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Joe West had his hands on his hips, staring at the cluttered attic of his family home. Two bright, adventurous children with full lives had left him with a storage area full of memories. Organizing it had always been one of those things he said he’d get around to eventually and eventually just never came around.
He sighed. Time to call in reinforcements. Walking back down the stairs, he hit speed dial three on his phone.
“Hello?”
“Barry, I need your help with something at the house.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I just could use your efficiency.” Joe swore he could hear Barry’s grin through the phone.
“Be right there!”
A minute later (probably less but who was counting), Barry walked in the door in plainclothes.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Joe crossed his arms, only a trifle defensively.
“Do you remember at dinner Sunday night, when Iris asked me to pull out all the Christmas decorations?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I didn’t get to it. And they’re buried in the attic. And Iris is coming home from work in an hour.”
“Joe,” Barry starts, and if Joe didn’t know the kid so well, he’d swear Barry was actually affronted, “are you asking me to use my super-speed to clean the attic?”
Joe sighed, “Yes.”
“Ok, cool. Be right back.” Barry grinned and was gone in a gust of wind; Joe heard various bumps, clanks, and thuds from overhead. Boxes neatly labeled ‘Christmas’ in Iris’ writing started appearing in the living room.
Then the movement and noise ceased. Barry walked into the living room, frowning down at something in his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.
Barry looked downright apologetic, “I found this, in the attic. Is it what I think it is?” He held out a fine gold chain with a ring on it, and Joe felt the familiar vise of grief grip his heart.
“Marisa’s-Iris’ mother’s- wedding ring,” Joe took the ring from Barry, “I was going to give it to Iris, but I put it away until she was older, and it was just-.” He stopped, looking down at the ring in his palm.
Barry put his hand on Joe’s forearm, “You could give it to her now.”
Joe looked at Barry, seeing nothing but the younger man’s compassion and love for Joe and Iris both. Barry knew exactly what it was like to have only memories and keepsakes of a mother.
He held the ring out to Barry, “I want you to give it to her.”
Barry visibly startled, “Me? But,”
Joe smiled, knowing pretty much exactly where Barry’s mind had gone at being asked to hand Iris a wedding ring, “You found it. You should give it to her.”
“Uh, ah, OK. I guess.” Barry took the ring from Joe’s hand, cradling it in his own palm, “but I’m saying it’s from both of us.”
“Fair enough.” Joe chuckled, “Now, is the attic done?”
“Yeah, all the Christmas stuff is downstairs, and I even organized everything else up there so it’d be easy to put things away where we can get to them next year.” He paused, and mock-shuddered, “Lots of spiders.”
Joe laughed again, the pain of Marisa’s loss receding as it always did in the presence of one or both of his kids, “Well, for your five minutes of hard work, I can probably spring for a pizza.”
Barry grinned back at him, “Get two. One just for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
-
Iris found them seated at the table when she walked into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face, brightening more when she saw Barry, “Dad, how did you get all that stuff out of the attic so fast? And, Barry, you didn’t tell me you were coming for dinner.” She plopped down in a chair, leaning over to hug Barry quickly before she grabbed a piece of pizza.
Joe smiled at her, “Barry helped.”
“Is that why he’s eating a whole pizza?”
“Hey! He is right here.” Barry dropped an anchovy on her plate, a guaranteed way to make her shriek in indignation.
Joe just sat back and let the chatter of his kids wash over him, content.