Great Neighbors in Hard Times
When John got killed by that drunk driver I was absolutely devastated. The police came to my door to tell me what had happened, and they were great, but really couldn't console me.
Just as they were leaving, my neighbor, Eve, came to see if everything was OK. One of the officers took her aside and told her. She came in and wrapped her arms around me and cried with me. It helped and surprised me. We weren't exactly close; friendly, yes but not true friends, more like passing acquaintances.
She sat me down at the kitchen table and told me she was there to help. She explained that she had worked as a paralegal for a number of years, knew all the right things to do, and would help me through this terrible time. The police had told me they needed me to come down to the morgue and do a positive ID. She nodded, "I told the officer I'd get you there."
I grabbed a jacket and we went. It was horrible but she put her arm around me and it helped. We left; and in the car she asked me if John had any provisions for burial or cremation. I was still kind of numb from all that had just happened but remembered John telling me once that he didn't want any service or cemetery. "I guess a simple cremation." I said through my tears.
"First thing tomorrow morning I'll take you to the best local place for that and be at your side to keep them from 'selling you up'. They can be pushy. Did John have a will or insurance? I can help you with those issues too. It's best for you to keep busy with this stuff and not just wallow in self pity. When we get back from the funeral home tomorrow we can go through your records, see just what you have, and get all that in process. Then we'll go after the bastard who did this to him. I just hope, for your sake, that he had car insurance and is rich."
"Tonight you should sleep in our guest bedroom. Being in your own bed without him might be traumatic. I know it would be for me." I just nodded. She was taking charge and I knew I needed that or I'd be totally incapable of doing anything but bawling. "Mike and I have been together for almost 20 years, how about you and John?"
"21 years on Christmas Day." I sobbed because Christmas Day, our anniversary, was just around the corner. In fact, I had been sorting through the boxes of decorations that John had just taken down from the attic when the police came. We pulled into my driveway.
She put her hand on my arm and said, "I just want you to know that Mike and I are here for you. We'll do everything we can to help you get through this. Notice I didn't say get over it because I'm pretty sure you never will or even want to. After that many years we have memories that we cherish. Let's go pack an overnight bag for you."
We got to their house and Mike just gave me a hug and said he was sorry for my loss. I put my bag in the downstairs guest room (the house was exactly the same as ours) and when I came out Eve handed me a brandy. "This will help you sleep." I don't really drink much but I welcomed it that night. It hit me harder than expected and I thanked Eve and told them that I was going to try and sleep. I did my night time things and hit the bed. It all seemed a little surreal to me.
I slept until 9:00. Eve woke me by knocking on the door. I wondered, hopefully for a second, if it had all just been a bad dream and if this was just part of it. "Time to get dressed and moving," she said. I showered and got dressed in the black slacks and grey blouse I had picked out the night before. "Let's plan the day. First the funeral home, next we go back to your place and see just what you are entitled to by way of insurance, then we pick up copies of the death certificate, next we notify social security, next we eat lunch (I'm buying), next we file with the insurance companies. That should fill the day."
"The law firm I worked for did a lot of probate work and I recommend them highly. They're pretty crappy at negligence cases, though, but I know a lawyer that is great with those. She's a real 'knee-capper'." She explained what that meant and I was ready for it. I wanted to punish the bastard that took my John. We did the funeral home, went back to my house, and started going through the files. John had always handled all that stuff and I really didn't even know what kind of insurance he had. It turned out he had a couple of million dollar policies. Next I called his work and told his boss what had happened. He expressed his sorrow, said what a valued employee John had been, and transferred me to HR. They told me that as a 'key employee' they had taken out a 5 million dollar policy on his life and that I was entitled to half of it.
We went to the coroner's office and they asked how many certified copies we needed. I looked at Eve for direction. She said ten. I wondered why so many and she said that we hadn't even begun to scratch the surface. She was right. By the time the day was over I was looking at having about 10 million dollars and we still hadn't talked to the 'knee-capper'. I slept well, knowing that I had no financial worries, but still yearned for John.
The next day we met with the lawyers and I learned that almost all that money was tax free from the insurance. The second attorney, 'the knee-capper' was a real bitch. Eve just looked at me, smiled, and nodded. I told her she had the case. At Eve's suggestion, I had brought a couple of years tax returns with me. The lawyer licked her lips. I'll get you a judgment for at least 10 million. For that you owe me nothing. If we can collect I'll get 40%. Sounded fair to me and I took the deal.
On the way home I suggested a place for lunch and told Eve that I was buying. I asked her if I could pay her in some way for all her efforts. She squeezed my hand and said, "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. You can pay me by doing the same. Mike and I are always there for you. If you need anything just ask."
Four months latter it turned out that the drunk who killed my John was quite wealthy and had a big umbrella policy. I got a 20 million dollar judgment and was able to collect almost all of it. Life did move on and Eve and I saw and talked every day. Either she would come over to my house for breakfast or I would go to hers, sweet buns in hand both ways. We talked, laughed and shared our histories. She was probably the first true best friend I ever had except for John. Every time she left she always said the same thing, "If there is anything that you need from Mike or me we're here for you."
When news of my newfound wealth got out I found myself surrounded by eager suitors. I didn't want that. I was nobodies 'Cougar'. Missing male companionship did affect me though and I tried a few of the dating sites. Once guys found out I was wealthy their eyes lit up. I'd go to the rest room and call a cab. On night Eve, Mike, and I went out to dinner with a friend of Mikes. It was the same old story. He was just another guy who wanted to be 'kept'. I persevered through the diner and on the way home both Eve and Mike apologized profusely. I told them it wasn't their fault and laughed it off. When we pulled to a stop in their drive and I got out to walk next door Eve said again,"If there is anything that you need from Mike or me we're here for you. Thanks for dinner." I had refused to let them pay but did hate paying for the assholes' food and drink.
Life went on and despite my newfound wealth I still liked to be active. One day I saw Mike out mowing my yard. I asked him why and he told me he had just bought this new mower and it was so fast, simple, and fun to drive that he would do mine too. I knew he wouldn't want to be paid so I told him that in return I'd weed his flower beds. Eve had told me how much he hated to weed. He laughed and said it was a deal.
Mike was the ultimate 'do-it-yourself' guy. He seemed to constantly be working on one project or another. He has always doing yard work, power washing, painting, or even mechanical stuff on his car. He had a nice build, similar to John's. Sometimes I would find myself looking out the window at him, watching him at whatever chore he was up to. Then I would mentally slap myself to remind me that he was the husband of the best friend I had ever had.
Eve and I still had our morning visits every day but Saturday. She left early those days to visit her mother who lived a couple of hours away. Although most of our conversations were just "girl talk' she still helped me with things. I just wished I could help her in return but she said she was fine. And still, when we parted she always left with, "If there is anything that you need from Mike or me we're here for you."
The night of John's death, I just closed the door on the second bedroom up-stairs. It still held the Christmas ornament boxes that I had been working on when John died. One Saturday I decided that it was time to deal with them and started to separate the ones that had been in John's family from the ones we had bought for each other over the years. I figured I would send the family ones to his older sister, who had children she could pass them on to. I got done with the sorting and decided to put my keepers back in the attic. I took the step ladder out of the closet, opened it and placed it under the hatch. This was the kind of thing that John had always done and I couldn't make myself climb that ladder.
I went downstairs, looked out and saw Mike on a tall ladder painting a birdhouse. He was shirtless as normal. I remembered what Eve said all the time and went and explained my predicament. He said that he would be there in a bit but wanted to finish and clean his brush first. He said it would cost me a beer. I laughed, thanked him, and went back home. Thirty minutes later he knocked at the door. I let him in and he said he was hot and could use the beer first before he got up in that attic.
I could see that he was pretty hot, with sweat running down his chest. I tried not to see anymore. "He is my best friends' husband" I silently admonished myself. I gave him a beer and he downed it quickly. I knew from Eve that Mike liked his beer but when I saw him outside without a shirt on I wondered where it all went. His six-pack abs were pretty evident.
I followed him upstairs, trying not to focus on his butt. We got to the bedroom; he went up the ladder and opened the hatch. "Whew, it is hot in there. How many of those boxes are going up here?" I told him just six of the eight. "Well I'm going to have to shuffle some stuff to get all six in but I can handle the first three, move them, get the rest up, and put them all together. Just pass them up to one at a time."
