I trudged into the kitchen slowly losing my grip on the box. I quickened my pace making it to the table and placing it down just in time. This place is going to take forever to fix. The electrician still hadn\u2019t come in to fix the outdated wiring. I wiped the bead of sweat from my forehead as Eric walked in with a couple more boxes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere do you want these?\u201d He asked through a strained voice. I pointed over by the table. Mindlessly I walked to the sink and started pushing the old fashioned handle on the sink.<\/p>\n
\u201cCrap I forgot Will hasn\u2019t stopped by yet.\u201d I said as Eric tossed me a bottled water. I smiled opening it, letting the cold refreshing water hit my dry throat. This old farmhouse had a few dust bunnies that were definitely getting to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cLivy, what\u2019s in this box? It looks like old paperwork?\u201d Eric started riffling through the box and pulling out a few pages starting to read. Curious I moved over and reached into the box. It was an old birth certificate. The name and dates were slightly faded with time but you could faintly make out a first name, Vera. I reached in again and pulled out an old envelope. Jonathan Fitzpatrick was the name on the return address.<\/p>\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t your grandfather\u2019s name Jonathan Fitzpatrick?\u201d I \u00a0asked handing the envelope over to Eric. He put the paperwork in his hand down and grabbed the awaiting envelope. He \u00a0opened the \u00a0letter quickly scanning the handwritten message.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah that is his name but I mean there has to be like a thousand Jonathan Fitzpatrick right? Almost as common as John Smith. Just a coincidence.\u201d He turned putting the letter back as he made his way out the door for more boxes.<\/p>\n
Around 7 o\u2019clock we called it a night, falling into the couch we struggled for an hour with just to squeeze it through the extremely small doors. Eric handed me a beer as he cracked into his own placing his arm round my shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cCheers to you Olivia, you\u2019re nowhere near done and I ship out tomorrow!\u201d He chuckled as he raised his glass to meet mine. I shrugged his arm off as a yeah-yeah-I-know sentiment.<\/p>\n
The heat from the idling cars made me close my window and turn on the AC. This day had been stressful enough I didn\u2019t need traf\ufb01c to make it worse. Yet here I am, sitting in rush hour traf\ufb01c, moving an inch a minute. Annoyed, I \ufb02ipped through the radio stations, allowing random songs to pop into the car from George Strait to Michael Jackson, all just fading into my ears without making much of a connection. Suddenly, a loud buzzing noise brought my thoughts quickly back to reality as my phone lit up in the cup holder. I clicked my headset on.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello,\u201d I said turning down the radio.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, Olivia, it\u2019s Amy calling about the new article you submitted.\u201d The voice answered. I mouthed \u201cAmy Houser\u201d to Eric who looked at me curious; he nodded and went back to looking out the window.<\/p>\n
Amy is the pickiest person I have ever met, and who, unfortunately, is my editor. I guess being selective would have to come with the job considering she was the chief editor for the paper.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, Amy yes, the new article is a bit different and out there but I had to, to include everything that you said you needed.\u201d I tried to keep my voice soft and light, like any good writer would do, but this woman had been criticizing every piece of work I had submitted to her since I started working at the Portland Herald.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes I noticed the different angle to this week\u2019s piece from you, but that\u2019s not what I called about. I actually called about the screenplay you\u2019ve been writing\u201d Shocked by what the intent of this phone call actually was I didn\u2019t know what to say. I had been writing this fluff piece of a screen play on and off for about three years. I had finally found an ending that I liked, so I sent it to one of the girls I was close with at the office just to get her take. I hadn\u2019t heard from her about it, so I had assumed she simply didn\u2019t have the time or want<\/i> to read it.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh yes it was a little fluff thing I worked on to pass the time.\u201d I answered slightly unimpressed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah I noticed that, but I was thinking, have you ever thought about maybe writing short stories? Or even a complete novel?\u201d As a child I use to write short stories but never thought about continuing it for any sort of a purpose except for my own amusement. What was she getting at?<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just saying, the paper could use a new angle, something that would keep the readers wanting to buy next week\u2019s paper. Like an \u201cask\u201d column, but each week would be the next chapter sort of, does that make sense?\u201d Amy actually seemed like she had thought long and hard before she offered this. I could start writing stories again, I did miss it.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay that could work, give me a couple days to work out an outline for you,\u201d I said as idea\u2019s started swirling in my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay perfect, thank you! I\u2019ll wait to see your report on Friday! Have a goodnight Olivia.\u201d I thanked her and hit the off button on my headset a little harder than necessary. Finally, the traf\ufb01c seemed to be \ufb02owing with ease and the sight of lit-up tail lights seemed lesser with each passing second.<\/p>\n
The air changed as we wandered into the hospital. The smell of Clorox seemed to be the cologne of the place, with a soundtrack that contained different versions of coughs and sneezes. We followed the signs to the main lobby, finally reaching the desk. Eric leaned on the receptionist\u2019s window. The young blonde slid the glass open as Eric spoke, \u201cHi, Jonathan Fitzpatrick, we were told he went into surgery about a half hour ago?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe just got out of surgery; we\u2019re just waiting for the doctor to give the okay to head into the room.\u201d She smiled shuffling through papers, placing them in the appropriate folders. I turned to stare at the mismatch of people in the waiting room. I motioned for Eric to follow as I made my way to an empty seat, but he was too busy flirting with the pretty blue-eyed blonde who was now blushing. I laughed and mindlessly grabbed the magazine next to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cEric Fitzpatrick?\u201d A man said as he stepped through the door into the waiting room. Replacing the magazine to the table, I stood and followed Eric to the doctor\u2019s side.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe made it through fine; just small fractures and some stitches. The medication he\u2019s taking for his heart is thinning his blood, causing him fall asleep. This is what caused the accident.\u201d The doctor said dryly as he flipped through his paperwork.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve set up an appointment with his cardiologist to clear up that matter, however, he will be tired so don\u2019t strain him too much. We\u2019re going to keep him overnight just to make certain no other complications occur. Other than those few things I don\u2019t see any other reasons why you can\u2019t go in and say hi.\u201d Eric shook the doctor\u2019s hand thanking him.<\/p>\n
We walked slowly through the hall, people passed by us and smiled, but you could tell they wanted out just as much as I did. I hated hospitals ever since I was a kid. Just the idea of how many people suffer in places like this. I know it\u2019s a place where you go to get better, but it still makes me shiver. We knocked on Uncle John\u2019s door; we heard a weak voice answer.<\/p>\n
Uncle John was lying there, as pale as the sheets that covered his body. He smiled as Eric and I moved into the room. Despite his poor vision, there was still a light in his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome here Eric and give me a hug my boy.\u201d Eric moved to the side of the bed, leaning in to place a huge hug onto the fragile old man.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019ve you two been?\u201d Uncle John chuckled as he pushed himself up to sit in the bed. Eric started to talk about random things while I looked around the room. The look of the place seemed cold and cruel. The only hints of happiness were the streaks of sunlight through the window.<\/p>\n
As I got to Uncle John\u2019s bed stand, I noticed a photo laying there withered with age. I assumed it was his wife, Caroline, but as I got a closer look, I noticed that the bouncy blonde curls of this woman were not the beautiful brunette locks I remembered his wife to have.<\/p>\n
\u201cUncle John, who is that?\u201d I questioned as I picked up the photo and handed it him. He held the photo in his hand and smiled, but his eyes held a hidden pain that he had kept in the back of his mind for years.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a wonderful old friend my dear. Beautiful isn\u2019t she.\u201d Uncle John handed me the picture, and I returned it to where I had found it. The gentle breeze from my hand moving caused the photo to float to the floor. The words \u201cDistance and time may pass but I know you\u2019ll find your way back\u201d caught my eye as it landed on the floor. My curiosity kicked in, who was this woman, and if it was a friend why have such a tender message on the back?<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wasn\u2019t just a friend was she?\u201d I said picking up the photograph handing it to Uncle John again. He chuckled as he took it from my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cVery sharp you are my dear. Yes, Vera was more than a friend, but you don\u2019t want to hear an old man\u2019s withered love story.\u201d He said lost in memory. Eric reached for the photo and stared at it for a few moments.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t mind hearing some stories Uncle John\u201d Eric winked, handing the graying photo to John.<\/p>\n
John\u2019s wrinkled hands felt over the photograph as if to feel her. Lost in thought, he looked out the window and I wasn\u2019t sure if I should disrupt his daydream. Then he started to speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer father never liked me, thought I was just a shady kid passing through the town, but that wasn\u2019t the real reason, looking back.\u201d Neither Eric nor I knew what to say to this. We both shifted awkwardly in our seats as we waited for the rest of this bizarre story from the man we thought we knew.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo tell you our story though, I\u2019ll have to take you back to beginning. Back to my days in Boston\u201d I closed my eyes and let his words form the story in my mind.<\/p>\n
Jonathan heard the wood scraping across the cement floor. He knew what that sound meant. Someone must be going into the hidden basement. From the faint sound of music that reached his ears, he knew the speakeasy must be booming tonight. Jonathan knew his father never would allow him to go down there, but that didn\u2019t stop him. He loved sneaking down there, seeing all the bootleggers from the entire city of Boston having a grand old time.<\/p>\n
Of course Jonathan knew his father smuggled alcohol, but you would never guess it from looking at him. One would assume a banker, or even someone in finance by the way he carried himself but never what he actually was, a dirty rotten crook; swindle you out of twenty bucks without even realizing it.<\/p>\n
Jonathan\u2019s father\u2019s name was Cleary Fitzpatrick and he was just as Irish as his name. \u00a0He was a short guy, only standing a good five foot seven, but was a hot headed red head that would gun you down just for looking at him wrong. He was one of the higher ups in the Gustin family gang, the biggest Irish mafia in Boston. Frank Wallace, the head of the Gustin family, was a regular to John\u2019s house, which made the cops take notice. He could remember nights where he was awoken from loud banging and yelling as the cops came in, trying with no luck, to catch Cleary.<\/p>\n
Jonathan slowly tip-toed his way down the hallway to the basement door. He jumped as the familiar loud booming knocks hit the door. Jonathan ran and hid underneath the table. He heard his father\u2019s voice getting louder as he climbed the stairs.<\/p>\n
They had a system; a guy would stand around the corner of the apartment. If someone was at the door, they would ring a bell that reached my father in the basement. See, Jonathan\u2019s father may have been a criminal, but he wasn\u2019t dumb. He never went down into the party he always stood guard. He wasn\u2019t going to be shipped off to jail for a stupid reason.<\/p>\n
Cleary made it to the door, but he paused before he reached for the handle. Suddenly, the door was kicked open. The POW of a gunshot shattered the calm. Jonathan jumped hitting his head off the table. But he knew not to move. He watched in slow motion as his father fell to the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cBoston is Italian. Sleep tight you Irish bastard.\u201d The gunmen left. Jonathan still didn\u2019t move. It was as if he had become frozen.<\/p>\n
\u201cCleary, my boy, where\u2019d yea go?\u201d Frank Wallace yelled with his Irish brogue booming as he climbed the stairs. He ran over to the body, feverishly looking for a pulse. He looked up, seeing Jonathan sitting there wide eyed tears brimming. Wallace motioned for Jonathan to come to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere\u2019s a hundred dollars boyo. You\u2019ll be needen to get outta the city as soon as you can. They\u2019ll track yea down like a dog. Your daddy taught you well you\u2019ll be fine! Now go!\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathan woke as his head hit off the window of the bus. He must have dozed off. It had been a long day. It\u2019d been over a year since his father\u2019s murder, and things were starting to settle in his life. He didn\u2019t feel the need to keep looking over his shoulder every minute. Over the year he had done some odd jobs here and there to make some money but nothing stable.<\/p>\n
But here he was, on his way to Maine. Why Maine? Honestly he didn\u2019t even know. He just went where the next wind blew him. As the bus slowed, he gathered his few treasured belongings.<\/p>\n
\u201cFriendship Maine, folks, last stop.\u2019 Jonathan stepped off and looked around. It looked like something right off a post card. Just like the definition of Maine, small coastal town, with the endless ocean on one side and a sea of trees on the other. Jonathan had no idea what to do, so he just wandered, looking at the store fronts and enjoying the strong smell of sea salt. It reminded him of the wharf at night back home.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou lost stranger?\u201d Jonathan looked up to see a beautiful blue-eyed blonde smiling back at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust lookin\u2019 for work ma\u2019am.\u201d Jonathan smiled knowing he couldn\u2019t look away from the small town beauty.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt isn\u2019t much, but my father owns a local fishery up the road. Its seasonal work and we give you a place to stay, you just have to figure your meals out,\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds great.\u201d Jonathan cut her off. He knew this was the best offer for work he would receive. And who could ever say no to such a sweet person? She nodded and went on her way. Jonathan watched her until she disappeared into one of the stores. He didn\u2019t know why, but he knew she was special.<\/p>\n
Jonathan wiped the sweat from his brow. Salt from the sea water had dried on his forehead, leaving his skin rough and dry. It had been a successful catch day but it was time to head back to shore for a good night\u2019s rest.<\/p>\n
As the boat reached the dock, he hopped off pulling it closer to the dock. As he tied the boat up, he heard Richard Day, the owner of the fishery, as well as the local sheriff.<\/p>\n
\u201cDeclan wants you and some of the boys to head to Mulligans tonight if you want. Sort of a \u201cwelcome to the family\u201d I guess you could say, boy.\u201d He laughed a deep hearty laugh, walking up toward the street.<\/p>\n
Jonathan finished tying and made his way up to the street. Vera was standing there talking to her father. She wore tight blue jeans with a light gray sweater. She looked up at Jonathan approaching and smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow was the water today?\u201d Vera asked both men. Her father shrugged mumbling something about the calm seas of Maine.<\/p>\n
\u201cWasn\u2019t bad.\u201d Jonathan said, barely loud enough for Vera to hear. She laughed. Not a hearty full-bellied laugh like her father, but a laugh that warmed him up after a long day.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a chatty one aren\u2019t you Jonathan!\u201d Vera joked as her father chuckled in agreement.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell I\u2019ll be heading back to the house; I\u2019ll see you two there.\u201d Richard said as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and headed up the street. Vera just looked out at the water, watching the wave\u2019s crash against the wooden dock.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s beautiful isn\u2019t it?\u201d Vera asked Jonathan as he followed her gaze out to the endless water slapping the side of the boat. \u201cThis would be the only thing I would miss if I do leave. I would miss the sunrise and sunset over the water and the smell of salt in the air.\u201d Vera took a deep breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere do you want to go?\u201d Jonathan asked timidly as Vera started walking down the edge of the dock. She sat down with her legs swinging over the edge.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo idea. Just wanna see the world, get out of here. Meet new people. You know, see if the grass really is<\/i> greener!\u201d Vera announced more to the water than to Jonathan.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can tell yea, it ain\u2019t always greener.\u201d Jonathan said his slight Irish accent apparent to any New Englander like Vera. He felt a slight pain in his stomach as he looked up at Vera. She was staring at him as if he was the world she longed to see and he didn\u2019t have the heart to tell her it was nothing as she hoped it would be.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what about you, where do you wanna go?\u201d Vera again looked at him as if was the key to everything she had wanted her entire life. This time he looked out at the water to ponder this question. He hadn\u2019t ever actually thought about it at all. But he had lived with the Day\u2019s long enough that the thought of leaving Maine actually seemed scary.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh I dunno, maybe stay here. It\u2019s beautiful, ain\u2019t nowhere on the coast that comes close. Maybe start a family settle down, plant some roots.\u201d Jonathan looked back at Vera, surprised that there wasn\u2019t disappointed on her face from his answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can understand that, has it been awhile since you\u2019ve found any place that\u2019s felt like home?\u201d Jonathan nodded thinking back to Boston. He didn\u2019t really miss the city, but rather the feeling that he belonged, the feeling that someone cared if he came home or not.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell you\u2019re more than welcome to make Maine your home.\u201d Vera stood to stretch, reaching for Jonathan\u2019s hand to help him up. A warm feeling washed over Jonathan that he hadn\u2019t felt in a while. He did feel at home.<\/p>\n
The rain was falling hard covering the slick ground. Jonathan trudged to Mulligan\u2019s, he was a little nervous to meet Declan. He may work with him, but the guy seemed like he was in control. Even over Richard.<\/p>\n
\u201cJonathan, over here!\u201d He looked up as he was waved over by a dark haired man that stood well over 6\u20195. Jonathan nodded in acknowledgement. Two men that seemed to be standing guard watched Jonathan walk by.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are you my brother? How\u2019s the Maine weather treatin\u2019 yea?\u201d Jonathan picked up on his accent immediately. Curious he sat down in the waiting chair. Jonathan only nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you like a drink?\u201d Declan motioned for a waitress that hustled over. She was a busty redhead who turned red just looking at Declan. He simply raised his hand and she understood turning on the spot heading back to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, Jonathan Fitzpatrick, a man of little words I see?\u201d Declan smiled a devilish smile, his pearl white teeth glowing in the dim lighting of the pub. Jonathan\u2019s eyes narrowed as he stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry boyo!\u201d Declan laughed as he slapped Jonathan on the shoulder. \u201cWe know who ya\u2019re. Your fat\u2019er is a legend to us here. We would have asked you to join earlier, but we had to make sure you were stayin\u2019 in town.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDeclan, I-\u201d Jonathan started but the redhead waitress had placed a drink in front of him. Declan grabbed his and raised it his lips.<\/p>\n
\u201cBack in Ireland, it\u2019s rude not to drink a free drink.\u201d Jonathan looked right at Declan as he raised the glass to his lips and finished. The strong sting of alcohol burned the back of his throat. He tried to hold back a cough but he couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere yea go. Tastes good! It\u2019ll put hair on yea chest and make a man outta yea.\u201d He again slapped Jonathan on the back, causing him to cough even more. Then someone sat down next to Jonathan that made him cough even more. Vera was at the pub, and currently placing a kiss on Declan\u2019s check.<\/p>\n
\u201cVera what\u2019re you doing here love?\u201d Declan said as he pushed her away from him. Vera looked a little taken aback. Jonathan reached for a glass of water as Declan shooed Vera away from the table. Then Jonathan noticed the ring on Vera\u2019s left hand for the first time.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Vera was engaged to Declan?\u201d I asked startled by this new twist. Uncle John shifted in his hospital bed. His sad nod revealed how crushing this news was still to this day.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe really did love him at first. See, Vera was never a good liar. Her eyes always gave her away. When she was sad they would be a certain shade of blue, and when she was mad they looked identical to storm clouds. And when she loved you, they were crystal clear. That\u2019s how she looked at Declan, till she started looking at me like that.\u201d Uncle John began again.<\/p>\n
Jonathan was washing up when he heard someone calling his name. He stuck his head out the bathroom door to see Vera standing in his room. Her eyes that certain shade of blue that showed she was upset. Jonathan washed the rest of the shaving cream off his face and joined her on the edge of his bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did he do to you?\u201d Jonathan said lifting her chin to look into her steely blue eyes. Then he saw it, the bruise that had started to form around her left eye. She looked away ashamed, but Jonathan pulled her close.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe didn\u2019t mean to. I was in his way.\u201d Vera sobbed into Jonathan\u2019s chest. Jonathan\u2019s insides raged with anger. Declan had been getting worse and worse. He would be so drunk he wouldn\u2019t show up to work or run anything. Those responsibilities fell on Jonathan\u2019s shoulders, and he was sick of it.<\/p>\n
\u201cVERA! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU.\u201d Declan boomed from outside. Jonathan could feel Vera tense as she contemplated her next move. But Jonathan made it for her. He picked her up and placed her in the closet just in time for Declan to start banging on the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know she\u2019s in there witchu, Jonathan. She\u2019s MY wife ya bastard. Let me in!\u201d Declan banged again. Jonathan opened the door and Declan leaned on the frame to hold himself up. He was a sight Jonathan thought. His hair uncombed and wild, his belt undone and shirt untucked.<\/p>\n
Jonathan moved aside so Declan could see Vera was not in there. Declan went to take a step into the room and Jonathan stopped him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou tryin\u2019 stop me?\u201d Declan hiccupped at Jonathan as he tried to stand straight.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust get out of here Declan before we both do something we regret.\u201d Jonathan managed to say through gritted teeth. Declan smiled his devilish smile and the fire in his green eyes roared. Declan raised the bottle in his hand smashing it off the wall. He stumbled towards Jonathan with the shatter glass pointing at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t mess with me, boyo. Or I\u2019ll be needen to put you in yer place.\u201d Declan slurred still stumbling towards Jonathan. Jonathan reacted. He grabbed the arm with the bottle and pulled it behind Declan\u2019s back while his other hand reached around his throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet out, and never come back. Vera is done with you.\u201d Jonathan spat in Declan\u2019s ear, as he struggled to get free. Jonathan let him go, Declan regained control of his balance and pointed at Jonathan.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have no idea what war you\u2019ve started, and Vera will never be done with me.\u201d He threw the remaining piece of bottle on the ground. Jonathan shaking a bit sat down on the edge of the bed as Vera came out of the closet. They both looked at each other knowing everything was about to change.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet up boy.\u201d Jonathan was awoken by Richard Day throwing a suitcase at his chest. Still half asleep, Jonathan looked around in confusion. Then he realized Richard wasn\u2019t the only one in the room. He shot straight up in bed, but it was too late. There were the two body guards that had been with Declan that night at Mulligan\u2019s yanking him from his bed. Richard walked over to Jonathan and looked him in the face.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou threaten my operation, and we threaten you. We take you in, treat you like family, and this is how you repay us?\u201d Richard nodded and the two men proceeded to kick and punch Jonathan in the stomach.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow I\u2019ve always been a fair man. Being the sheriff and all, so I\u2019m gunna let you go.\u201d Richard spoke as Jonathan looked up into his soulless blue eyes. Then Jonathan figured it all out, no wonder it was so easy for these smugglers to never have to worry about getting caught. The authority that would make them pay was actually being paid by them! He was in charge of the whole damn thing!<\/p>\n
Jonathan coughed, spitting up blood as another punch collided with his head. The men let him go as he fell to all fours still coughing and spitting blood. Completely defeated Jonathan collapsed to the floor.<\/p>\n
Uncle John looked out the window, not blinking, just a staring. I wasn\u2019t sure what to say or do.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was the last time I saw Vera. I joined the Navy that same week and left Maine within two. Course I tried to find her when I got back to the states, but they must have moved. The fishery had been closed for years and the old farm house was abandoned. Ask around but no one really knew what had happened to them. They all just decided to up and leave. Some say Declan died of alcohol poisoning, but there was no proof. So I moved on with my life, met my late wife Caroline and you pretty much know how that wonderful story turned out.\u201d \u00a0Uncle John smiled at me as I stood to stretch. It had been an interesting story. I thanked him and reassured him I would visit again soon.<\/p>\n
As I drove home that day it hit me. I should write about Uncle John\u2019s story! I rushed home. As I ran into the house, I pulled out my laptop and just wrote everything I remembered him telling me. The words flowed as the page numbers grew and grew, till it was time to send it in.<\/p>\n
Three weeks flew by as each article was posted to the paper. Tons of emails came in wanting to know if Vera ever found her way back to John, but I couldn\u2019t lie and the last article went into the paper was not received well. Until one email caught my eye. The woman’s name was Vera Mahoney and she wanted to talk to me. I hastily replied with times I was available and before I knew it, Vera Mahoney was in my office.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s so great to meet you!\u201d I said reaching out my hand to hers. She smiled as she shook my hand and we both sat down. Her hair pearl white put up in a loose bun, her blue eyes magnified only slightly by her glasses.<\/p>\n
\u201cI read your stories in the paper. And I believe I know the man who told you.\u201d Vera shifted her purse on her lap. I smiled as I stood to open the door. Uncle John was standing in the doorway. Time stood still as they stared at each other. Seventy-three years these two have been apart and yet they both seemed like it was only a week.<\/p>\n
\u201cJohn I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Vera begin to say but before she could finish Uncle John smiled walking to over to hug her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried to find you but no one knew anything!\u201d Uncle John said not letting her go. Vera nodded slowly as Uncle John released her.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter you left Declan and my father were killed in a car accident. No one knows what caused it but I\u2019m sure it had to do with alcohol. I saw that as my chance to get out of Maine, and I took it.\u201d Vera said with empathy as Uncle John looked away.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have to understand they told me you left! That you found something better. And you left me nothing! I had no idea where you went or how to find you!\u201d Vera responded frantically to Uncle John disappointed expression.<\/p>\n
\u201cDistance and time may pass but I know you\u2019ll find your way back to me.\u201d Vera looked up into Uncle John’s eyes. For that moment they were young again, for that moment nothing else mattered.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I trudged into the kitchen slowly losing my grip on the box. I quickened my pace making it to the table and placing it down just in time. This place is going to take forever to fix. The electrician still hadn\u2019t come in to fix the outdated wiring. I wiped the bead of sweat from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-714","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","aesop-entry-content"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/714","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/10"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=714"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/714\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":715,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/714\/revisions\/715"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=714"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=714"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jolineblais.net\/tributaries\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=714"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}