Grace Green - A Husband Worth Waiting For

“When are we going to the hospital?” Jamie asked.

“The nurse promised to phone me after the doctor had made his rounds. I’m surprised she hasn’t called yet.”

“It’ll be a lovely surprise for our uncle,” Emma said happily, “to find that we’ve moved ourselves in!” “Need a hand, buddy?” The cabdriver squinted against the sun as he peered up through his open window at Jedidiah, who was tucking his wallet away. “You seemed a bit unsteady on your pins, back there at the hospital.”

“Thanks, I’m okay.”

“Nice place you got here.”

“Mmm.” Jedidiah’s attention was fixed on the rusty blue Cutlass parked by the front door. His wife’s? How come she drove a dilapidated old vehicle when apparently his own vehicle had been a latemodel Range Rover?

The cabbie gestured toward Max, who had also been a passenger in his cab but was now standing by his master. “Amazing that your dog was hanging around waiting for you in the hospital grounds. He must’ve followed the ambulance all the way to town yesterday. Lucky you had a name tag on him, prove he was yours. Sure are faithful, those mutts.”

“Yeah.” Jedidiah set a hand on Max’s head and the animal looked up at him adoringly.

“Better’n a woman any day!” With a quick grin, the cabbie put his vehicle in gear and drove away.

Jedidiah’s eyes were thoughtful as he walked with an unsteady gait to the house. Inside waited his wife. Her name was Sarah, according to a remark dropped by the redheaded nurse when she’d wheeled him down to the entrance. And Sarah had visited him yesterday, the nurse had confided, though he’d been too out of it to know it.

If he had seen her, would he have recognized her? He doubted he would….

He remembered nothing of her. Nothing of his past.

Remembered nothing of this house.

“Nice place,” the cabbie had remarked, and he’d been right. It was a very nice place indeed, with clean lines and an attractive symmetry to it. He liked the pink brick walls, the white trim, the indigo-blue door. And he liked the arrangement of potted shrubs set around the entrance.

Everywhere he looked, he saw order.

And money.

He glanced at his palms again, and frowned. Those calluses. What the heck kind of work did he do that he could afford such a place?

Squaring his shoulders, he said, “C’mon, Max. Let’s go inside and find out.”

But Max had loped away into the forest.

The front door was unlocked.

Jedidiah opened it. Closed it. Took off his shoes. Stepped forward into the foyer.

And that’s when he saw them.

Two children, a boy of around three and a girl maybe a couple of years older, sitting on the carpet over by the staircase, playing with blocks. They were so intent on what they were doing they didn’t notice him.

He stood, watching. Fascinated.

The boy was slightly built, with a sweep of ash-blond hair. He was wearing jeans and a red sweater. The girl was sturdier, but her hair was equally blond and styled in a long braid. She, too, was wearing jeans, but her sweater was blue with a pattern of snowflakes.

He cleared his throat.

The little girl looked up.

She stared at him for a long moment, her beautiful gray eyes startled, and then she cried, “Daddy!”

The boy turned sharply. His eyes were as gray as the girl’s, and at sight of him, they lit up.

“Da-da!” He scrambled to his feet, and for a moment the two children stood rooted to the spot. Then the girl threw out her arms and with a shriek of joy ran toward him. The boy followed suit.

What could he do but swing them up and hug them? How were they to know he didn’t recognize them? How were they to know he felt as if they were strangers to him?

He swung them around and then swung them down again.

The little girl ran to the stairs and yelled, “Mom! Mom! Daddy’s come back!”

Jedidiah followed, his heart beating in slow, heavy thuds as he waited for this woman who was his wife.

Her voice preceded her. “Honey, what are you…?”

And then she appeared, hurrying out onto the landing.

She glanced down, frowning.

And stopped dead at the sight of him.

She looked stunned; more stunned even than her daughter had been.

And every vestige of color seeped from her face.

“Oh, hi.” Her voice was flat. “It’s you.”

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