My Dear Watson (39 page)

With that established, and knowing as I’m sure you do that I am an honest and honorable woman, I must insist that you not let the waning years go by without visiting our home again. Though it may be uncomfortable for you and I, it gives pain to Watson that he does not deserve to have a life so divided between two people. While someone like yourself might be accustomed to wearing many hats, it is not and never has been Watson’s talent. We must not keep him apart like this.

I hear a sound behind me, and thinking it is Maurice I cover the letter with my hand, ignoring the wet ink on the page. I may have to write it again if it is too horribly smudged, or else Holmes will probably deduce I was interrupted while writing something I could not trust to just anyone.

But it is not Maurice who moves in the house, it is Watson. Red-eyed, but refreshed and smiling, he comes to put his hands on my shoulders. He kisses my forehead and I discover that he has rinsed his face, for his mustache is wet. I ask him how he is doing just as he asks me the same question. We both start laughing, and in the outburst I turn my letter over casually, so that he will not see.

“I suppose I am too vulnerable these days, nerves still jangled, but I’ve pulled myself together now.”

“I’m all right as well, darling,” I tell him. “I really did manage to have a satisfying evening.”

Watson smiles. “Perhaps this should be the end of it though, don’t you think?” I nod my agreement, and Watson suggests we go up to sleep.

“I will follow you, I only want to finish a small bit of personal business.”

Watson nods unsuspectingly, pats both of my shoulders, and goes creaking up the stairs again. Of course he’ll be all right, but I want better than that for him. I want him to have an ideal balance. I want us both to have all that we can of our pasts in a place where the memories live and breathe. I turn back to finish my letter.

We owe enough to Watson in appreciation for his kind acceptance, his nurturing hands, his unceasing faith, to make an effort on his behalf. I am calling on you to do your part for him, to come to him when he wants, and I in turn will do all I can to receive you. If it is the least we ever accomplish, to achieve these barest standards of civility and tolerance, it will yet be enough to bring a smile to the face of our dear Watson.

About the Author

L
.
A
.
F
IELDS
is the author of
The Disorder Series
, published by Rebel Satori Press. Her work has been featured in
Wilde Stories 2009
,
Best Gay Romance 2010
and the Bram Stoker Award-winning
Unspeakable Horror: From the Shadows of the Closet
. She lives in Chicago, IL.