Cynthia stood looking at the collection of photos on Tuckers mantel. There was the small picture of Marge and David on their wedding day. There was a framed picture of the home place on Reber in St. Louis. The third and final picture was of Tucker when he was 50 years old standing behind a green Norton. The caption attached identified it as a 1970 Commando 750 “S”. His 6’2” frame towered over the bike. She turned the picture over and read the message that was taped to the back, “Tucker, found this photo in a box. Printed it on some of the canvas we make and framed it. I think it was shot around 1985. Hope you like it. Mark”
Cynthia knew Mark and his wife had a
business in St. Louis, but had not thought what it was. So Mark was into photography? So was Tucker. He had his own studio back in 1968. She had seen a lot of his work and while she
knew very little about photography, she knew he was good. He liked to take pictures of people being
people and they did not always know he was taking them. He had shown her how he could hold the camera
under his arm and focus and click and no one knew he was doing it.
She turned the photo back over and ran her
finger over his face. He had sunglasses
on, so she could not see his beautiful blue eyes. He was a handsome man. What had transpired in his life to bring him
to this point? What had transpired in
the cosmos to bring her to this point?
Had they met in a different time and place, would she have been his
wife? Would they have had a family? She had never dared to dream along those
lines. Tucker was a very unemotional
man, but had they met when they were younger, it might have been different. She knew that when he was in high school and
after, he had dated Janice. Had she hurt
him so badly that he could not trust another woman? Had he remained so in love with her that
there was no room for another love?
She placed the picture back on the
mantle. She felt Tucker beside her
before she saw him. He had a presence
that she could feel. What was that about? It was like there was a connection between
the two of them. She turned and suddenly
was overcome with emotion. Tucker held
her as she cried. “Oh, Tucker! What will I ever do without you?”
“You’ll be alright. This is not the worst thing that has happened
to you and you are a very strong woman.
I am not leaving you because I want to.
You know that, don’t you?”
Cynthia suddenly felt very selfish.
Tucker was dying and she was making him feel guilty! That was not how it should be. She straightened and took her head off his
chest. The moment was over and the
closeness that had held the two together for just a few moments still lingered
in the air. Cynthia knew instinctually
that they had taken a step that could never be untaken and she wondered what it
all meant in the grand scheme of things.
There was no future and they both knew it. There was no past. No past and no future. There was only the journey into the unknown
which would end at the grave.
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