The Last Hat

Miriam stood before the mirror in her bedroom, the black velvet hat perched on her silver hair like a crow deciding to rest. It had been Thomas's hat, and now it was hers—a bequest from a friend who'd died before either of them had been ready to let go.

The cat wound around her ankles, demanding breakfast. Thomas's cat, now hers. Arthur had never liked her much, but loss had a way of making even the prickliest creatures suddenly pliable.

"You'll have to bear with me," Miriam told the cat, setting down fresh kibble. "I'm not as good at this as he was."

At 73, Miriam had thought she was too old for grief to knock the wind out of her. She'd buried a husband, a sister, three friends. But Thomas had been different—Thomas, with his collection of ridiculous hats and his terrible jokes and his way of showing up with wine when she'd forgotten how to laugh.

They'd met at a disastrous book club forty years ago, both of them too shy to speak, both of them secretly watching each other from across the circle of strangers. Later, over lukewarm coffee, they'd admitted they'd only come because their husbands had insisted. Neither marriage had survived the decade. Their friendship had.

Now the apartment echoed with the things Thomas had left behind. Boxes sorted into KEEP, DONATE, THROW AWAY. The task was endless, Sisyphean. She'd been at it for three weeks.

The hat itched. Thomas had hated it too, but he'd worn it to his niece's wedding because "a hat makes a man feel like he's playing a part, and I'm playing the part of the distinguished uncle."

He'd played the part beautifully. He'd gotten drunk, told stories about Miriam from their wilder years, and somehow charmed the bride's stern father-in-law into paying for the open bar.

Miriam took off the hat and placed it on the KEEP pile. On top of the photograph of the two of them in Rome, young and tan and hungover, toasting the camera with plastic cups of wine.

Arthur jumped onto the sofa and began kneading the cushion, purring like a small engine. Miriam sat beside him, the apartment settling around her, and finally allowed herself to cry.