The sun began its ascent across the sky but even before the stars could vanish from view, Monty was beginning his daily routine. While he tried to sleep for as long as he possibly could it was in vain. He could never bring himself to sleep on the other side of his bed that'd been left empty for so long. Taking great care to fold the blankets for a person that would never occupy them again had more of an emotional toll than he could bear. And with a heavy heart, he rose every morning before dawn and wandered the halls of their home.
Straightening pictures that were never crooked and avoiding mirrors. The redness rimmed around his eyes would fade, he told himself, brewing a pot of coffee. His nose turned up at the tar-like smell though he took out a mug and set it beside the coffee machine. A few bags of his favorite camomille tea going untouched though he takes one down and listens to the machine's clicks and hisses as the water boils. Runs his fingers over the crushed leaves inside of the bag and remembers a voice, softer than satin and sweet as can be, reminding him that he needed to sleep.
Pressing his lips to the top of the bag and letting the memories wash over him, Monty forgets time even exists until the coffee machine beeps signaling the end of the pot's brewing. He blinks slowly and returns the bag to where the others are and hesitates before closing the cabinet. The machine and the mug are left untouched as he shuffles towards the door and slips on his shoes, heading outside into the brisk early morning air. It slips into the thin fabric of his pajamas and chills him from the inside out. The sky slowly gains a bluish hue as he waters the plants, and tends to the garden.
Flowers of varying color and size greeting him with blooming petals. He talks to them in a low voice, sinking down to a knee and watering them while gently running his fingers along the underside of the petals.
"Addy will be happy to see you're doing well," he says to the wisterias, a faint smile on his face as he turns to the zinnia and waters them as well. "You're doing well, aren't you? You're quite beautiful."
The flowers do not answer but the birdsong does and he tilts his head back, listening to the sounds of nature and the awakening city. Cars rolling up and down the street in front of their home and the distant sound of dogs barking. Slowly rising to his feet, he sighs and heads back inside after setting the watering can down on the outdoor patio. His fingers running across the table, a thin layer of dust smeared across his fingertips.
"I'll have to clean up out here," he mumbles, slipping his shoes off as he padded into the kitchen. "Wouldn't do for Addy to come back to a dirty home."
His heart sinks for a spell and he quickly turns on the morning news, letting the noise fill the house and the gaps in his thoughts as he goes to grab the morning paper off the stoop. A quick glance down either side of his street and he spies a young girl on her bike riding past, waving to him with a wide smile devoid of a few teeth in the middle of her upper row.
"Morning, Mister Monty!"
He smiles and raises a hand, "Good Morning, Meredith!"
"I told you, Mister Monty, you can call me Merry," She grumbles, slowing her bike to a stop. "Is Miss Addy back yet?"
Monty held his breath and shook his head, mumbling, "No, not yet."
"Oh. Do you need any help?"
A quick refusal is on his tongue but Monty swallows it. Memories of a wagging finger and a chiding voice reminding him that he needed to take help when it was given assuaging his pride. He held the newspaper gingerly and glanced towards the garbage cans that had to be taken to the curb. Meredith followed his gaze and smiled widely, climbing off her bike and jogging over.
"You want me to help with your trash?"
Monty smiles a little at her enthusiasm and nods. "Please?"
She huffs and beats a fist against her chest then grabs hold of the trash can's handles and begins to wheel them to the curb.
"Just leave it to me," she calls over her shoulder.
Monty opens his mouth then shuts it, shaking his head. There's something familiar and heart-warming seeing someone so young so happy to help an old man. While he knew it was bad form, he couldn't help but wish that Addy was here right now. She would have done something childish though. A small smile curves his lips as he imagines his wife preparing to race from the front steps to the curb with Meredith. Addy had always been fond of the little girl from the moment she was born, insisting upon helping out with babysitting and giving her what she needed.
It was to the point where she was offered a position as her god-grandmother, something that made her cry for weeks on end. Meredith's mother, overworked and underpaid, accepted the help graciously and Addy hadn't even asked for anything in return.
My Addy has always been kind.
"Mister Monty?"
Meredith tilted her head, staring up at Monty with wonder as he focused and smiled at her sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, dear, what were you saying?"
"I have to go to school now, but my mom wanted me to tell you that if you needed anything that we live just down the street."
Monty blinked owlishly then slowly nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you, Meredith."
"Merry," she corrected sharply.
Monty chuckled nervously and nodded, "Right. Right. Merry."
Satisfied, Meredith waved to him and hurried back to her bike, hiking up the bookbag slumping down her shoulders.
"Tell Miss Addy that I can't wait to see her!" She called, pedaling down the street and out of sight. "And I hope she gets better soon!"
"I will!"
Once she was gone, Monty sighed and shuffled inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He held the newspaper tightly in his hands and pressed it close to his chest. The morning sunlight was beginning to filter through the drawn curtains and he could barely see the print on the paper but he knew what it would entail.
"Another day without you," he muttered, his voice seeming small and faint in a house that was much bigger than he was. "I don't know how you could do it before, Addy."
Laying the newspaper on the table beside the door, he pressed the button on the answering machine to replay their voice mail while he went upstairs to dress. The noise carried upstairs, a shuffling on the other end of the receiver that gave way to a familiar voice. It was high-pitched, almost reedy but kind and quick. He smiled softly and kept moving, busying himself with dressing as he listened.
"Hey dad! It's Emma here, I hope you're doing alright. I came to check on you yesterday but your neighbor said that you went to the hospital earlier that morning," the cheery voice on the recording quiets a tad as someone's voice overlaps in the background asking if Monty had picked up to which Emma replied with a no. A chorus of 'aws' came and she shushed them before speaking again. "The kids are really looking forward to seeing their grandpa, so call me back when you get this, okay?"
Monty sighed through his nose and shrugged on his shirt, buttoning slowly. It wasn't as if he didn't want to see his grandchildren but there were far more pressing matters to attend to. Addy's face came to mind, her wagging finger and insistence that he go and have fun. He looked between the ties that he had laid out on the left side of their bed and decided on one with blue and green stripes, looping it around his neck and tying.
How could he leave her there by herself and just go have fun?
It made no sense. However, nothing that Addy did made much sense. She was just that sort of person he. His thoughts drifted off and the sound of the morning news and the answering machine playing the next message filled the lull.
"Dad?" A quiet brittle voice said, wobbly on the other end of the receiver. "I went to see mom early yesterday, before ah.. before you came."
Monty's head jerked up and he glanced over his shoulder, shuffling out of the room and peering down the staircase at the answering machine. Its red light glowing and dimming as the voice on the other end paused. He walked down the steps slowly.
"It's Ruth, by the way, I uhm.. I wanted to talk to you about.. about what comes next."
Walking down the staircase, Monty sighed and held onto the banister trying to keep his feet under him. His knees ached and with every glance in the mirror, he could see the toll that time had taken on him. The lines around his eyes and the shadows in his cheeks were much different than the boy he'd once been. He sighs and presses his hand to his face, rubbing his fingers along the length of his nose.
"Dad, I know you don't want to talk about it but we have to keep mom's best interest at heart. If something happened to her and you weren't ready, well.. I don't think you'll ever really be ready but.."
A sigh echoes over the receiver and Monty mirrors it with one of his own as he reaches the final step. He glances down at his pants, his shoes and then his hands.
"We both know what's going to happen, dad, and I just want you to know that I'm here in case you need anything."
He squeezes his eyes shut as the message ends and bows his head, heading to the kitchen and turning off the television. Running his fingers over the still warm pot before heading to the front door, grabbing his hat off the hook and placing it upon his head. His keys and phone from the bowl on the side table are stuffed into his pocket and he leaves without another word.
"I love you, dad."
The walk down the street is harsher than any that he'd taken before. Head bowed, he recalls Emma and Ruth's words, thinks of Nolan and where on earth Blake could be. Tilting his head back to the sky and sighing heavily as the thoughts seem to overwhelm and encompass. All he wanted was to do right by his family, to do right by his wife.
Was he even failing at that?
Head bowed, he ended the florist's shop at the corner of Amaranth and Potts and smiled faintly as the young man behind the counter greeted him.
"Here to pick up your usual order, Mister Williams?"
Removing his hand, Monty gave him a weary smile as he approached, "You can call me Monty, son."
The young man smiled and nodded.
"Of course, Mister -- ah, I mean.. Monty. Now then, here's your order," he says as he turns to pick up a bouquet of colorful flowers and holding them out to Monty as he approaches the front desk.
"What are these?"
"Freesia, Lilacs, and Lilies," the florist explained. "These are supposed to help someone when they're sick, brightens up their day and hopefully help them get better."
Monty nodded, cradling them close to his chest with a soft thanks. He ruffled in his pocket for money but the florist stopped him with a wave of the hand.
"Please, just. You can pay next time you come."
Monty quirked a smile, "You said that last time."
"And I meant it. So please."
With a soft sigh, Monty nodded and slowly backed away with a thanks then turned and placed his hat on his head as he left. He cradled the flowers to his chest, nodding and giving those who passed his way a curt nod or a little smile. He glanced down at the flowers and turned them over in his grasp. They did look like something his wife would enjoy. Soft-colored flowers, bright enough that it would be appealing to her eye but also soft enough that it might make her smile.
His Addy was nothing if not a person of habit. She'd appreciate the myriad of colors just as she did with the garden she planted. Or the mug she always used. Monty's smile wavered and he clutched the flowers tighter, crinkling the paper.
She'd be able to use those things again. To do those things again. He swallowed down his fears and told himself that over and over.
Maybe one day, I'll believe it.
His cellphone buzzed in his pocket and he reached in to pull it out, startling at the hospital's number on the screen.
"..Hello?"
"Mister Williams?" Julie's voice came from the other side, soft and wary like she was speaking to an animal that would spook any second. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Julie. Is something wrong?"
It was quiet on the other end. A pregnant pause that had Monty's heart freefalling into the pit of his stomach.
"There's been an incident with Mrs. Williams."
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