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Tom looked at the mound of earth in front of him, swallowing hard as he forced the tears to remain at bay. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Women outlived men, and you were younger than him, he was supposed to go first. He had always prepared for that, planning how to help you through the years without him, but that had not been what happened. You began to feel off, you would look at him, slightly confused for a few moments before you recognised him in the mornings. Everyone had assumed that it was the onset of memory deterioration, but when the headaches started, that was when your children and Tom insisted that you needed further tests. Cancer, in the brain, inoperable. It was not an “if” it was a “when”. You refused to even listen to ideas of chemo or radiotherapy. It was not your style, you wanted to go out without being sick for who knows how long beforehand, it would only guarantee another few months if anything. Tom fought it, of course. To him it was giving up, leaving him. But he had seen his father fight the disease, and his sister, though she survived, but he watched, as she became so ill she could not even be accused of being the same girl that used to annoy him as a youngster, stealing his CDs, her hair never really being what it was before or anything. He accepted it and insisted that you enjoy your last few weeks together. But death took you too fast. The diagnosis of three months happened on the Tuesday, but Saturday, you slipped into a sleep from which you did not wake.
Now Tom sat in the same room you had told him you were pregnant in, after two years of trying, the test finally gave an answer you both wanted. It was the room that you were sure you conceived all three of your children in, born of love and lust for one another, the one that you kept them beside your bed for the first three months of their lives in. The one that when there were terrible rumours that Tom was being unfaithful to you, you both cried at how people could be so cruel as to say such things, Tom begging you to believe him, you begging that it was not true, time gave its answer and you moved past the lies, but it was difficult regardless. The same room where you used to brush your hair and groan about the tolls of being the wife of a multi-award winning actor turned director, the same one where he lay you out for the night before you were brought away in the box, never to return.
‘Dad?’ He turned to see his son, the oldest, who had sadly inherited his high hairline, he only truly noticed then that he had gone grey, when had that happened. ‘Dad, James and I were talking, we need to discuss something with you.’
Tom looked at his son knowingly, ‘No, we said no homes.’ he stated adamantly.
‘Dad, Mum isn’t here anymore, you cannot stay in this house by yourself.’ William argued.
‘Your Mother and I bought this when we got married, we wanted to keep it until the end, we discussed this.’
‘Dad, you can barely even get up the stairs anymore.’
‘Why do you think we converted the old drawing room?’ Tom smiled, tapping the side of his head with one finger. ‘We planned this when you all went your own ways, we have been planning everything.’
‘You mean Mum planned.’ William challenged.
Tom chuckled to himself, it was true, you were a stickler for planning things to the nth degree. ‘We wanted this to be everything to us, I am not dead yet, so I am staying here.’ He stated firmly.
‘Okay Dad, but Mum wouldn’t want you to be lonely.’
‘I am not lonely.’ Tom stated before looking at the picture by the bed, the one of you dancing together on your wedding day, the love for one another blatant in your eyes.
William said nothing more and went to tell his brother and sister that he had had no luck convincing their father to consider other options. All three terrified as to what would become of their father without their mother by his side. They knew he was nothing without you, you were the only one to truly know how to deal with him and his stubbornness.
*
As it stood, it did not take long before Tom’s loss began to take a toll on him. He began to talk to you as though you were still there. When the nurse only fixed one meal or cup of tea, he began to get upset and bothered, before long, he could not be convinced that you were gone, that you had passed, even when Emily brought him to your grave, her father would not listen to her. For as much as his mind left him, he would refuse point blank to any consideration of being brought to a care home, adamant to remain in the house that was for so many years, your home. Emily, James and William were so busy with their own families, none of the three could give their father the care he required themselves, all three feeling guilty that they could not, but he was the first to remind them of what you both told them time and again as you aged, that it was not their place to tend to you, parents should not expect their children to give up their careers and own families to do that, they did not “owe you” for having them, he reminded them that the time was close approaching that they too would be grandparents, William’s daughter had gotten married and was already planning a family. She told her grandfather, who doted on her something terrible since the day he first held her in the hospital when she was born, how she and Raj, her husband, were looking at houses in the area. She was the one to placate him the most regarding her grandmother, acting as though she was there, and as a result, was able to have him more lucid than everyone else, who he seemed less inclined to talk to.
‘Lindsey?’
‘Yeah, Granddad?’
‘Get me your grandmother’s favourite tie.’
‘Nan never wore ties.’ She joked.
‘Don’t be a pup, get me the tie, and that shirt she likes so much.’
‘Going somewhere fancy?’
‘We are going out to dinner,’ he declared.
Looking at him sadly, Lindsey did as requested and got the shirt and tie she knew that her grandmother adored on him. ‘Need a hand?’
‘Not at all, I am not dead yet.’ He dismissed, starting to ready himself.
It took an hour, but in the end, he was changed, his hair (what little remained) brushed neatly and his cologne on. Slowly, he made his way towards the living room of the house, trundling the journey.
‘You okay, granddad? You’re looking well.’
‘Will your nan be happy?’
‘Sure, granddad, she’ll love it.’
‘Good, it wouldn’t do to turn up to dinner any other way.’
‘Where will you go for it?’
‘Rome.’ He smiled fondly, his blue eyes watery as he thought about it. ‘There was this restaurant by the Trevi fountain, long gone now, but it was there I asked her if she saw herself with me for the rest of our lives.’ Lindsey frowned. ‘I didn’t propose there, but I wanted to see if she felt the same, she did. There will be a nice spot, I think.’
Lindsey swallowed as she came to the conclusion that her grandfather had completely lost himself. ‘Okay, granddad.’
‘I’ll take a bit of a nap first, I am awful tired from getting ready.’ He declared. ‘You look after yourself, himself and the little one, won’t you?’
Lindsey’s eyes were filled with large tears as she felt herself being forced to accept her grandfather was no longer as he was. ‘Sure granddad, but, what little one?’
‘That one.’ He pointed to her. ‘She’ll be as beautiful as you and your grandmother, wait and see.’ He smiled fondly. ‘I left everything ready for you, you need only look in the study.’
‘Granddad?’ Lindsey shook her head, the tears falling. ‘What are talking about?’
‘I’m awfully tired, I need a good rest.’ Tom got comfortable in his chair.
‘Okay granddad, get some sleep.’ Lindsey cried, watching him, completely unable to deal with her grandfather being so scattered.
‘Right so.’ He nodded, dozing off in his chair.
Lindsey waited until he was asleep before leaving the room and ringing her husband, then her dad about Tom, worried about him. When she went back in, she realised he was very quiet. ‘Granddad?’ She shook him gently before her eyes widened. ‘Granddad?’ This time her voice was louder, but no reaction. Taking out her phone again, she rang an ambulance.
*
Tom walked forward towards the restaurant, the streets were a din with couples enjoying the warm Mediterranean heat as they walked through the streets of the ancient city. ‘I am sorry, is this seat taken?’ Tom asked, holding a chair.
‘You took long enough.’
‘Two years.’ He nodded as he sat down.
‘Two years. You could have lasted longer.’
‘I was so lonely without my beautiful wife.’ He smiled, extending his hand to take yours, both of you looking as you had on your wedding day. ‘I needed to be with you again.’
‘You took care of everything?’
‘I did.’ He confirmed.
‘Good.’ You gave a small content nod.
‘I did not think the afterlife was Rome.’ He chuckled, looking around.
‘When we are told about heaven, we all see it differently, what is paradise to one, is not paradise to another, so to us all, it is where we are happiest.’ You explained. ‘For us, it will be here or at the house, with our children, or before.’
‘You naughty minx.’ He stood and pulled you to your feet before placing his hand behind your back, slowly dancing with you to music that was not being played. ‘Is this really happening? Are we really together again?’ Going on your tiptoes, you lean forward and kiss him gently on his lips, an action he quickly reciprocates. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We watch as our great-granddaughter comes to be, in the house that we raised our family in.’ You smile. ‘All the time, we get to be together again, with everyone who went before us, who we missed for so long, for the rest of time, and when the time comes, we will be with our children again, but not yet.’
‘That truly does sound like heaven. We did well with them.’
‘I did, didn't I?’ You smile back playfully, causing him to chuckle, still dancing.