“I don’t know what to say.”

“Sure you do.”

“But Janie, this time is different.”

“Understood. I get that.”

“It’s harder. It’s personal.”

“It’s always personal,” Janie replied. “You’ve told me that multiple times. Everything ever written is personal. And the more personal, the better the result.”

“But this time is different.”

“Nathan, you’re repeating yourself. Verbatim, for God’s sake. Not a good look for an accomplished writer.”

Nathan chuckled under his breath. When needed, Janie knew how to really stick it to him without ever pissing him off.

“Where should I start?”

“At the beginning, silly.” Janie paused, then asked, “Have you not started? You’ve had plenty of time to write this.”

“No, I haven’t. Well, I have. I’ve tried. A bunch of times. But work got in the way. You know, Dad was ill. The kids, the kids always needed something. And this.”

“What a cliche of bullshit excuses. At least have the decency to lie to me. Tell me you were abducted by aliens. Tell me you’ve been sneaking out at night. Don’t tell me you’ve been procrastinating. After all these years, am I finally witnessing mediocrity?”

There, she said it. The one thing that irked him most. The only thing in life he truly feared - being mediocre. Ignored, fine. Unsuccessful, fine. Ugly, fat, and balding, fine. But never, ever mediocre. Nathan quickly realized what card Janie had just played.

“Maybe you should write it for me? Nathan sarcastically replied. “You seem to have a flair for stringing together words that trigger.”

Janie smiled, but didn’t take the procrastinator’s bait. Instead, she felt the gravity of the situation. It was happening. She saw the strain on Nathan’s face and realized that this project had grown more difficult than anticipated when it was first discussed. She considered suggesting that Nathan pass. Hand it off to another. But then she had another idea.

“A ghost writer?” Nathan exclaimed.

“Pseudo ghost,” Janie replied. “You’ll still write it, but we’ll collaborate. I’ll help you out. Besides you, who knows the subject matter better than me? No one. Plus, I can fill in the holes. If you miss something, I’m there with my fully-loaded shovel of memories. If you get stuck, I’ll unstuck you. Just like old times. Remember? We really should have thought of this sooner.”

It had been a while, but Nathan flashed on her ‘unstucking’ methods, as she once called them. He grinned as he looked at his wife. He could tell that they were reliving the same experience.

“Okay. Deal. But just to confirm, I get full credit,” Nathan joked. “Mother-in-law brownie points are still worth something.”

***

After an hour or so, Nathan and Janie finished the first draft and celebrated with a low five. During the spit and polish, Janie encouraged Nathan to inject his infamous flair for stringing together his words of trigger so, as she put it, “There wouldn’t be a dry eye in the house.” Nathan knew that that wouldn’t be a problem.

“Honey, I’m tired. I think I’ll take a little nap now. Wake me when you’re done, okay? I want to hear it before I leave.”

Nathan stayed silent.

“Nathan,” Janie demanded, “Promise me.”

“I promise, sweetie. I promise.”

“Good. Now get to work.”

Nathan kissed his wife on the forehead and waited for Janie’s eyes to close before he began editing. He didn’t stop until it was done.

***

Nathan rose, climbed the alter, and turned to face the sea of familiar faces. His misty eyes paused at the long, lacquered box before he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Janie was a loving wife, mother, and daughter, and a loyal and trusted co-worker and friend… “