In the end, it was the absolute realization that it was all over that resolutely made up Happy’s mind.
He’d lived a lot in his eighty plus years - it had been one hell of a continuous party. Looking back over it all, Happy couldn’t find too many regrets. He’d always done the best with whatever he’d been dealt. More importantly than that, he’d never whined.
Sure, he would have liked to have had a family like most men. Especially now, in his last years, it would have meant a lot to have children and grandchildren about. But for decades now Happy had been telling anyone who asked that he’d just never found a woman who suited him well enough. The real truth of the matter, though, was that no self-respecting woman would take him and his habits on for any memorable length of time.
"Suppose this is as good a time as any to face up to my drinking problem." He mumbled sullenly to Spike, who licked his hand anyway.
Good, old Spike. Happy gave the dog a vigorous scratching behind his ear. Hell, a man couldn’t ask more from a steady companion. He didn’t argue, didn’t complain and never once got upset when he came home stinking drunk.
Wanda and Sam were the only two people who meant anything at all to Happy. At least, he corrected himself, Wanda HAD meant something. Now that she was gone, he knew that nothing would ever be the same for him again. His and Wanda’s friendship had gone back a lot of years. He’d gotten sort of accustomed to it after all this time.
And as for Sam, well, she was like the kid of his own he’d never had.
Guess there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her.
Well, old man, he smiled grimly to himself, let’s see if that’s true.
Happy shut Spike up in the rusty Ford Fairlane, leaving the windows cracked just enough to allow air to seep through but not enough for the dog to escape. He rubbed Spike’s head apologetically before closing the car door, "Sorry, boy. You can’t come with me this time."
Determinedly gripping his Winchester, Happy set out to find Per.