Uncle John’s eyes narrowed. “So you can apologize for comin’ down so hard on her, that’s why.”
“I didn’t come down too hard on her. A man isdeadbecause—”
“Because that man made the decision to try to steal your treasure,” John interrupted, sounding impatient. “And boy, you know I love you like family, but it’s a wonder you ain’t got a nosebleed from that moral high ground you’re standin’ on. Did Cami mess up by tellin’ her momma as much as she did? Sure. But you’re treatin’ her likeshewas the one who came down here armed to the teeth and with a mind to robbin’ you blind. Makes me wonder if you’re usin’ her mistake as an excuse.”
“An excuse for what exactly?” Doc scoffed.
“For pushin’ her away ’cause she had the temerity to get too close.”
“Temerity, huh? This isn’t Scrabble. You don’t get extra points for using big words.”
Uncle John sounded impatient-bordering-on-pissed. “See, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were intentionally bein’ an asshole so I’ll drop the subject.”
Chagrined, Doc opened his mouth to tell John…what? Lord help him, he didn’t know. Hewastrying to change the subject.
John took advantage of his silence. “I’ve been watchin’ you for the last coupla years, and I think I finally got you figured out.”
All the fight had gone out of Doc. “Well, that makes one of us,” he muttered.
The look Uncle John leveled on him then was so shrewd it took all Doc’s concentration not to shift uncomfortably.
“I think people lock their hearts away for a lot of different reasons.” John’s tone had softened slightly. “Some do it ’cause they’ve suffered a loss so great their heart becomes an empty shell, fragile and delicate. Others do it because they’re terrified of gettin’ their hearts broken again. I’d say both of those scenarios probably fit you for a while.”
“But not now?” Doc was genuinely intrigued.
John shook his head. “Now I think you’re hangin’ onto your pain because you think it’s worth somethin’. Because you think continuin’ to hurt somehow gives meanin’ to your wife’s death.”
Doc’s heart skidded to a halt so quickly it left him dizzy. If Uncle John noticed he reached out to steady himself against the newel post, John didn’t say anything. He just plowed ahead.
“But that’s horseshit, Doc. Lily died and it’s awful. But you’re still alive, and you don’t honor her by hidin’ away from what god or fate or the universe or whatever you believe in is offerin’ you. You honor her by goin’ on livin’. By havin’ a happy life. By takin’ a happy wife if you can find one who’ll have you. By fatherin’ a whole bunch of happy kids if that’s what you want. You honor her by doin’ all the things she can’t.”
Tears pricked the backs of Doc’s eyes. He opened his mouth but, again, nothing came out. Probably because his thoughts were swirling so quickly he couldn’t hold onto any of them. Anytime he tried to catch one, it felt too heavy or too big and it would slip through his grasp.
He finally settled on something quippy. “Are we going to have to start calling you Philosopher John instead of Uncle John?”
John twisted his lips until they completely disappeared beneath his beard and mustache. “I’ve always been a little introspective. But recently I’ve been doin’ even more soul-searchin’ than usual. And you know what I’ve decided?”
Doc was afraid to ask. And yet he heard the wordwhatcome out of his mouth.
“I’ve decided that lettin’ yourself fall in love takes more courage than keepin’ your heart to yourself. That lettin’ yourself fall in love is both as commonplace and as miraculous as a sunrise, and it’s that dichotomy that makes it so damn beautiful. I’ve decided I would be a fool to throw it away when it’s starin’ me square in the face.”
“Are you saying you’ve gone and fallen in love with Dana Levine?”
When John smiled, his teeth blazed white. “If I ain’t there already, then I’m well on my way.”
Doc nodded. “Yeah? So how would you feel if she was gone tomorrow? Would you be okay just up and replacing her with someone else?”
Uncle John’s brow pinched as he gave the question the consideration it deserved. When he finally answered, he did so slowly. “If I was fortunate enough to meet someone as wonderful as she is? I reckon I’d welcome that woman with open arms and count my lucky stars.”
Doc knew the next question he asked was going to sound antagonistic. But he didn’t know of another way to phrase it. “You don’t think that’d be a slap in the face of Dana’s memory?”
“That’s what I was gettin’ at earlier, son.” Uncle John sighed. “What good would it do to stand my ground and honor Dana’s memory if it meant I was standin’ alone? After all, she’s the one who taught me just how sweet fallin’ in love can be.”
Uncle John’s use of the wordsonreminded Doc of his father. Reminded him of a conversation he’d had with his dad a couple months before the heart attack.
His mind drifted back to that balmy summer evening…
“Lily wouldn’t want you carrying on this way, son,” his father said quietly.
