Epilogue

JANUARY 2020

"Hey it's Johanna Osment, I'm not here at the moment, but leave a message after the tone, and I'll get back to you…" the machine clicked.

"Hey Johanna, it's Brian…can you call-"

"Hey stranger…." Johanna greeted cheerily as she picked up the phone gingerly.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Brian asked with concern in his southern drawl.

"Eh, no. no, I was just typing up something" Johanna assured. "It's just that these damned legs aren’t what they used to be." she commented self-consciously as she looked down at her frail legs which began shaking a little. "That's what happens when you grow old" she joked lightly.

"Johanna, you're not old!" Brian protested, as he laughed good naturedly, bringing a smile to her face. "But you're still writing for that column?" his voice asked incredulously.

"No, no, I'm writing my novel now" she replied. "Don't worry, I'll dedicate it to your Mama, and you…" she began to assure him.

"And Papa" he reminded as he cut in a little sadness dropping in his voice. "Speaking of my Papa, I was wondering if you were free this weekend… Mama wants you to come up to Lexington his year for his annual memorial" he drawled on in his southern accent. "Uncle Kev, Uncle Howie, Uncle Alex and my bro Nick will all be there" he added in excitement.

"My bro Nick?" Johanna repeated as she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Brian, honey, did he tell you to call him that?" she laughed as she imagined the middle aged blonde dressed in baggy jeans and a New York Knicks jersey.

"But he is my bro!" Brian protested, in innocent confusion.

Johanna laughed, shaking her head.

"You're growing up to be just like your father…. just as naive but just as sweet" she teased as memories of Brian came flooding back.

"Everyone says that these days... man…." Brian continued in frustration.

"Okay, tell your Mama to count me in; I'll be there whether it's rain or shine" she confirmed warmly.

"Great, I'll tell her… she's gunna be so happy to see you!" he cried as he bid farewell to Johanna and hung up the phone.

Hopping into the white upholstered armchair she switched on her black laptop as her fingers began to tap on the keys ever so slightly to churn out the novel's first words, just as a light rain began to fall.

On some days, I think it'll be okay….

-The End-