Jessica's Will

The sky was bruised with rain clouds. Thunder rolled in the distance. The day was going to be as dreary as the weather, so it seemed. A sigh escaped Matthew Howe's lips. He had been dreading this day, and he was wishing he could go back to bed. But, no. It had been five days since his childhood friend, Jessica Rutherford was laid in the ground. She had died in an automobile accident. He had gone to that miserable wake, and the funeral. He couldn't stand this. The executor of the will cleared his throat. "Dear friends and family," he began, "I, Jessica Lenora Rutherford, being of sound body and mind, leave my earthly possessions to the following persons..." And he read off the list, painfully slow. There was Jessica's niece, her cousin Bess, and Claudia, Jessica's best friend. Even now, in this time of mourning, she glared at him. Oh, how he hated her! Claudia held him responsible for Jessica's death. He was driving. Many times before he had tried to explain that it wasn't his fault. The road was icy and he lost control; ran into the ditch and hit a tree. Claudia had never liked him much anyway. "Bess Rutherford, I leave you half my fortune and my estate..." How long was this old geezer going to ramble? Ugh! He only needed yo go back to bed. "Claudia Strausser, you have been like a sister to me. You receive the remaining half of my fortune and the china." If it goes on much longer, I'm leaving, concluded Matthew. "Lastly, Matthew Louis Howe," Matthew froze. What could she have possibly left for him? "You've been more than a friend, but less than a lover. You've hurt me and healed me. I've loved you and hated you, all in the same moment and never forgot you. There is a key that the executor will give you. It opens a box in my room. There's something in it for you." The heirs stared blankly at him. Then, one by one, they left. "Here you go," said the executor, tossing the little golden key on a burgundy ribbon to a stunned Matthew. He held it, turning it over in his hands, puzzled. Gingerly, he mounted the stairs to Jessica's room1

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The room was deathly cold (no pun intended). A light covering of dust seemed to be about the place. Jessica wouldn't like that, Matt thought. Rain dribbled on outside, the house shook a little with a thunder clash. At last, he saw it. The box. He gently placed the key in the keyhole, turning it with the utmost care. Inside was a picture of them in their teens. It was late summer, and it was the annual village picnic. He remembered it now. The photo was black and white, but he could see the sky-blue dress, with a ribbon in her hair. He had given her that ribbon. "I thought it went with your hair nicely." He had said. Her wavy auburn hair, soft. Suddenly blinking away a tear, he set the picture aside. That was six years ago. No need to cry about the past. There was one last thing in the box that had lain under the picture. A folded piece of paper, yellowed with age. Unfolding it, he read to himself.3

September 10, 1868 4

Dear Matt,5

Maybe this note won't have to be read. Maybe, one day I'll tell you. But, that wouldn't be right. I've never told anyone how I feel. Women's emotions are such petty things. I should think anyone would take the time to listen. I could tell Claudia, but, she's such a gossiper. You can't hear me, and this note won't be read aloud, so I'll say it. I love you, Matt. I've always loved you. 6

His hands trembled. He had loved her, too. The only reason why he hadn't said anything was so, if she did not feel the same, the friendship would not be ruined. But now, he desperately wished he had. He read on.7

Our friendship means something to me, so, I shan't risk it by telling you my silly, feminine ambitions. I must be going now. I wish to see you on Wednesday! The picnic will be so much fun!8

Love always,9

Jessica10

Now he was really shaking. This note was written the day before the picture was taken. He almost laughed at the thought that she kept her feelings to herself for the same reasons. Yet, something stopped him. He placed both the note and the picture in his pocket, left the room.11

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"Here's your stop, lady." the cab driver thrust his hand out for his change. Claudia Strausser dug into her change purse frantically. "That'll be twenty-five cents." "TWENTY-FIVE CENTS!" What an outrage! That was a quarter of a dollar, did she look like she carried that kind of money on her? "I have fifteen cents." said Claudia firmly. The driver grew angry. "Well, you better have it--" "I have it." said a calm voice from outside the cab. Both the driver and flustered girl looked up. Matthew stood with an outstretched hand, a silver dime in his palm. Taking the money from him cautiously, Claudia paid her driver and stepped out, Matt helping her. The cab flew off down the wet road. For a moment she stared dumbly at her helper, then spoke softly. "Thank you, Mr.Howe," He took her arm. "Please, call me Matt. Do you mind if I walk you home?" Claudia smiled. "Well, you can walk me to the front door." It was then Matt realized they were standing in front of an apartment complex. He too grinned. With that, he walked her to the front door. Hesitating a little, the girl asked, "Would you like to come to dinner with me? It's at seven at McGharan's." He nodded. "Yes, it would be a pleasure." Stepping inside her apartment, Claudia smiled again. She had perfectly straight, white teeth. "Good, see you at seven." "Bye." The door closed. As he walked out, a thought came over him. What would Jessica say? Probably something like, "I never thought I'd see the day!" Yes, that's exactly what she'd say. He strolled away, whistling.13