As with all good things, the career of Mr. Johnson was coming to an end. Good as he was with his work, time takes its toll on us all, and it was time for him to retire.

“Do you have to leave?” A friendly voice came from his friend. He put down his half a ham and cheese sandwich before he could get a bite and sighed. Ms. Carlyle was a kind person. She wore a floral blouse and looked her age at fifty-five. She had gorgeous laugh lines, not quite hidden behind some cat-eye glasses. “Ms. Cat”, the students had taken to calling her. Partly due to her love of the adorable animals, and partly because of her glasses, which framed her face perfectly and gave off a mysterious and playful air. Mr. Johnson couldn’t help but to love this short, small woman sitting across from him.

“It’s time, I think. I’m getting on in years, and I worry that I won’t be able to keep up with my students any longer if I stay.”

“Pish!” came a delightful noise from Ms. Carlyle. “Posh!” she continued. “You don’t look a day over sixty-five, and you can still beat me at Parcheesi every time.”

It was true. Mr. Johnson was an avid hiker, choosing to spend almost every free day he had in the mountains, which sat a mere twenty-five miles away from the school grounds. “Reach out and touch 'em mountains” he had called them. That, coupled with his relatively stress-free life, managed to keep his youth much longer than his peers. When asked for his secrets, he would always give glib answers like “a glass of wine a day!” or “fun, and lots of it”. But the way his bones ached in the morning told him it was time for a change of pace.

“I think it’s just time” Came Mr. Johnson’s reply. He surprised himself at how forlorn he sounded. He realized for the hundredth time just how much he loved the cat-like person sitting across from him at the staff lunch tables. But what could he do? He already was turned down three times before, maybe once more?

“I wonder—” Mr. Johnson started, but was cut off shortly after.

“I won’t push any further, then.” Came Ms. Carlyle’s response. She seemed unaware of the gravity of the question she just cut off. “But I want you to know that you’ll be greatly missed here, and not just by the students. You’ve been an excellent aid and friend to all the staff here.”

Mr. Johnson just smiled, taking the hint that she knew full well that she interrupted another one of his confessions and wanted to let him down easy. Well, it’s not like he didn’t try one last time. “I know, Cathy. I’m going to miss everyone here as well. Especially you though, you’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had, and I mean that literally.”

“Really?” She said, mocking surprise. “But you have so many friends?”

“Har har” came a sardonic reply. They both knew that Mr. Johnson wasn’t the most social person, but it wasn’t like he had no friends, she just happened to be the best.

Silence fell between the two friends. It wasn’t the uncomfortable silence that came from the awkwardness of a hard pause in a conversation, but the soft, soothing quiet that came with two people who were just so close to each other that they didn’t need words. They could just exist in the same room with each other and that was fine. They finished their early afternoon lunch in happy peace and quiet, for the last time.

◊◊◊

“So… What do you think you’ll do with your retirement?” Ms. Carlyle asked. The final school day was done and over with and the last of the children had already gone home. The buses all pushed off from shore one last time before they were to take their long summer break in the sheds on the outskirts of the school property.

“I’ll be checking up on my brother. I’m sure he’s terribly lonely without any of his other family around to care for him.” Came the reply. They were walking together and had already crossed the threshold of the school grounds. Neither owned a car, both having lucked into a nice house within walking distance of the school. They chose to walk together back home; both having lived in the same direction.

“You know, you’ve mentioned your brother a few times, but I don’t think I ever caught his name.”

Mr. Johnson winced at that, but quickly schooled his response. “Art” he said, “His name’s Art.”

Ms. Carlyle, ever the quick-witted, took note of the response. He could see the smirk play on the corner of her lips, and her laugh-lines became a little more pronounced. Mr. Johnson swore that if she had cat ears, they’d be at full attention, belying her soon-to-be pounce. “Oho ho, is that a touch of regret, I hear? I thought the great Mr. Jay didn’t have any regrets?”

Mr. Johnson smiled despite himself. Her gleeful attitude played on his emotions, as well as a harpist, strummed her instrument. “Yes. It was. We were never close later in life, but…” he trailed off. Somehow, his walking partner’s bubbly attitude overwrote whatever gloomy thoughts he was about to have about his black sheep of a little brother. With the good moments they had together, and true joy came to his voice as he recounted some of their past exploits.

“We got into loads of trouble when we were younger.” He continued. “One time we both stole my father’s vehicle and managed to drive it halfway down the block before we lost control and drove it right into the ditch. He had goaded me into the deed, as he always had managed to convince me somehow that whatever harebrained scheme he had cooked up was a good idea. We were so scared of what my father was going to do. But when he saw that all that happened with the car was a small crack in the radiator, he just laughed at us and made us do the repairs ourselves.” Mr. Johnson laughed a true laugh, remembering just how scared and then how relieved he was to get away with such a light punishment from his otherwise strict father. “That was the first time I worked on a car. Luckily, it was a much older model. I don’t think I’d be able to do something like that on today’s fancy machines, with how small they build the engine compartments these days.”

Ms. Carlyle lost her playfulness. Like a cat that caught a chew toy, it wasn’t so much fun anymore now that the object of her attention was already a trophy won and no longer fought back. Instead, what replaced the emotion was similar happiness, both seemingly playing off each other to make a very lighthearted last day walk home.

“You must really love your brother.”

“I do. I really do. I hope he’s okay.”

Quiet passed between them again, but this time an energy came between them. Mr. Johnson assumed she had something important to say and gave her the breath and space to take her time saying it. After a while, she broke the silence.

“Matt.” she said. Oh, this was serious. The tone she’d used belied that fact. “I have something to confess.”

“If you’d rather not, I can tell you that whatever slight you think you may have made is already forgiven.” He said quickly and honestly.

“It’s not that, and I think it’s important you know.” She said, taking a deep breath as if to prepare herself. “I’m gay, Matt.”

“Oh.” Was all he replied. Well, that made sense why she always rebuffed his advances over the years. “Okay”. He continued.

“I’m truly sorry.” She said in a small voice. For the first time since he knew her, she looked sad. He hated this look on her, the way she wrung her hands as if to wipe off some misdeed that stained her skin.

“Please, don’t be. It’s not like you can help who you love. And I want you to know that, even though we could never be more than friends, I’ve found these past fifteen years with you an absolute delight. A balm, even,” came his sincere reply. He wanted nothing more than to lift the spirits of his dearest friend, his own feelings be damned. Did he hurt? Sure. But he damn well won’t show it to her.

“You’re kind, Mr. Jay.” She said, a little happier, but clearly picking up on his internal hurt despite how well he thought he had masked it. Perhaps a little slipped through his tone.

“Well, I mean it, sincerely.” He reassured his friend as he walked her up to her front door from the school for the last time. “I have my own confession. I’ll be moving by the end of summer.” He said, suddenly coming to the decision.

“What do you mean?” Ms. Carlyle said, tilting her head slightly.

“Just that. My brother can’t care for himself, so I'll go to him to help. I’ll be selling my house this summer, but I promise to visit every day.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, old friend.”

“I’ll keep it.” Was all he replied.