To put the term loosely, Jimmy was not one of the world’s best chefs. His mother used to teach him how to do things, like make cakes and how to boil an egg and when you microwave something, don’t do it in plastic, otherwise you’ll be eating Pop-Tarts with plastic bits on for the rest of your life.

All those things he’d never known, and she’d been there to help him. He loved his mom, and even though he’d never admit it to his friends, he was a little bit of a momma’s boy. After his father had run off with another woman, he’d taken up the position as the man of the house, being the only male. He had two sisters, Bella and Lisa, both of whom were in college on the other side of the country.

His mother was the only person who knew that he still visited the graveyard to talk to Gabby. And usually, after he went and spoke to the spirit of his dead wife, he would go and see his mother. She’d always have fresh cookies for him and she was always ready to listen, even at the most ridiculous of his problems.

She seemed to be the only one who listened to him.

Jimmy never really bothered with eating properly for the most part, he’d just order take-out or something. But tonight for some reason, he felt like cooking. Which was why he was stood next to a pile of potatoes on his counter, Vulgar Display Of Power blaring in the background, googling how to make mashed potatoes.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what the recipe was asking of him, it was that he was sure he knew how to make potatoes.

“What is the actual point of boiling them if you’re just going to smash their guts out and turn them into fluffy mashes of carbs anyway?” he muttered to himself, scrolling down the page to read the rest of the recipe.

He could call his mom. But he doubted she’d be very happy when he asked how to make mashed potatoes. She’d ask him about what was happening at work, with the kids, and he didn’t want to go into that right now. Seeing the kids drawings, especially Alex and Kennedy’s had gotten him a little emotional, and he’d promised both of the children that he would take those drawings to their fathers in the prison. Hopefully, he’d be allowed to actually give them to the men, rather than have it scanned and handed to them by a guard.

That was boring.

The buzzer beside his door made a noise and he ran out of the kitchen with his laptop still in his hand, pressing the speak button.
“Hello?”
“Jimmy? It’s…um, Ellen. I want to talk to you”

For a moment, he contemplated whether to ignore her call or just let her up anyway. Maybe she knew how to make mashed potatoes. He sighed and pressed the buzz up button, unlocking the door below. His apartment was a mess, and hastily he shoved some things into his bedroom and prayed that she wouldn’t think he was a total.

Moments later there was a knock on his door, and from over his shoulder, as he tried to look casual in the kitchen he yelled,
“It’s open!”

When Ellen appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, he could have sworn that for a moment, he stopped breathing entirely. Much like her sister had, she had the ability to leave him lost for words at the slightest thing- the way she smelt, the way she had done her hair that day or even what she wore on her body. That was made her so desirable to Jimmy, because he was able to recognise the small things that she never would have noticed otherwise.

In her hands, she carried a large red notebook, clutching it closely to her chest like she was scared he was going to grab it out of her hands. Ellen took one look at the potatoes, and the laptop that was balanced precariously on top of the refrigerator and giggled, her cheeks flushing with colour.
“What are you doing?” she asked as Jimmy rushed over to her, taking her coat and draping it across one of the couches in his living room, shrugging as he did so.

“Making mashed potatoes. I had to Google it, because…well…I think it’s pretty clear I don’t know how to make them at all. What’s with the book?” Jimmy asked as he waltzed back into the kitchen, staring over her shoulder at the journal she held in her hands. Ellen looked down at her feet and then set the book on the counter beside Jimmy.

“This was Gabby’s scrapbook. She started it just after she met you- and then the day she died, in the hospital, she told me to find it. That even if it took me my entire lifetime, I was to find you and give it to you. And…I did it. I fulfilled her final wish”
“Her final wish?”

“That you’d see everything she did and realise how much she loved you. I don’t think she knew how much you cared for her. It was the moment I saw you in that hospital room minutes after she’d died. How you fell down on your knees, and you prayed out loud for God to give her back. You cried, I remember. And then you kissed her- even though she wasn’t alive. You said ‘I Love You’ and then you walked away”

The room was silent for a moment longer, and Jimmy grabbed the book, carefully nudging open the first page to gaze at what his past love had put in there. Millions of pictures scattered the pages, pictures of the two of them. Some he hadn’t even realised had been taken at all- some he had posed deliberately for. There was one of her after Chemotherapy, where he had sat with her for six hours when he should have been studying. He’d kissed her head and told her he was right there beside her, and that he was never going to leave her.

There was a picture of the two of them on Prom Night. It was the first night he’d convinced her not to wear her headscarf. She’d walked right in on Jimmy’s arms with her head bald and a huge smile on her face. No one had said a word because none of them had the confidence that she did.

And underneath, she’d written something. There was an arrow pointing to another photograph, of her smiling and Jimmy kissing her cheek. It read,
‘Love stands the test of time. With you, I am complete in every single way. It is not the way I see myself when I look in the mirror. It’s the way you see me like I am an angel- and tell me that you love me. And every time- I believe you more and more’

He couldn’t bring himself to turn the page, and quickly wiping away an escaping tear, he felt Ellen put her arm around his shoulder.

“I’m going to help you Jimmy. She was a wonderful person. But someday…we have to move on. And I’m hypocritical for saying that, because I’ve barely moved on myself” she told him, stroking the ends of the page softly. Jimmy stared at her, and then like he had many times with Gabby when she was sad, he kissed Ellen’s forehead and pulled her into a tight hug.

“If we move on” he whispered into her shoulder as she clung back to him,

“We move on together”