway." Jesse nodded numbly. He couldn't believe that his beautiful Winnie had turned into the old woman he saw in the pictures on the wall. And yet.there was something in those big blue eyes, which made him remember the wonderful summer they had spent together. Frederick was leafing through a pile of drawings. "She took a few drawing lessons, so she could draw Jesse just the way she remembered him, she said. Wanted me to give this to whoever came back." Frederick handed him a pencil drawing.
Jesse looked at it in awe. Staring up from the page was a family portrait of kinds. Winnie's face was in the middle, surrounded by Jesse, Mae, Tuck, her parents, Frederick, Miles, even the man in the yellow suit. Once again tears filled his eyes. But this time, they helped, rather than hindered him. As he looked at the portrait through blurred vision, he thought he saw writing in the vines surrounding the faces. Glancing closer, he saw that he was right.
'Jesse,' the message read, 'I will always love you. However, as years have passed, and I have heard nothing from you, I must go on with my life. Frederick is a good man, who reminds me of you, quite a bit. Don't worry. I've lived my life, and I'm not sorry. Winnie.
Frederick smiled, "Always said I reminded her of her first love." He sighed. "I just wish we'd had more time together. Eighty years wasn't nearly enough. I always felt like she was holding back on something." He escorted Jesse to the door. "Come back soon, young man. I liked talking to you."
"Oh Winnie," Jesse thought as he rode away on his motorcycle. "Why didn't you just drink the water?"