Hannah's List Read Free Page B

offered her comfort and encouragement.
    Winter had been at the funeral and had doubled over in tears at the cemetery. I hadn’t heard from her since, although I vaguely recalled a sympathy card she’d sent me after we buried Hannah.
    I liked Winter, but I wasn’t interested. Despite Hannah’s confidence in her cousin as a potential wife, I had no intention of remarrying. Besides, all Winter and I had in common was our memories of Hannah.
The second woman I want you to consider is Leanne Lancaster.
    The name was somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t immediately figure out why. She wasn’t a friend of Hannah’s that I could remember.
Leanne was my oncology nurse. She was always kind to me and so caring. As a nurse she’d have a special understanding of the stresses you face as a physician. Leanne and I talked quite a bit and if I’d…if I’d had the chance, I feel Leanne and I would’ve become good friends. I admire her emotional strength. She’s divorced and had a rough time of it. I don’t know her as well as I do Winter, but my heart tells me she’d suit you. Meet with her, Michael, get to know her. That’s all I ask.
    Meet with Leanne…get to know her. I doubt Hannah had an inkling of what she was really asking. I had no interest whatsoever in seeking out this woman. As I thought about it, I realized I did remember the oncology nurse. And Hannah was right. Leanne was a kind and caring person—but that didn’t mean I had any desire to know her better!
The third person on my list is Macy Roth. I don’t think you’ve met her. She’s a part-time model I became friends with while I was still able to work. We met because of some fashion shows I was involved in and some catalog work she did for the store. When Macy learned I was in the hospital she sent me notes of encouragement—cards she made herself with adorable sketches of her cats. Remember? And she knit me socks and a shawl I wore during my chemo. She’s funny and clever and multitalented; she models and paints murals and has two or three other jobs. As I was thinking over this list, her name came tome because I know she’ll make you smile. She’ll bring balance to your life, Michael. I’m afraid that when I’m gone, you’ll become far too serious. I want you to laugh and enjoy life. The same unrestrained way Macy does.
    Once again, Hannah was right; I hadn’t laughed much in the past two years. The fact is, I couldn’t remember the last good belly laugh I’d had. Life was serious. I’d lost my wife and, frankly, I didn’t have much reason to smile, let alone laugh.
    I didn’t remember this Macy, although no doubt she’d featured in some of Hannah’s stories. As for those gifts—the sketches and socks—they’d be among Hannah’s things, the stuff I’d brought home from the hospital. I’d thrown everything into a box and shoved it in the back of a closet. And I’d never looked at it again.
I’ve given you three names, Michael. Each is someone I know and trust. Any of them would make you a good wife and companion; with any one you could have the children you were meant to father.
    I’ll be watching and waiting from heaven’s gate, looking down at you. Choose well.
    Your loving wife,
Hannah
    I folded the sheets and set them on the coffee table while I tried to absorb what I’d read. That Hannah had written this letter when she did was shocking enough.Then for her to suggest I remarry—and go so far as to name three women—was almost more than I could take in.
    If she was watching over me, then she had to know what hell this first year without her had been.
    I’m not much of a drinking man. A few beers with the guys at a sporting event is generally my limit. All at once I felt a need for something stronger.
    I remembered a bottle of Scotch stashed in a cupboard somewhere in the kitchen. My father gave it to me when I graduated, claiming it was for “medicinal” purposes. If ever there was an occasion for a medicinal drink, it was