Long-Awaited Wedding. Doris Fell Elaine

me, she had said, that you won’t grieve. That you will let yourself love someone again.

      He had promised, never believing he would lose her. But Adrian had been borne on the wings of angels away from him. He could no longer bring her classic features clearly into focus. Still, these were good memories, as though he’d raked through the bitterness and was taking stock of his future.

      Looking down on a ribbon of clouds, he had the feeling that they had both broken the bounds of earth. He had reached a pivotal point over these last few months, and knew that life was still worth living. He didn’t have to hang on to the past or even know what the future held. Companionship, he hoped. Even the thought was guilt-free. He wasn’t looking, but then he hadn’t been looking when Adrian came into his life.

      The challenge of working was back. He wanted Larhaven to continue as a top competitor in the aircraft industry. But, unlike his father, he wanted to retire early. He was wealthy enough to do so now, but he had to hang on until he was convinced that Nick could take over. Allen felt like a man at the top of a ski slope, ready to take the mountain. The change had crept up on him. But he felt alive, whole again. The ache inside was still there, but he knew there would be good days ahead.

      He grabbed an envelope from his pocket and jotted down the things that he and Adrian had always planned to do: Paris in the spring, a night course on computers, and a crash course in German. Then he struck a line through each one. That was part of his past: Adrian’s goals, no longer his own.

      What do I want to do? he asked himself. I’m on my own now. And he wrote down several things: Retire in five years. Travel abroad. Take flying lessons—see Chris about this one. And then he wrote, Pursue peace.

      He stared at the words. What had possessed him to write them? Adrian again? No, his Grecian grandmother. She was an old-fashioned woman with the old country ingrained in her life-style. She wore black mostly—shawls, dark stockings and laced-up shoes. But she was bubbly and full of pearly bits of wisdom. When she hugged you against her ample bosom, you felt secure.

      “Allen,” she had predicted, “when you have dollar bills coming out of your ears and you’re stinking rich like your father, you won’t be happy. My son never was.” She had squeezed Allen’s hand. “There’s something more to life than making a good living. You find it, Allen. Then you can help Nick and Chris.”

      He lifted the pen to cross off the words, then changed his mind. What was wrong with pursuing peace? Allen looked out the aircraft window. The jet was beginning to rumble and bounce from the turbulence. The clouds beneath were gray-white, uneven like snowdrifts.

      For the last fifteen minutes, Nick had wandered restlessly through the first-class cabin, talking to other passengers. Now he was up by the kitchen keeping his balance with his feet apart, a third cup of coffee in his hands. And flirting with another flight attendant Nick pointed toward Allen and the attendant peered around the kitchenette.

      Now, I can expect sympathy and pity that I don’t want, Allen thought

      Allen leaned back in his leather seat and thought about his brothers. Things were going better with Chris, but he was always at odds with Nick. Putting him down. Never thinking he measured up. But that was the way his father had treated all three of them. So he wrote on the back of the envelope: Reconcile with your brothers, particularly with Nick.

      The seat belt sign flashed on. Nick would be back, talking nonstop all the way to John Wayne. Allen glanced ahead and saw Nick groping his way down the aisle. As Nick dropped in his seat and fastened the belt, he asked, “What are you doing, Allen?”

      “Writing out my want list”

      “That’s kid stuff. My sons do that all the time. Christmas wish list Birthday list. Any holiday they can throw in.

      Allen thought, I should spend more time with Nick’s kids. Start being the kind of uncle they need.