Seth Hazlitt looked at the clock one more time, before pushing back from his desk. His last patient of the day had left half an hour ago and Beverly had left shortly after. He had been making his notes in patient files for Beverly to type tomorrow morning and file until the next time they were seen. It was only two o'clock. Today was his abbreviated day to allow him to catch up on work throughout the week that he didn't have time to do otherwise.
But today was different.
Today, he needed time to go by the cemetery, before preparing to cook dinner at Jessica's tonight.
Sighing, he stretched, took off his lab coat, exchanging it for his blazer and hat. Locking up, he decided to walk to the cemetery. What he had to do demanded a bit of formality.
Walking in the direction of the old church in town with the cemetery beside it on a bluff overlooking the ocean, the wind whipped through his hair and the edges of his buttoned blazer. Somberly, he allowed himself a rare indulgence.
To think about Jessica Fletcher.
A couple of months ago when he ate that blasted apple and almost died from poison, they had a moment in the ICU. Of course, he thought he was having a bit of indigestion or something equally foolish. As a doctor, he should have known that he would not be in the ICU for something so minor as that.
Jessica was there though, and she cried when she saw him. He waved it off, uncomfortable with her display of emotion.
Why didn't he pry and find out why she was crying? What in heaven's name possessed him to wave her off and pretend all was well and that he wasn't craving her care and love for him?
But that was it. He was afraid to know. Was it love?
Or did he only remind her of prior times in the ICU with Frank at the end of his life?
He had hoped that once he recovered that they would talk about it more, but true to form, he could never seem to find the courage. And Jessica? She seemed content to leave their relationship as status quo.
He had to do something.
S/J
Jessica Fletcher woke early as she did on every anniversary of Frank's death. She tried to prepare mentally for the day every year, but no matter what she did, it never seemed to matter. It was as though her body overruled everything her brain tried to do. After lying in bed for a long time, she waited for the tears, but her body did not oblige. Oh, she rarely cried for Frank anymore. She would feel sadness and grief often, but it rarely took the form of tears. Except on this day. Always this day. Yet, the tears would take her unawares and often occur when she least expected them. Last year, it had been the moment she woke up, which is why she stayed in bed awhile this morning, allowing herself the time to get the tears out, but grief never went according to plan.
Perhaps the reason she cried every year on this day was because this was the one day of the year that she allowed herself to wallow in her memories. After the first few years, she would not allow tears on his birthday or their anniversary. Those days were days to celebrate and be happy about, not cry. But the anniversary of Frank's death? She could never celebrate that.
Sighing, she considered getting up and making coffee, but she did not want to yet. Not only did she allow herself to wallow on this day every year, but she made it a point not to work or plan anything. Some years she would organize and clean all day. Others, she would spend all day in her garden. But she never worked or planned to see anyone.
Except Seth. He always made her dinner on this night every year. He knew what today was, of course, and he always remembered without making a big deal out of it. It would be a quieter dinner than most nights, but they never talked about Frank. Not on this day. It was enough that he was there for her, and she was always grateful.
Seven years. Where had the time gone?
She thought back over the years since he died, not ready to think about Frank yet.
The first year had been horrible. So horrible, that she remembered little beyond a lot of sleepless nights, weight loss due to lack of appetite, but many hours in front of her typewriter. Dear Grady had given her a new life without realizing it when he helped her get her first book published. As they say, the rest was history. Or at least it was in regard to her professional life.
Her personal life did not change as much. As the years went by, it often was more of the same. Being a widow, she had caring friends and family who she kept in close contact with, but it was hard to not dwell on the fact that many did so out of pity and a sense of obligation. Over the years, she learned which friends and family members did not view her that way and she gravitated to them more and more.
The anniversaries of Frank's death in the years that followed were memorable only in the fact that she was alone, and she missed him terribly. His loss and the grief she lived with never went away but was less acute these days.
This year felt different though. She had been wondering during the last week why the pain was more intense this year, but the only thing she could think of was that perhaps it had to do with almost losing Seth recently.
Finding him in her kitchen unresponsive and then waiting in the ICU waiting room for word on his condition was far too reminiscent of the last days of Frank's life and it stirred all those memories up in her consciousness, leaving her scared and alone. When she was allowed to see Seth and was assured that he would be alright, the sense of relief she felt was tremendous. She could not help but cry.
He waved her tears away and was his usual cantankerous self, not letting her take care of him at all. She wanted to insist, but something held her back.
At first, she thought her emotion that day was due to the memories of Frank and how close Seth came to dying. But within a few weeks, as she processed the experience, she realized that she had fallen in love with Seth. The terror she had felt sitting in the waiting room that day was perhaps made worse by the memories of Frank, but the terror stood on its own power, as a result of the love that she felt for the man who had become her best friend since Frank had died.
The realization was overwhelming in its terror, and it became even more so as the weeks had become months, as Seth did not seem to want to talk about what had happened. However, his brush with death had made him more committed to losing weight and taking care of himself. He had started exercising again, but with a renewed sense of purpose. Already in the past couple of months, he had lost over ten pounds and although he was not dieting per say, he was careful not to overeat and eat more fruit and vegetables. Clearly, the experience had an impact on him even if he refused to discuss it.
Jessica depended on Seth in so many ways, not simply as the person who checked in on her house when she traveled or cooked her dinner when she was working on a deadline. It was not what he did for her, but who he was and how he cared for her as a woman and friend. The thought of pushing things to see if they could be more was too much. For weeks after his health scare, she had considered it, but after hinting around a few times and not having Seth respond to her attempts, she let it go.
Even so, her heart would often feel heavy when she was with him now. She knew that she could not lose him though. He was the one person in her life who was her equal, who listened to her, encouraged her, but never let her get away with anything, never failing to challenge her when she needed it. Wasn't that why their disagreement the day before he was poisoned was so painful? Stopping to smell the roses and not working all the time? Only Seth could tell her the truth in such a way that she felt her heart was pierced, but she knew he had done so out of real care and concern for her.
There was no doubt she loved him and was in love with him. But at this point, she did not know how she would ever have the courage to tell him.
S/J
Seth entered through the wooden cemetery gate. Walking down the worn gravel pathway, he crossed to the other side of the churchyard, closest to the ocean.
Seth had attended the funeral seven years ago. Most of Cabot Cove had in fact. Frank and Jessica Fletcher were pillars of the community and even though Frank was ill for a short time before he died, he was far too young to die, and it was a shock when he didn't make it.
Seth tried not to remember what Jessica had looked like that day. They had known each other since Seth moved back to Cabot Cove but it was not until Jessica was coming out of the worst of her grief and depression about a year after Frank died that they became personal friends and no longer just acquaintances.
But he would never forget what she looked like that day. He could recall it vividly in seconds and it broke his heart every time he remembered. Seeing her in a black dress suit complete with black heels and hat, Grady was right beside her the entire day, holding her arm. Seth remembered regarding the two of them several times wondering if Jessica would be able to stand in the receiving line much longer as she appeared weak and frail. She did not cry but rarely made eye contact with anyone and only spoke occasionally. Grady seemed to understand that she needed him to take the lead and Seth was never more thankful for that young man as he was that day watching him make small talk in between caring for his grieving aunt.
Seth did not really know Grady well at that time, but he was impressed with what he witnessed that day.
After the wake, Seth had found Grady before leaving and told him to give him a call if Jessica needed anything to sleep. He remembered Grady calling late that evening to take him up on his offer and slowly over the next year, Grady would ask Seth to check on his aunt and report back, helping Seth to have excuses to talk to her and over time, form a friendship.
He remembered the general area Frank was buried in but he had not been back to his grave since that day. Walking up and down a few rows, he finally found it.
He should have seen it quickly, as it was the only one around that had a rose bush just behind it. He knew Jessica had planted it several years ago and tended it regularly. There were red roses all over, their blooms fragrant and carrying in the breeze.
Seth took his hat off and stood in silence for a long while. He knew he needed to come, but damn it, he didn't know what to say or even why he needed to speak to a dead man who couldn't hear it and who certainly couldn't talk back. But he knew he did.
Staring at the headstone, he read Frank's name, seeing the date in 1983 when he died.
It wasn't fair. But then, life wasn't fair, and doesn't everyone learn that over and over again?
"Frank? Seth Hazlitt here."
Seth felt foolish, but he came here for a reason, and he would see it through.
Fiddling with his hat a bit, looking out at the water, he looked back at the grave.
"Frank, I know we did not know each other all that well. But I have become rather close over the years since you died with your wife. She is…"
He cleared his throat. Thank god, he was alone.
He inhaled and tried again.
"Frank, there is no good way to say this. But Jessica is everything to me. I have loved her for years now. We became friends not long after you died. Being a widower, I understood better than most what she was going through, and I also understood that she did not want my pity or a myriad of questions all the time about her wellbeing. Instead, I was just there for her. As a friend. But…over time, I fell in love with her. I didn't mean to. I sometimes wish I hadn't, as loving her without it being returned has been the most painful experience and has been going on for years now. But I did. Took a long time to realize it. But I did one day. We were on the boat with Caleb. It was probably about two years after you died. That day, she caught a bigger fish than me and she was so excited, as she had bet me five dollars she would. I had never heard her belly laugh until that day. I don't think she had laughed like that since you died. She made a comment later that night that she had forgotten what it was like to laugh so hard. I realized then that I had fallen in love with her, and I would make it my mission to make her laugh as much as I could from that day on…that was the best five dollars spent in my life."
He sighed. He was a man of few words, but this was taking far longer than he had anticipated. But now that he started, he knew he needed to continue and get everything out.
"I was married before. Ruth died many years ago. You knew that was why I moved back to Cabot Cove all those years ago. I loved Ruth deeply and I still grieve for her like Jessica does for you. But Frank, the love I feel for Jessica is different. It's a mature love that sounds boring when I say it like that. But it's anything but. It is more that I am at a place in my life that I know myself and I know who I am. I know how difficult I can be to be around. Jessica knows who she is as well and never have I known a woman as intelligent and strong as she is. She is kind and compassionate, but not a pushover. The confidence and poise that woman has is unlike anything I have ever seen before. I wish you could see her now, Frank. I know she has evolved into this woman today because she lost you, but I do think you would be impressed and I know you would love her still…I think you will know what I mean when I say that you and I are both of the generation when the women stayed at home and the men were in charge and had the final say. Well, the world has changed, and this is one area I am glad it has, because Jessica is my equal in a way that I can't say I have ever experienced before. It has made my life more intriguing and meaningful. Falling in love late in life after losing my first love has meant that I feel more gratitude and understanding of how fleeting life is."
Turning his hat around his hand again, he pressed on for the last bit, "A couple of months ago, I almost died. I was poisoned by an apple of all things. The thing is, I ate it when I stopped by Jessica's to get her pie pan. It was meant for her. It was terrifying when I realized later that it could have been her."
He couldn't stop the tears that formed in his eyes and he took several breaths to compose himself.
"Anyway, Jessica came to visit me in the ICU and she was crying. I was caught off guard, especially as she was the one who had to tell me that I was poisoned and almost died. I'm not good with emotions and I think with being ill and seeing her cry, I would not let myself hope that it was because she might care for me. It was far too scary, because what if I was wrong? No, sir, I couldn't live with that. I need her. Too much. I told myself she was just crying because the experience reminded her of you being in the ICU at the end. So, I do what I always do. I pushed her away and told her that I would be fine on my own and there was no need for her to cry.
Last couple of months, I focused on taking better care of myself. I have lost a little bit of weight and my blood pressure has gone down. I knew that if I had any hope of getting her attention one day, I needed to not be a walking heart attack, knowing I could lower my risk. No way would I ask her to be with me, knowing that she could lose me like she lost you. Not that it was your fault. You just had a string of bad luck…it's a terrible thing to lose a spouse and I don't want to cause her any pain…I guess what I came here to say, Frank, after I have rambled on for who knows how long, that as terrified as I am, I have to try, don't I? Not today of course, but soon. I have to know if we can be something together. She is the most important person in my life and I need to tell her. Frank, I know you can't talk…this is absurd what I am doing. I know, believe me. But I hope you will give me your blessing. Somehow. Anyway, I am sure she would prefer you were here any day. But I do hope she cares for me and that we can find a bit of happiness in whatever time we have left in this world."
Wiping his face, before putting his hat back on, he turned to leave.
Jessica was standing there, not fifteen feet away behind him, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. She had tears in her eyes and was watching him in silence.
"Jess."
He didn't need to ask what she was doing there. It was the anniversary of Frank's death. She brought flowers from her garden every year on this day, as well as a number of other times throughout the year.
"Seth."
"How much did you hear?"
"Everything…you were walking into the churchyard when I rode up on my bike. At first, I hurried trying to catch up to you, but then when I saw you walk towards his grave, I left my bike by the gate and followed behind you on foot…I walked on the grass so you wouldn't hear me…I eavesdropped…but I'm not sorry I did."
Startled, he did not know what to say. What did she mean by that?
He walked over the few feet between them, buying time.
Standing within arm's reach, he reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. Clasping it firmly, he said, "I meant every word. I love you, Jess…I know you may not feel the same, but…"
"I love you, Seth," she whispered, as a tear fell down her cheek.
His voice broke as he said, "You have no idea how much and how long I have wanted to hear you say that."
"Perhaps. But I have wanted to hear you say it since at least you were in the ICU. It took me until then to know how I felt, but I do believe I have loved you for much longer than that."
"As long as you love me now, that's all that matters."
He wanted to kiss her and take her in his arms and whisper tender words of love and affection in her ear, but she was here for a purpose. And a solemn one at that.
Squeezing her hand, he said, "Jess, I'll leave you to talk to Frank and I'll walk back home. I'll be at your house by six to make dinner. We can talk more tonight. Alright?"
Nodding, she agreed, but before he could walk away, she leaned forward, placing a soft but firm kiss on his lips. Pulling away only a few inches, still sharing the same oxygen, she whispered as she looked into his hazel eyes, "Seth, you are the most honorable and loving man I know. Thank you for wanting to tell Frank how you feel about me. I love you and I will see you at home soon."
Smiling, fully aware that she said she would see him at home, as though he belonged there as well, he squeezed her hand one last time, before letting go.
Walking towards the gate, he did not look back until he reached the gate. Jessica was kneeling in front of Frank's headstone, having placed the bouquet of flowers at the base. He knew she would clear the few weeds around the grave and the others nearby and talk to him a bit before she headed home.
Home.
He would see her there.
