Behind the Last Window

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

At least, the world outside of what her life had become.

This wasn't the life she thought she would live.

She thought the window in her bedroom would be the place she stood as she ever so patiently awaited her husband's return from work with the kids or the frame through which they would watch the sunrise together on the weekends as they wake up slowly, wrapped up in each other.

She thought this window would give the outside world a glance into a life most would envy. It wasn't about the size of the house, the cars parked in the driveway, or how often they may pack up for a vacation, which had not happened in years. It was about what the world would see unfolding inside; a family that finds joy in connecting in the little moments.

Hannah thought this window held the view of everything she didn't have before she met Dalton.

Instead, it's the glass pane she gets lost in as she wonders how the life, she dreamed of became what it has.

He goes to bed just as her night begins and leaves for work before the sun rises. Most days, they share only a kiss she half-remembers because it happens before she wakes. When he returns from work, she's there, with dinner on the table and as much of a smile on her face as she can muster. No matter what the day brought her way, she would find a way to make him a hot meal each night. Dalton was always appreciative of this, but he didn't seem to notice that his wife's smile was fading day by day. Hannah reasoned that he was just too tired from working hard for them to notice, but lately, she wonders if that was her way of convincing herself it wasn't simply because he didn't care enough to notice.

On the weekends, when she previously hoped they'd make up for the lost time in the week, he splits his time between sleep and the project he's been working on in the garage since the summer of 2019. They walk into church together on Sunday mornings, smiling ear-to-ear. If anyone paused long enough to look through the windows of her eyes, they may see the vacancy she feels.

The children she imagined would enjoy the view through the window with her don't yet exist. Though they both discussed wanting children, she's afraid to bring kids into a home with a father who is present and absent all at the same time.

That is one more thought she ponders as she stares blankly at the window in her bedroom, often with tear drops rolling down her cheeks. She's expressed her heart to Dalton countless times all to settle back into the same lonely rhythms she was desperately trying to change.

Once she peels herself off the bedside, she starts her day. Hot tea followed by a quick read and a phone to check in with either her mother or a friend before heading out the door. Hannah enjoys letting others know they are thought of.

She enjoys her work. In fact, in the absence of other things she previously hoped for, she focuses greatly on them. She finds comfort in being someone families rely on to comfort and cares for their loved ones. She's found that the silver lining from her clients' hair graces their words as well, and Hannah gladly soaks in the wisdom they offer, oftentimes without realizing it.

Most recently, Mr. Everett shared a story with her about his marriage to his late wife Georgia. The conversation went something like this:

"You know... sometimes I wonder how my Georgia loved me so long. We were married 54 years before she passed away. Can you believe that? 54 years."

Hannah smiled and gently nodded her head, and she answered what was likely intended to be a rhetorical question, "You know what? I can!"

Mr. Everett continued, "Yeah, she was a good woman, my Georgia. Too good to me..." He shook his head as he was seemingly remembering something he may have wished to forget.

"After the kids moved out, she would tell me how nice it would be if we went out on the town one night, just so we could unwind and get out of the ordinary routine. I kept telling her we would go, but I was always busy with something else."

As Hannah prepared Mr. Everett's lunch, she inserted, "Well, that's okay Mr. Everett, life gets busy, right?" She was silently relating to his impromptu story a little more than she wanted to.

Mr. Everett acknowledged what Hannah said with a quick head nod, but then continued, "I noticed tears in her eyes some Sunday evenings as we fell asleep. She'd never tell me what was wrong.

Eventually, she just stopped talking about wanting to go out on the town."

Hannah, unsure of what to say, stopped preparing his lunch for a moment and took a seat next to him.

"One day I came home expecting to smell something good cooking for dinner as always...my woman could surely cook... but you know what I found?"

Hannah, trying to force a smirk to break through her introspection, answers, "Something not-so-good cooking?"

Mr. Everett chuckled briefly and quietly before he became as straight-faced as she'd ever seen him. He responded in a contemplative fashion, "No... no. That would've been better than what I found. I found my sweet wife in our bedroom, sitting on our bed, staring out the window with dried tears on her cheeks."

He paused before adding, "Cheeks I hadn't taken the time to kiss as I used to in probably days."

Hannah was gazing at Mr. Everett, now hanging on every word he uttered.

"That night, I learned that when a woman's tears dry, it's because she has no more left to give. I had stolen all her tears with my carelessness and still expected her to care for me... in ways it took me until after she passed to realize I did not deserve."

The silence of the moment lingered as the light from the afternoon sun caused a subtle glare on the kitchen windows.

Mr. Everett, a man who rarely interrupted their laughter to share much of anything, let alone something so personal, seemed both disturbed and relieved that he had just said all he said. He glanced over at Hannah, almost apologetically, and in an attempt to lighten the mood said, "Boy, after all that talking I am ready for that lunch you made."

She let a smile break through as a single tear rolled off her cheek. Hannah placed Mr. Everett's lunch on the table and quickly looked away to wipe her cheek. She did not want to make him feel bad for sharing a story that she quickly realized she needed to hear.

But if the years had taught him anything, it was how to read a woman's tears. He offered her this advice before taking a sip of his lukewarm coffee, "Sweetie, sometimes it's ok to let the tears dry. Sometimes you need to be reminded why they fell to begin with."

Hastily, Hannah began washing the dishes as she responded, "Well thank you, Mr. Everett, it was sweet of you to share that with me."

What nobody, especially Mr. Everett, knew is that Hannah would be on her way to see James after she finished with Mr. Everett.

James noticed her tears.

He was the son of an elderly woman Hannah cared for until she was put on hospice. James had been divorced for nearly nine years and had been focusing on caring for his mother for the last two years. Since work was requiring him to travel more often, he hired Hannah to stop in three times a week to both be a companion, and ensure she was safe. One Sunday when she was there preparing meals for the week, James stopped in. He picked quite a moment to drop by as Hannah had tears streaming from her eyes when he walked into the kitchen. Before she left to care for Mrs. Elrich, she realized Dalton had still not finished repairing the kitchen table as he promised he would nearly six weeks ago. And she realized this at noon, while he was still sleeping after she returned home from church alone.

He quickly addressed her, asking if she was okay. Though Hannah tried to wipe her tears away, he was persistent about being a listening ear for her. She was so unaccustomed to someone caring this way that she shared the reasons for her tears as he patiently listened and offered words of encouragement.

It seemed that from then on, James would stop in on Sunday afternoons while Hannah was there. They would talk as they shared the responsibility of caring for his mother. It was innocent and refreshing. They had both needed companionship more than they had realized and embraced the opportunity to connect, even on the most trivial things.

After Mrs. Enrich passed away, Hannah and James agreed to keep seeing each other on Sunday afternoons because they didn’t want to lose touch. Hannah never shared with Dalton that Mrs. Enrich died, she just kept leaving at the same time each week, only she was driving to James’ home instead. One week, Dalton had to travel for work so he would not be home until Tuesday evening. That Sunday evening, Hannah did not leave James when she normally would. She stayed.

They enjoyed the extended time. They often spent it cooking, watching movies, and exchanging stories about their childhoods and dreams for the future. There was nothing physical about their relationship, which was the interesting thing. Everything they most craved about each other was the emotional connection they shared.

They enjoyed it so much that Hannah told Dalton she had just taken on her first overnight client and would be out on Sunday evenings for the foreseeable future. He didn’t seem to think much of it. He just used the time to invite a few friends over to watch sports or play cards. This went on for about six months.

One Monday night, Dalton came home from work and found the kitchen lights turned off. This was unusual, so he headed upstairs to look for his wife. He found her sitting on the edge of their bed, gazing out the window. What he couldn’t see were dried tracks of her tears on her cheeks.

He leaned against the doorway and stood there in silence for a moment before quietly, waiting to be acknowledged before he walked back downstairs.

That was last Monday night.

That was before Hannah realized the indifference that made a home in her marriage. That was before Hannah walked into James’ house and kissed him like she was asking him forever with her lips. That was before James embraced her in a way that made her feel like she never wanted him to let go.

Today is Wednesday. She hasn’t left James’ home yet. In fact, she is sitting on the edge of his bed, gazing out the window as she waits for him to get home from work. When he found her there, he greeted her with a hug and said, “Hey you. Want to tell me about your day over dinner tonight?”

The smile that immediately formed on her face felt foreign to her. She quietly responded, “Well that sounds lovely.” A tear or two formed in her eyes at the same time. These were different tears, though. These tears felt like the hurt of the past escaping to make room for the love that was waiting for her here, with him.

As James walked into the bathroom to shower before they left, the sun hit the window and shined into the room. She wiped the tears from her eyes before they had a chance to dry.

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

And it looks like the life she always dreamed of was waiting for her here.