Duncan knew it was not a sign of age for a man with his long history to indulge himself in reminiscing. Still, sometimes he felt guilty to just sit and reminisce, remembering all the wonderful things he had seen and, more importantly, the people he had met. It hadn't been that many years since he made that early pit stop here in Ritzville.
Lord knew he'd spent hours enough recalling that morning. Most especially the vision of Helen; walking, swaying up the walk from where she'd parked that marvelous Beemer of hers. That memory still popped into his head at the damndest times. When it did it stayed in the back of his mind all day.
But even in those few years since that morning in May, so many changes had been made in this quiet Eastern Washington town. For one thing, the motel was now a La Quinta. As comfortable as he remembered the room he was in now was head and shoulders above the two rooms Helen and he had "shared."
The Texaco Service Station was still there but it had major competition now. Two competing oil companies had built more modern stations just off the interstate, each complete with a "convenience" store. He had driven past them in his faithful RV on the way in. He hadn't stopped of course. Duncan had no idea if the Texaco station's ownership had changed, still it made no difference. He had filled up at the Texaco station and even taken time to step into the office where Helen and he had played that nasty trick on Gerry. But what the hell, Helen had been his wife and she was as responsible for what they had done as Duncan. It wasn't as if Gerry couldn't afford the big fee for a ride to the Spokane airfield.
Damn but Gerry had been a stuffed shirt that morning. So different from the man Duncan met again later that year in Boise. The man he met in Boise he liked and admired.
Duncan still mourned his passing. He knew Helen and her kids remembered him as he was in the kid's formative years and in those few weeks before he passed away. Funny how a good man can change, but maybe it was as Helen believed, probably was that. A personality change caused by the brain tumor. The three of them, Helen and her kids, had been troopers too. He admired the way they handled their adversity.
The restaurants here in Ritzville hadn't changed and tomorrow he was planning to go into town to have breakfast in "their" diner. Duncan was looking forward to seeing Clarice again.
Which reminded him, he had to call Chester and find time to say hello while he was in town. The last Duncan heard, Chester had made sergeant along with his brother Everett. Helen had passed the word on to him after she made a phone call to Ritzville that Chester had married again, this time to a good woman. One his brother approved of. Duncan hoped to meet her too this trip.
After his walk he was going to take another look at the vintage photo's the La Quinta management was displaying in their halls. They were very effective. He had an idea to make them even more so and with the success he and his partner were enjoying with their Photography business he expected to have some "DH Photography" work sitting side by side with the old photo's, showing what Ritzville was like today. Before and after shots were really effective.
The way Ritzville was changing it wouldn't be many years before the work they were doing now would be nostalgia.
Walking to the back of the property Duncan stood looking out over the hills of wheat rolling to the horizon. Surprising how timeless and fascinating that view was.
DH Photography had been surprisingly profitable. He never expected it to pay for itself much less actually turn a profit. Even with them constantly upgrading their computers, printers and camera's the business was covering all expenses, plus covering the cost of their safari's and living expenses.
Even upkeep on the old RV was being covered. Though it was about time to retire the old rig. He'd put a lot of miles on it. He'd keep that in mind and talk it over with his business partner. His partner would insist on having final say in that.
While he was here Duncan planned on taking a drive to the little park where he had parked the RV before leading Helen up the mountain. If it didn't seem like sacrilege he'd even take some photo's from the top of "their" mountain; but maybe not.
So many things about the town were special to him now. He wasn't going to leave before walking around town, taking photos of the places Helen and he had memorialized in film. Maybe the old barn was still there where he took the shot of Helen, back lit by the rising sun. That photo still sat above his fireplace, the place of honor in his home in Seattle.
So many memories...
His partner was probably sleeping and he'd have to wake the lazy bones up, couldn't handle these "late nights" like before. He'd have to watch the hours they were keeping if he wanted to get some decent shots here.
He called the room from the lobby phone, getting the expected lazy yawn but was able to make arrangements for the evening. Duncan planned on visiting that country bar where he had come so close to disaster: if not tonight then tomorrow or the next day. Amazing how everywhere he looked reminded him of Helen and that day in May. Well, maybe not so amazing, but startling.
Duncan walked across the road to the old cemetery, taking his camera with him. He had learned the pioneer cemeteries such as this one were rich sources of meaningful photos.
Instead of walking among the monuments, he found a bench and let his mind run over the happenings since he had driven away from Boise those years ago. Watching the woman in his rear view mirror as he drove away, leaving her behind. The woman he had already decided would have been under other circumstances his second true love. It was hard courting a woman whose first love had returned, then died within weeks. The connection between Helen and her husband Gerry had been reestablished and Duncan was left feeling like the third wheel. It had been hard to drive away. Still, it was the thing to do.
Back in Seattle it had been nearly impossible to reestablish routine. He had made it a point to call Boise weekly, no more than that. It was hard not picking up the phone every night to talk but he had kept it to Sunday afternoons only.
At least half the time the phone was answered by her son Conrad or Holly, her daughter. He'd left Boise on good terms with them and they weren't uncomfortable talking to him. He knew too, they had spotted the connection between him and Helen. That had worried him for a while. Nothing was said but over time he came to believe they knew the trouble their parents marriage had been in before Duncan ever came on the scene. And since his presence in Boise had been supportive of both Gerry and Helen there didn't seem to be any bad vibes between the kids and him.
Then things changed. He let his mind drift back those short years before.
