“This is the spot, pull in here please.”
It rose up inside of him. He hadn’t expected it. Just the mere sight.
“15… no 16 years. It’s been 16 years.”
The Town Car halted in the shadows of the banner. He remembered hanging it. The neon would show them all. He did it for her.
And the day she brought it up. That was the day, the very day, she surrendered to the thought of it. Never to be a mother. Too many years trying. All into the restaurant, she thought. All into the restaurant.
He had a good job. Did not want to leave it be, but this was everything to Mary.
Overlooking the lake. People still vacationed at the lake in those days. And it gave her life, year after year, seeing them grow up. Auntie they called her, growing up to teen years then off toward their lives.
He saw their faces there in the shadow of the banner he once hung. The banner that bore the title she loved. The life she grew to accept.
He missed it. He missed her.