This novella is written in dual first person points of view. Each chapter will be labeled as to who is narrating.

So far, Jameson has met senior citizen, Iris. They have become friends. She has taught him to stand up for himself, and he makes her feel less alone as her condition worsens.
Jameson wrote a poem for her. It's the first thing he's written in a while. Iris, unbeknown to Jameson has changed her will, making him beneficiary of her entire estate.

**********************************

IRIS

Mitchell calls me, telling me to come to his office tomorrow afternoon. He's going to go over all of the changes to my will.

It's the first positive thing to happen in a while. Finalizing things for Jameson and his little boy's future.

**********************************

Mitchell sits behind his big desk, a pair of readers low on his nose as he reads line by line what my estate is. He gives me an approximation of how long it will take to get everything into Jameson's hands.

"We'll have to see if he has any leins or is in collections. Those things will have to be taken care of first." Mitchell looks over his glasses to see if I have anything to offer.

"He hasn't mentioned anything. But, truth be known, I don't really have a clue what his finances are." I lift my purse up and pull out a folded cache of papers. "Oh, I found these. I'd forgotten about them. Some investments Lou made. Will you take care of these as well?"

Mitchell leans forward to take the papers. He puts them on top of the now finalized stack, then pulls his glasses off. "Are you sure there's no family you want to include? This kid is a stranger."

"Mitchell, do I look stupid? Do you think I've fallen victim to an elaborate scammer? He's never so much as asked me to buy him a coffee. We are friends. I know, it's odd. I've been informed how it looks, but this is no May/December romance." I pause, look down at my hands. "He's like a son to me. I'm like a grandmother to him."

Mitchell smiles. "Just asking, Iris."

"I'm of sound mind, as for the body ... not so much."

"Well, he's going to be a very comfortable young man, financially speaking."

"Good. Oh, one question. He's going through a divorce. What happens if she tries to go for half?"

He looks over at me and winks. "I'm a good lawyer. Leave that to me."

"You're a very good lawyer, and a wonderful friend."

**********************************

It takes me a while to settle down at bedtime. I've been terrified since my uncomfortable episode the other night. But, I fall asleep, knowing that Jameson and his son will be taken care of.

It's a good feeling.

***********************************

Jameson calls first thing in the morning. He's excited as he tells me about spending most of last night writing.

"It's about a little girl and her baby brother. Their adventures with their dog. If you've got some time, and only if you're interested, I'd love for you to read it. Tell me what you think. I'd really love your feedback."

I think about the poem he wrote for me. He's a gentle writer. Perfect for children. He isn't pretentious or silly, he writes through the eyes of innocence. "I'd be honored. Bring it over and join me for lunch. Gertrude brought a big pot of soup over yesterday. More than I can possibly eat alone. And bring Heston. I have a big fenced in backyard. Let him get used to playing in the yard."

"That sounds great. I just need to do a few things around here first. Is one o'clock too late?"

"One is fine."

"Oh, and Iris?"

"Yes?"

"This is a very rough draft. So, just keep that in mind."

"So, I should leave my red pen in the desk drawer?"

Jameson laughs.

The boy is a natural writer. It amuses me how nervous he is when I read his work. I'll never forget the look on his face when I finished reading the poem he gave me. He had no idea how beautiful it was. He has no idea how very special it made one old lady feel.

I settle back on the couch. He will come to understand it, though. I may not be around to see it, but he will soon find out just how special he is to me.