Ping

"It's been so long. Why did we ever stop getting together?"

"Life.  I'm glad I ran into you, though. How are you handling the loss of your dad? I know it only just happened and I would like to be with you, so that you don't have to go through all the planning alone. Would that be alright?"

"Yes!" She fell into his arms and wept unashamed. He held her until she was done. She was grateful for his patience. Her strength had been sapped. She couldn't stand without his help.

He had her hang on his arm as they walked to a nearby restaurant. Without his knowing, he had picked out her favorite one. It was the place that she and her father would visit during their dates. It had become their custom, meet once a month for father-daughter day. 

As she sat, waiting for her camomile tea, heartwarming memories paraded past their table. James held her hand smiling. "Good memories?' 

She didn't want to cry again. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she smiled. "Yes."

***

After the burial, she walked calmly to the limo. She had lost track of James, imagining him talking to everyone. Being encouraging to others, as he had been these past four days to her. She was grateful for all of the tireless flurries in helping her with everything funeral related. She knew that none of it would have been done without him. Everyone was so sad at the loss of her dad.

***

At the wake, she sat next to her mom. An old photo album was on her lap.

"Mom, I didn't know that you knew James."

"Who? That's me and your father on our first anniversary forty years ago. We went to Aruba. It was lovely."

They say that everyone has a twin.

The phone pinged.

"Sorry I couldn't be there..."

She dropped her phone. James never made it to the funeral.