Free The Walk by Richard Paul Evans

truck over.”
    “Great. Return the van to the leasing company.” Ipaused. “And there’s Cinnamon . . .” Cinnamon was McKale’s horse. “Just see if the livery owner wants her.”
    “I understand,” she said.
    “You can keep half of what you bring in, just put the rest into my account.”
    “Where will you be?”
    “I’m going for a walk.”
    “Where to?”
    “Key West.”
    For a moment she said nothing. I think she was trying to decide whether or not I was joking. “You mean Florida?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re walking to Key West, Florida,” she said incredulously. “Why?”
    “It’s the farthest place I can walk from here.”
    “You’re serious about this,” she said sadly. “When are you leaving?”
    “This afternoon. As soon as I finish packing.”
    “I need to see you before you go. I can be there in forty-five minutes. Don’t leave before I get there. Promise me.”
    “I’ll wait,” I said.
    “I’ll be right over. Don’t leave,” she said again and
hung up.
    I dialed Steve, my accountant. I instructed him to pay off all our bills, then file to dissolve our corporation and close out all our bank accounts, transferring any extra money into my personal account. He was disappointed to lose our business but not all that surprised. With all that had transpired in the last month, anything was possible.
    We went over the agency’s remaining receivables, thenI gave him Falene’s phone number in case he ran into any problems. I thanked him for his service and told him I’d check back with him in a few months. His final words of advice to me were, “Wear sunscreen.”
    Falene arrived within the hour. I could tell she had been crying. We embraced, then we walked from room to room, talking about the furniture. There was really nothing I couldn’t leave behind. We ended up in the foyer.
    “So, you’ll help me?”
    “Yes. But half is too much. I’ll just take my salary.”
    “It’s going to be a lot of work. You’ll have to hire someone to help you.”
    “I’ll get my brother. He doesn’t have a job.”
    I handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my bank account number. I talked to Steve just a few minutes ago, he’s going to close out the corporate accounts and transfer the balance into that account as well. I told him that if he had any questions, he could call you. Is that okay?”
    “Of course.”
    I looked her in the eye. “Are you sure you can do this?”
    “Of course. I’m Vice President now, remember?”
    I looked at her wryly. “But are you
sure
you want to?”
    “I’m
sure
I don’t. What I want is for everything to go back to how it was. But that’s not an option, is it?”
    “If only,” I said.
    She glanced at the paper, then put it in her purse. “How will I get hold of you?”
    “You won’t. But I’ll call from time to time.”
    She didn’t know what else to say.
    “Thank you, Falene. Your friendship is the only goodthing to come out of all this. You are one of the finest people I’ve ever met.”
    She put her arms around me, and we held each other for a few moments. As we parted, she wiped tears from her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t do this.”
    “What else is there?”
    She looked at me with a dark, sad expression, then kissed my cheek. “Be safe.” She wiped her eyes as she walked out of the house. I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

    There were only two things I couldn’t discard. First, McKale’s jewelry. McKale didn’t have a lot of jewelry—she preferred a bare look—but over time, I had bought her some nice things. It all had sentimental value, and each piece reminded me of where we were when I gave it to her and how she’d responded. I took her wedding ring and slipped it over a gold rope-chain and put it around my neck. The rest, an opal ring, a ruby-and-emerald necklace, and a pink sapphire-and-diamond brooch, I put in a small pouch and put it in my pocket.
    The other things I valued were my journals. Twenty-plus years’