He looked at Patty. „I suppose it’s a sad book?“
„It’s not. At least I didn’t think so.“ Patty thought about this. She said, „It made me feel better, it made me feel much less alone.“
Charlie shook his head. „Oh no. No, we’re always alone.“
For quite a while they sat in companionable silence with the sun beating down on them. Then Patty said, „We’re not always alone.“
Charlie turned to look at her. He said nothing.
„Can I ask you?“ Patty said. „Did people think my husband was strange?“
Charlie waited a moment, as though considering this. „Maybe. I’m the last person here to know what people think. Sebastian seemed to me to be a good man. In pain. He was in pain.“
„Yuh. He was.“ Patty nodded.
Charlie said, „I’m sorry about that.“
„I know you are.“ The sun splashed brightly against the blue house.
After many moments had gone by, Charlie turned again to look at her. He opened his mouth as though about to say something, but then he shook his head and closed his mouth once more. Patty felt––without knowing what it was––that she understood what he was going to say.
She touched his arm just briefly, and in the sun they sat.
📖 elizabeth strout, anything is possible