“Life without coffee would be awful.” Noel tried to smile.I wonder what his story is, but prying isn't my nature. A man's business is his own.
John watched Noel walk to the back counter, fill a cup full of hot coffee, place three donuts onto a plate, and then settle at the table she and December had been sitting at the day before. Noel was obviously a very beautiful woman, but John wasn't in North Winds looking for love. He was grieving over his wife who had passed away ten years prior. At the age of forty-four, John had accepted the fact that his life was over without here. The only problem was...John had only been married to his wife for two years before cancer took her away. He felt obligated to keep grieving because his wife had made him promise to never love another woman again after she died. John, with tears in his eyes, had agreed to the promise. Why? Guilt? Grief? Sorrow? Possibly. But now he regretted the promise because he wanted to move on with his life...but how could he? A promise to a dying woman had chained him down into a pit of miserable grief. John wasn't the type of man to break a promise either. For better or worse, John's dad had always taught him, when a man makes a promise, a man keeps his promise. A man who went back on his word wasn't a man at all.
Noel heard a heavy sigh leave John as the man went back to reading. “Is...anything wrong?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
John kept his eyes lowered. “I wonder what the afterlife will be like for those who love and trust in Him. What John didn't tell Noel was that he was wondering when he would be set free from a sorrowful promise.
“I suppose it's going to be very beautiful,” Noel answered in a soft voice. It was clear to her that John was a man carrying a troubled heart. December had said very little about John which let Noel know the man demanded privacy.
“I believe that as well,” John nodded.
“I know one thing, it’s not going to be boring,” Noel said and then took another sip of coffee. “My granny went there recently. I guess right now she's having a grand old time.”
John recognized a heavy southern accent coming from Noel. “You're from the south?” he asked.
“North Carolina.” Noel nodded her head. “The mountainous part of the state.”
“I'm from Cincinnati. I worked...as a reporter for most of my life. I retired last year. Now I'm trying to write a book...” John struggled to speak a little about his life. He didn't want Noel thinking he was some kind of oddball. After all, a single man sitting alone in a dining room in a remote Alaska village wasn't exactly normal, unless that single man was a hunter or lumberjack. John knew he didn't come across as the Davy Crockett or Paul Bunyan type.
“What kind of book are you writing?” Noel dared to ask.
“Oh...just a book...nothing special.” John took a sip of hot coffee. “There are millions of books in the world. Some books last, some books are just a flash and boom, they fade out very quickly, and some books never make it at all.”
Noel decided to take a bite of a fresh, hot donut that John had warmed up in the oven. The donut was just right. Not too hot...but hot enough to warm the mouth and heart. “I like to read mysteries...but nothing overly dramatic. I like cozy mysteries.”
“I like to read westerns...” John felt silly telling a lovely woman like Noel that he liked to read westerns. He felt like a silly school kid. “At times I will read a classic novel by Charles Dickens. I enjoyOliver Twist.”
Noel could sense that John was now trying to sound intelligent. “I think I like westerns better thanOliver Twist,” she told John in an honest voice. “I mean, I loveA Christmas Carolby Charles Dickens, but the rest of his work...it's okay. My granny loved the classics, but I have a friend back home who likes to read westerns. As a little girl I loved the westerns...but as I grew older, I started to like reading mysteries. Sometimes I feel like a little girl reading all the cozy mysteries I do...when I find the time to read that is...but that's okay. Life is too short to be serious all the time.”
“That's what my mother used to say when I was growing up.” John managed a smile. “I was always a bit on the serious side growing up. My mother would tell me to smile more and laugh more. My dad was a serious man and...it was hard to smile around him. My mother was a free spirit, though. She enjoyed laughing and smiling. What about your mother?”
Noel tensed up some. “I'm...actually here to visit my mother for the very first time. My mother...is buried in the cemetery close to the beach,” Noel explained.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”
“It's alright,” Noel assured John. “I'm...it's a long story...” Noel took another bite of her donut. “My name is Noel Peters, by the way. Fred Grapes flew me in yesterday...well...we almost crashed, but I still made it here in one piece.”
“Yeah, Fred told me his plane had engine trouble yesterday.” John nodded. “I don't mind flying, but I admit Fred's tin can doesn't create a lot of confidence in a guy. But then again, I was on a flight from Cincinnati to Boston once that almost crashed. The bigger planes aren't as safe as people like to believe.”
“You're telling me,” Noel eagerly agreed. “The flights I took to get up here to Alaska were awful. I may pay a million dollars to leave Alaska by boat.”
“Yeah...leaving.” John looked down at his coffee.
“Did I say something wrong?” Noel asked, watching a sorrowful expression touch John's face.
“No...I...” John shook his head. “I'll be in North Winds for a while, that's all. I'll never go back to Cincinnati.”
“Why not?”
John sat silent for a minute and listened to the snowstorm outside. “I sold my home in Cincinnati. I'm here in North Winds because this is where I brought my wife for our honeymoon...twelve years ago. My wife loved Alaska and a friend of mine, who is an avid hunter, told me about North Winds.”
The way John spoke the wordwifelet Noel clearly understand that the man was a widower. “How did your wife die?” she asked in a respectful voice.
“Cancer...ten years ago,” John managed to answer. “Ten years ago last week...”
“How long were you married?”He looks my age, maybe a year or two older.
“Only for two years,” John confessed. “My wife and I grew up together. She was...in a very abusive marriage before we married. She...was already suffering from cancer and...needed someone to love her.”
