Autumn's Rose

Simon had always loved fall. The sound of the bristling wind against the leaves that surrounded the cemetery ground, reminded him of that. Taking him away from the soreness he felt in his chest. He could hear the words coming from the priest, yet they did not elicit any reaction from him. His friend was gone. No words would bring him back.

As the casket lowered into the ground, the feeling of loss intensified. He turned away and rose his hand to brush away the tears that had filled his face. A few plots away, he saw a woman watching the proceedings. Their eyes caught, filling his mind with questions. One thing he could be sure of, the pain in her eyes mirrored his own.

“Mr. Thibs.” He turned away from the woman at the sound of his name.

“Yes.” He replied, not entirely recognizing the sound of his own voice.

“My name is Julius Hart.” The man in a tailored suit told him handing him a card. “I was left in charge of Ryan’s estate. Would you please call my office when you are ready? We have a lot to cover.”

“Such as?” he asked, feeling every bit of his 18 years.

“Ryan reworked his will during his final weeks. He left everything to you.” Julius said before starring away as the grave finished its descend. “Call me, son.” He told the young man, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. As he walked away, Simon read the card. Remembering the woman from earlier, he sought her once more, only to realize she had already left. The heaviness in his heart could not keep him from wondering who she might be.

A few days had passed since the funeral. Simon found himself sitting in a beautifully decorated office. Clearly, Julius Hart had done well for himself. The grey haired lawyer sat across from him at a large mahogany desk that seemed to create a gulf of space between the two. He wondered if that was intentional as he watched the older man read legalese. A quick look from the lawyer to Simon let him know he was losing him.

“Too technical?” He asked with an easy smile, leaning further down into his seat.

“Just a bit.” Simon replied, allowing himself to relax.

“I’m sorry.” Julius told him earnestly. “These readings are never easy. Sometimes it is easier to….to just be the lawyer. This time especially.” He added.

“Why this time?” Simon asked curiously. “Did you know him?”

“Know him?” Julius chuckled. ”Ryan and I had been friends further back than either of us could remember.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. You must miss him.” Simon said feeling every bit of that weight. Julius stood from his desk and walked around it to sit in the chair beside the 18 year old.

“To be honest, Ryan had not been Ryan for many years. He locked himself in that house and tuned out the entire world. He continued to write, but his work no longer had the heart that had made him such a household name. To the people who knew him, it wasn’t just the work that had lost heart.”

“What happened to him?” Simon wondered.

“No one knows.” Julius offered with a shake of his head. “He was different the last time I saw him.”

“When was that?”

“The day he came to add you to his will.” Julius confessed, his eyes seeming worn and tired. “He really did seem like his old self. With a joy I hadn’t seen in years.” The two stayed silent. The moment filled with the memory of a man that meant so much to both of them. “It was you.” Julius said standing up once more and walking back to his desk.

“What do you mean?” Simon asked.

“Spending time with you, reading your work. It gave him that passion that he had lost all those years ago.” The weathered lawyer opened his top desk drawer, pulling out an envelope and a set of keys. “I think he felt more alive these last few months with you, then he had in many years.” He walked back towards the young teen handing him both items. “I believe that is why he left you this.”

Simon opened the envelope and found a heartfelt note from a man he had only known a short while. He felt tears swell in him once more.

“He’s leaving me his house.” Simon exclaimed, thinking of the two-story home next to the one he and his mother lived in.

“That’s not all.” Julius said tapping the back of the letter.

“$20.000!” The young man exclaimed seeing the check with his name. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“I wouldn’t be the one to ask. But Ryan always used to say that money isn’t important.” Julius began.

“What you do with it is.” Simon finished for him.

“Seems as though he left you more than just money and a house.” Julius chuckled. Simon stood preparing to leave. “If you ever need anything, never hesitate to ask. My door will always be open.”

“Thank you Mr. Hart.” Simon said.

“Call me Julius please. As far as I am concerned, you are family to me. Thank you…for what you’ve done for my friend.”

“I didn’t do much.” The boy said.

“You did…more than you’ll ever know.”

A few days later, Simon pushed through the door of the empty house he had inherited. Walking inside, he immediately recognized the scent of the older man who had been like a father to him during his final days. He walked slowly through the halls as he had so many times before. Memories flooding his senses in waves. In the kitchen, he found the baseball that had begun his journey with the once famous writer. He dared not think of where he would be today had he not accidentally thrown it through the window. He smiled at the thought of how angry Ryan was that day.

“All bark.” Simon said walking up the stairs. As he walked towards the reason for his entrance into the house, he thought about how true those words were. Ryan at first had seemed so much larger than life. The mean old man at the end of the street. It took months for Ryan to realize that it was all just for show. A form of protection against the harshness of the world. During their time together, Simon had only ever seen him truly upset once. The day he tried to enter the very door standing before him.

Simon had reached for the knob only to be chastised by Ryan. He thought he would never be allowed back in the house. There was no one to stop him now as the knob turned. Entering the room, he was shocked to discover his mentor’s secret. He had no idea what to expect, but surely not an office. A large desk filled up most of the room. On it an old typewriter. Simon realized that this is where his friend wrote.

Looking around the room, he found every single one of the novels he had written. From when he was an upcoming New York Times Bestseller, to when his star had begun to lose its luster. He sat behind the desk and felt what the writer must have felt. Simon reached for the top desk drawer. In it, there was a simple black notebook. As he opened it, a photo slipped through the pages and landed on the desk. Picking it up, he recognized a much younger Ryan, holding a beautiful young woman. The woman looked familiar to Simon, yet he could not place her. He looked at the back of the photo and found only one word written neatly. Rose.

He returned his eyes to the pages of the notebook. A swell of emotion rose in the young man’s chest as he read the beautiful words found between the lines of the book. Words of beauty, love, and loss reached out to him in ways that he had never experienced. Another look at the picture reminded him where and when he had seen those eyes.

After finding Rose’s address in Ryan’s notes, Simon quickly made his way towards her house. It was a beautiful fall day, the type he had always enjoyed. On his way to her home, he took a detour through a park. As he enjoyed the crisp weather, he was surprised to find sitting on a bench reading a book, the same woman from the funeral. He could see the resemblance from the woman in the picture taken decades ago. As he approached, he smiled realizing that she was reading one of Ryan’s novels. An older one, released during the heights of his career.

“We don’t get to choose the things that fix us. The things that make us whole.” He quoted from the book startling the woman. As she lowered the book and recognized the face of the young man, a soft smile broke through her features.

“I see that good literature is not completely lost on your generation.” She responded.

“Some of us need more than two hundred and forty characters to get a point across.” He shot back sitting on the bench next to her.

“How did you find me?” The woman asked.

“Ryan left me... well... He left me everything. I went to his house today. Going through his things. And I found this.” He explained lifting the notebook for her to see. He handed it to her and watched as she opened the book and saw her name written dozens of times across the pages. Each new letter beginning with Dear Rose.

“You must have meant a great deal to him.” She finally said. “To leave you everything.”

“He meant even more to me. He’s ….He was, a good man.”

“So are you.” Rose said with a wry smile. “I see a lot of you in him.” This made Simon blush as the pair enjoyed a moment of silence. A closer look at Rose’s hands, now gripping tightly onto the notebook, showed a beautiful diamond wedding ring.

“What kept you apart?” He asked unsurely.

“Oh, things that seemed so important once upon a time.” Rose began. “On days like today, you realize that few things are as important as you believe them to be. Yet certain things... things, people or places that you took for granted, now seem to mean the whole world.” She took a beat, seeming to be lost in a beautiful memory. “What will you do now? With what he’s left you?” She asked him returning to the present moment.

“I’ve never been anywhere.” He responded. “I was going through the house and saw pictures of Ryan all around the world. I want to experience that.”

“Ryan would love that.” Rose said. Simon chuckled knowing that she was right. “I need to get going.” She said collecting her things. “Thank you for this. I can’t ever thank you enough.” With a smile, she turned on her heels and left the park. Simon stayed seated on the bench. He thought of his friend who had given him so much. He would never forget him. He had no idea where his journey would take him, but he promised himself that every year, he would return to visit Ryan’s grave.