Dobrila's Heart

Beata

Five days after notifying Beata of Dobrila's passing, I heard a soft knock on the apartment door. Beata stood outside with her roll-away luggage, looking slightly confused and apprehensive.

I knew it was Beata from the first moment I saw her. Her dark hair and bright blue eyes were unmistakable.

Oh," she said, looking from a small notebook in her hand to the apartment number in perplexity. "I'm sorry...I thought... I'm looking for Jimmy Dunfield."

"Hello, Beata," I said with a bright smile, extending my hand, "I would know you anywhere, the family resemblance is striking."

"Her mouth gaped, and her eyes widened as she reached out to shake my hand. "Oh," she stammered, her eyes scanning my entire body. "I was... I mean, I thought..."

"That I'd be much older, right?" I said, anticipating her thoughts with a laugh as we shook hands. "Yeah...I know... I get that a lot."

I invited her inside and, along with her suitcase, she carried an overnight bag and a briefcase attached to the pull handle of her luggage.

"I'm sorry for all this," she said, indicating her luggage, "I haven't checked into a hotel yet," she explained. "I came directly from the airport. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here."

Depositing her luggage in the hallway, I led her to the kitchen table and offered her a cup of coffee. "Coffee!" she said as she accepted the cup with a smile. "I have SO needed a cup, thank you."

Malenka eyed the stranger suspiciously, sniffing at her feet for several moments before jumping up into Beata's lap.

"Hello there, Malenka," she cooed, scratching behind her ears and being rewarded with loud purrs. "Do you remember Auntie Beata?"

We chatted amiably for several minutes. She told me about her trip and the difficulties she encountered in Europe while trying to get a flight to the U.S. with all the major airports locked down due to the lengthy ice storm.

"I apologize for earlier," she said. "The way Dobrila spoke of you, I guess I expected you to be a much older man."

I waved off her apology with a dismissive flip of my hand and a shrug.

"You've done absolutely great work for the company, Jimmy. Dobrila was so right about you. Whenever we talked, she always spoke very highly of you."

It suddenly struck me that Beata knew nothing about my relationship with her sister, and it pained me to realize she would be blindsided by learning everything this way.

She looked around as if noticing the apartment for the first time and seeing her sister's influence everywhere. "This IS her apartment, isn't it?"

I nodded solemnly, "Actually, Beata..." I explained, "This was our apartment."

Her eyes widened is surprise, "You...you lived here too? With her?"

I sighed and nodded. "Come, let's sit on the sofa and be comfortable. There are some things you need to know, and there is a letter to you from Dobrila."

Wordlessly, she followed me to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Dobrila's letter to her was waiting on the coffee table in front of us.

"Let's begin with this," I said handing her the envelope addressed to her. "Dobrila wrote each of us a letter on the night before she passed away. I have no idea what she has written to you, but I'm hoping it may explain a few things."

"Okay," she said, looking apprehensive as she took the envelope from my hand. She tore it open and pulled out the two papers inside. Before reading, she reached into her purse, took out a pair of reading glasses and put them on.

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Beata, my dearest siostra,

If you are reading this then you know I am gone. Be happy for me, I am gone to a better place.

Our family has been through many changes over the years and, if it was not for a few second-generation cousins still in Poland, you and I were the only ones that remained from our immediate family.

But, as I write to you now, you need to know that you are not my only family anymore, Beata. I have recently remarried. Jimmy and I were married several months ago. He is a wonderful, wonderful man, Beata, and has made the last days of my life something I will treasure always. My old heart is finally giving up, but Jimmy is my heart now.

I do apologize for you finding out about my marriage this way. Jimmy's family also knows nothing of our marriage. I will let him explain how we came to this decision. But, still, I am sorry you had to learn like this.

I have also changed my will and named Jimmy as my sole beneficiary. Everything I own is to go to him, including my position in the company. I did not make that decision lightly, Beata, I know, in my heart, that Jimmy, as your partner, will be a tremendous asset to you and our company. He has already proven himself to us both with his innovative ideas and his work ethic. I hope you will see the wisdom in this decision and approve of Jimmy as your partner. Please work with him and guide him with your business knowledge. I know you will both prosper together.

I know you are still feeling the pain of your breakup and divorce from Kevin. But I also know that the right man for you is still out there waiting for you. You are so beautiful and talented; I doubt any man could resist your charms.

I tell you this now in confidence, sister to sister, siostra do siostry, my Jimmy is exactly the type of man you need to have in your life. Loving, caring, and supportive. Please find for yourself this kind of man, moja siostra, a man who will give you children and be a family.

Do not grieve for me, you and I both knew this would come to pass someday. I will leave this world happy in the knowledge that the two people I love most in the world will be healthy, happy, and prosperous, and live long and happy lives.

Please look after Jimmy for me, he will need your love and comfort.

Kocham Cię Beata

Dobrila

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I watched her as she read her letter. She was, indeed, a physically striking woman. Her countenance, so like Dobrila's only younger and less care-worn.

She seemed to be about as tall as Dobrila, possibly even a bit taller, though it was hard to gauge exactly because she was wearing high-heeled shoes. She also had a trimmer, more athletic build, busty with broad hips like Dobrila, with very shapely legs.

She caught her breath shortly after beginning to read and glanced up at me. Moments later, as she resumed her reading, her eyes welled with tears and my heart went out to her. She was reading her sister's last words to her.

With a heavy sigh, she placed the letter in her lap, her fingers gripping the paper tightly. She looked up at me as a tear fell from her eye and traced a path down her cheek.

"So," she began haltingly, "You were married."

I nodded.

She shook her head as if in disbelief and held up the letter. "You married in secret. She says here that you would explain why."

"Think of her and then look at me, Beata," I said. "My mother is younger than Dobrila and would have never approved of our relationship, let alone our marriage. Dobrila was also a little doubtful about your approval as well. So, we thought it best to marry in private at one of the wedding chapels here in the city."

Beata smiled sadly and nodded, "She's probably right, I probably would have tried to talk her out of marrying someone so young. I can only imagine what your mother would have thought."

She gave me an appraising look, "How old are you, if I may ask?"

"I'm twenty-two," I responded honestly. "Dobrila was twice my age."

Beata shook her head in mild disbelief. "It's a little unusual, to say the least, for couples to be so far apart in age. How did this all happen for you two?"

I shrugged, "We met on my first day as I moved into my apartment. Mine was the one directly across the hall from this one. We kind of hit it off right away, she was very friendly and easy to talk to. Later that day, she knocked on my door with a plate of homemade cookies as a welcome to the neighborhood gift. I mean, who does that kind of shit anymore in this day and age?"

Beata laughed and shook her head, "Only my siostra, I think."

"We talked for hours over coffee and cookies and I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to her. It was as if we had known each other for years. Anyway, after that day, we kept running into one another out in the hallway, I'd help her carry her groceries and take her garbage to the dumpster, things like that. She invited me for coffee and we got to know one another even more. I genuinely liked her, Beata, she always spoke to me with friendship and never talked down to me because I was so much younger.

"I fixed her leaking faucet one day and she rewarded me by inviting me to dinner. I hadn't eaten so well in months. Instead of sending me home with an extra plate of leftovers, she invited me to dinner the next night as well.

"We are...were...both big fans of the Jeopardy TV show and would watch it together after dinner when she would bring out her bottle of vodka."

Beata laughed, "She loved her vodka."

"We would talk long after the Jeopardy show and would make each other laugh a lot. We started a tradition of toasting the 'fucking bullshit' every night."

"The fucking bullshit?" Said Beata with a smile, "What the hell was that about?"

I nodded, "One night after Jeopardy, the news was on with some story about politics. She turned off the TV and scowled, saying politics was all just fucking bullshit.

"I had never heard her curse before and it made me smile. She asked me then about the phrase. She said, if fucking is having sex, and bullshit is excrement from a male cow, how can there be sex with cow excrement?"

Beata laughed aloud, "That sounds like her," she said.

"So, every night we would watch Jeopardy and toast the fucking bullshit. It became our little humorous tradition."

"So, you had more than just the two dinners together then?"

I nodded, "We had dinner together every night after that. I think she knew from seeing my kitchen that I lived very frugally. I barely made enough money to pay my rent, let alone groceries. Plus, she said she loved to cook but hated cooking just for herself and then eating alone."

"So, you became even better friends."

"The best of friends," I said with an emphatic nod. I think we were both just lonely and enjoyed each other's company."

"Were you... attracted to her, you know, in a physical way?"

"Oh, God, no," I said with a smile. "In the beginning, I paid her very little physical attention at all. At that time, I was all about Jennifer Lopez and Taylor Swift."

"But then?..." coaxed Beata with a teasing smile. "Because my sister was nothing like Jennifer Lopez or Taylor Swift."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It certainly didn't happen overnight--it was a slow and gradual process for me. But yes... I began to notice her physically. Before long, it became more of an infatuation, and I grew to truly appreciate her curvy, full figure and body shape."

"So then, what?" asked Beata when I paused. "You slept with her?"

I laughed and shook my head, "If only it had been that simple," I responded. "First of all, we were best friends and I never wanted to do or say anything to hurt that relationship. And also, our ages. I mean, she was a mature woman and I...well, I guess I felt like she would think me too young to be of interest to her."

"Understandable," nodded Beata.

"So, one night... actually, it was the night she was last in San Diego with you, she telephoned me so we could watch Jeopardy together."

Beata smiled, "That's sweet," she said.

"We both had a fair amount to drink..."

"Toasting the fucking bullshit?" She interrupted, smiling broadly.

"Exactly," I responded with a laugh. "Anyway, that night, I kind of let it slip that if I were ever to give up my virginity, I hoped it would be with someone like her."

"Wait... What? You were a virgin?" She asked her eyes wide with surprise.

I nodded and shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under her scrutiny. "I guess I was what you might call a late bloomer. Anyway, it was something she and I discussed when she got home, and once she realized I was serious about my feelings for her, she agreed to have sex with me."

"So, it was because of your friendship that she had sex with you?"

I nodded, "Because of our friendship, sure, I'm sure there was a bit of that factored into her decision. But she also said she missed having sex a great deal. She hadn't been with anyone since her husband died."

"Oh, my God!" Gasped Beata. "Are you serious? That was what?..."

"Twenty-two years ago," I said, filling in the end of her question.

"Good grief, I would have never suspected it. I guess I always assumed she had the occasional fling, like most women in her position. But, twenty-two years? Holy fuck."

I laughed aloud, "No pun intended, right?"

Beata's eyes widened as she realized what she had said and she too laughed, and then we were both laughing together.

"This is kind of how it was with Dobrila and me," I said. "We could be serious one minute and then make each other laugh uproariously the next. You and she are a lot alike that way."

"Thank you for telling me all this, Jimmy," she said. "I have a better understanding now of why the two of you excluded families at your wedding, and it eases my mind about it."

I nodded, pleased that she seemed to be taking everything so well.

"I can tell from the way you talk about her, that you really loved her," she said, setting aside her letter.

"Very much," I responded, hearing the crack in my voice as my eyes welled. Talking to Beata about her had brought back a flood of poignant memories and it was suddenly difficult to harness my emotions.

"Me too," sobbed Beata, tears running from her eyes.

Instinctively we moved together and, with our arms around each other shared a long moment of sorrow for her passing.

When we finally separated, each of us wiping our eyes, Beata shook her head. "I suppose I should probably go and check into the hotel before they give away my reservation."

"You are more than welcome to stay here, Beata," I responded quickly, wishing I had broached the subject earlier. "You can stay in her room, the room is yours for as long as you like. When I knew you were coming, I had the bedding cleaned and changed especially for your arrival."

She looked at me doubtfully and I continued.

"I am perfectly comfortable here on the sofa. I've been sleeping out here since her passing anyway. Having the TV on helps me sleep. So, please stay, and stay as long as you like. I'm fixing one of her favorite goulash recipes for dinner," I offered with a hopeful smile. "And there's a lot of vodka around here too."

Despite the somber mood of a few moments ago, Beata laughed, "No wonder she loved you, Jimmy. I think you're a treasure. And I would LOVE to stay here. it would actually mean a lot to me."

"Excellent!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together. I stood and offered her my hand. "Let me show you around the place and to your room."

She smiled broadly as we passed her little homage to Elvis Presley. "She so loved that guy," she said.

"You just wait," I said with a laugh, "I have wedding pictures that will really make you smile."

"With Elvis?" she gasped. "Please tell me you guys did a wedding with Elvis."

I laughed aloud, "This is Las Vegas, Beata. How could we do anything else? If only you could have seen her face when she contemplated it."

"I can certainly imagine it," she responded with a broad smile.

I showed her Dobrila's sewing room next and Beata marveled at the many dresses the many bolts of cloth, and her elaborate sewing machines. "God, she was so talented this way. When I was very young and we wore poor, she always found ways to make nice clothing to dress me for school."

"She even made her wedding dress," I added, pointing the dress out to her as it hung beside her other dresses.

"The bathroom is clean with fresh towels," I said as we continued the tour.

"Wonderful," she sighed appreciatively. "I SO want to get out of these clothes that I've worn for four days and have a shower."

"Well, it's all yours," I said with a smile. "The bedroom is at the end of the hall."

I grasped up her carry-on bag and her briefcase as I wheeled her suitcase into the bedroom.

"Oh," she said, looking around with a smile, "This is lovely. I can almost see her everywhere I look."

"Tell you what," I smiled. "I'll leave you to shower and change while I look after my goulash I have simmering in the slow cooker."

"Thank you, Jimmy," she responded with moisture in her eyes. "All this really means a lot to me."

She embraced me warmly and, not unlike Dobrila's body, I couldn't help but sense and acknowledge her femininity.

I couldn't help but think about her as I puttered about in the kitchen and heard the shower come on in the bathroom. And, no, while I could absolutely take note of and appreciate her physical beauty, in my mind, any thoughts of Beata other than platonic were completely off-limits.

I hoped to impress her with my cooking and took care to select the perfect bottle of wine for dinner and set the table with a touch of intimacy, not romantic intimacy, but just a comfortable ambiance.

When the shower stopped, she surprised me by sticking her head into the kitchen, her body wrapped in a towel with her hair still wet. "Is it all right if I just wear my pajamas to dinner? Most of my things need laundering?"

"Of course," I responded, "Please make yourself completely at home here. And put any clothes you need washed aside and I'll run them down to the laundry room for you."

Just as I was pouring the wine, she entered the kitchen wearing a pretty pink pajama set. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a ponytail that accentuated the beauty of her face, which was completely without makeup.

"Sorry I look so slovenly," she said as she took the glass of wine from my hand. "But you DID say to make myself at home."

I laughed, "Trust me, Beata. I think most women I know would kill to look half as good as your version of slovenly."

"Why thank you, kind sir," she said, raising her glass to me. "Dinner smells heavenly."

Everything was prepared, so we seated ourselves at the table. The dinner was a resounding success. I had used the same goulash recipe Dobrila had made the day she returned home from San Diego, and Beata couldn't stop lavishing praise. I was exceptionally pleased, if I do say so myself.

Much like Dobrila, I found Beata to be a wonderful conversationalist. When the topic turned to business, she again complimented me on the job I had done so far."

I thanked her. "But, listen," I continued. "Regarding the business. I was every bit as blindsided by Dobrila making me the beneficiary of her business partnership with you, as I am sure you were too. And I want you to know that if you are even the slightest bit uncomfortable with that arrangement, I will be happy to step aside for someone else."

Her eyes widened and she shook he head vehemently. "Not on your life," she said, reaching out to place her hand over mine. "There is no one on earth I would rather have as a partner. My sister has always been a great judge of character, and her endorsement is all I need to know. I think I can already tell that we'll work well together, can't you?"

I nodded and smiled, pleased that she was happy to be partnered with me. "I'll do my best for you and the company," I said. "But I will rely on you for any major business decisions and I'll be as supportive as I can be."

Beata smiled and patted my hand. Suddenly her eyes widened, "Would it be okay if you and I watch Jeopardy together tonight?"

I laughed and looked at the clock, we had five minutes before the program was to begin. "Absolutely," I said, "let's retire to the living room."