Rain pooled alongside the house, running in a thin spout off the corners of the old bungalow. Droplets dripped repeatedly from the roof with a drip-drop drip-drop pattern as they fell against the flowering plants below. The large maple trees that tunneled the street fluttered in subtle gusts of flowing air.
Few people traveled in the downpour. Those who did wore long trench coats, sturdy, rubber rain boots and carried an umbrella to deflect the waterfall. These people, the ones who braved the rain, seemed joyful enough. I only came to know this because the passing rubber-clad civilians would wave to me as I sat on the porch with a piping hot mug of tea. The tea was everything the day was not. Warm, comforting, with a pinch of contentment mixed in. The cup came to my lips almost without my knowledge, and the soft flesh burned slightly as the hot mint-flavored liquid passed my tongue and down my throat.
I was dry on the porch, my sanctuary from the wet, dreary world that surrounded me. Sitting in the rocking chair, my sock-covered feet pattered softly against the cracked concrete flooring of my oasis.
I was waiting. Waiting for the midnight blue car to pull-up the drive and produce my husband and papers allowing us to adopt the child we hoped to nurture.
My tea was gone. In a rush the heat departed from the ceramic cup and my body. I dared not go inside to retrieve an extra jacket or blanket to warm myself for there was a chance I might miss my husband’s return. I was reaching my limits of the chill that resided deep within my bones. I stood to open the weathered, wooden door hoping I would be back outside before he arrived. A crunch of gravel struck my ears. Instantly, the wintery feeling inside my body disappeared, replaced by the clammy sense of nervousness.
Without command, my eyes landed upon the midnight blue car being pelted by millions of water droplets.
My enthusiasm won out over the nerves that inhabited my stomach. I leapt down the stairs and across the drive, barely noticing the rough gravel. The moment I left the oasis of the porch, I was as wet as if I had dove into a pool of water. I didn’t notice the rain streaming off my clothing nor the spherical seeds of life dripping from my nose, ears and chin.
He was waiting there beside the car, having seen my form through sheets of water. The second I reached him he held out his arms; not as if he was prepared for my embrace, but as if he wanted, needed to feel the comfort of his closest friend. I obliged with such energy that I practically fell into him. We clung to each other for an indefinite period of time. I was burning with curiosity to learn whether his venture had been successful. But as I leaned into my love, I no longer felt that my cat-like curiosities needed to be answered at the moment, and so I pushed it to the a corner of my mind.
I released my grip from around his neck and looked up into his face. I could tell he was tired even though the downpour was making the world’s features blend together. I stood on tiptoe and pressed my cold, wet lips to his equally damp mouth.
“Tell me,” I whispered as we broke apart, my voice almost nonexistent from the excitement and dread that was playing with my vocal chords.
He needed no explanation. “Well,” he paused and gazed through the car window to the passenger seat where his briefcase rested. “We pick him up Tuesday.”
It took me a few seconds before I registered the news. Suddenly it struck me. We pick him up Tuesday. “Wait.” I spoke slowly, letting my words catch-up with the sudden rush of thoughts. “Tuesday. Tuesday? It’s really going to happen? He’s coming to live here? We’ll be parents?” I looked up at him, the melancholy feeling that had been lodged in my heart all day melted away. “What day is it?”
My husband laughed with amusement. “It’s Monday, my darling.”
“Monday? Are you sure?” He smiled, waiting as my excitement caught up with the power of common sense. “Tomorrow then, tomorrow he will come home and eat with us, begin living in our home.” I stopped speaking for a moment. It was then that I realized my clothing was soaked through and my face covered in a skin of water, my chin acting like a water fall. My love fared the same. “Come on,” I said to him, grabbing his hand and leading him into the warm interior.
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The following day dawned bright and clear. No trace of yesterday’s storm remained in the pale blue sky of early morning. Neither of us could sleep. The prospect that in a few short hours we would have a child of our own played with our thoughts and emotions. My husband was unable to settle to anything, moving from this to that trying to occupy the time. I suffered from a similar ailment. Finally, we both settled down at the table staring at nothing in particular. No thoughts passed through my mind as I stared at the freshly swept tile floor of the next room.
What felt like four lifetimes passed before it was time for us to journey out of our house, the last time as a childless couple. No sadness was present in my writhing emotions.
I opened the door, hand-in-hand with him as we walked swiftly to the car, separating at the mid-point. He continued on to the other side of the midnight blue vehicle and I opened the driver’s side door. I slipped inside, ducking my head as I went. Together, in perfect sync, the doors closed, the safety belts clicked and our bodies leaned back into the seats.
“Ready?” My love asked me, gazing at me from the right side of the car.
“Absolutely.”
“Off we go.”
I drove in a trance to the court house. The time was really here, the time for us to expand our family, and embrace our soon-to-be son. Only a smattering of cars moved here and there, taking their passengers to a hundred different places. It felt as if our car alone was heading in the right direction, forward in life. The clock built into the dashboard seemed to roar its sound throughout the silent vehicle. I willed it to go faster, bringing the moment of our family’s union closer.
As if the clock had taken my silent pleading into account, we shortly arrived in the courthouse parking lot. Several cars sat on the black asphalt, waiting for their owners to come out and take them on a new adventure.
I clutched at his hand as we made our way up the marble steps into the cool, air-conditioned building. The interior structure was vast. A quiet similar to that of a library on a wintery morning filled the entrance hall. This is it, I thought as we saw our lawyer gesturing to us from one edge of the room. The moment we’ve been waiting for. Our family is about to begin. To my surprise my throat tightened and the sting of tears afflicted my already moist eyes. My husband squeezed my hand, and made our way toward our legal consultant.
“This way.” He gestured to a door that led from the main room.
Our child is in there, I thought as we were led to him with annoyingly slow steps. He is in there waiting for his parents to come collect him in our arms and tell him we will love him no matter what.
The door opened with an almost silent swish and there he was, sitting on a chair fingering the plush ears of the stuffed pig we had given him on our last visit. It tore at my heartstrings to see him staring unseeingly at the opposite wall, sitting on the chair waiting patiently for our arrival, playing with the animal just as he had done when we presented the gift.
“You’re here!” He leapt from the chair and sprinted into our waiting arms. The surprise that had racked through me upon his first race into our arms did not appear this time. I knew now that all his other senses were stronger that mine would ever be. He knew where we were.
“Hi there,” I whispered into his ear through the black locks of his scraggly hair.
“You’re here!” He said again and launched himself onto my husband’s neck, who smiled and hugged him back.
“We are. Are you ready to come home?”
He nodded.
“Have you found a name for your pig yet?” I wondered.
He nodded again. “Albert.”
Our lawyer interrupted our union and explained that we were allowed to leave at any time, that we were free to stay as long as we liked. He smiled fondly at our family and left the room, carefully closing the door.
As the door clicked shut, our son broke away from us with an expression of worry on his face. The tears that were threatening to run down my cheeks almost escaped.
“What’s wrong?” My husband asked for me, as words seemed to have disappeared from my throat.
He shuffled his feet slightly. “Do you love me?”
I was shocked by his inquiry. “Yes of course. Why wouldn’t we?”
“My real mom didn’t want me. Do you really love me even though I’m blind?”
My husband’s eyes drifted toward me then back to our son. “Listen,” he explained, taking our child’s small hands in his. “When we met you, we loved you because you inspire us to live life to the fullest. You are perfect in every way.”
“Do you really mean that?”
I spoke next, having had my voice return. My voice was strong, but tears had spilled like last night’s rain. “Yes, you can’t see, but that doesn’t change who you are. We love you for you.”
Our child’s face lit up as he soaked in our words. “Albert and I are ready to go home now.”
We stood, each grasping one of our child’s hands. Albert rode on my husband’s shoulders, enjoying the vantage point over the rest of the world. I smiled at the pig named Albert, a symbol of our family’s love.
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My lips turned upward as I sat in my oasis watching the stars slowly trace their way across the velvet backdrop, sparkling down upon the world and its inhabitants. The night air was cool; a light breeze was blowing in softly from the west. I dropped off into sleep and didn’t wake until my hand, which was draped gracefully over the railing, felt a few plunks of cold. I opened my eyes and saw rain was once again pooling in the corners of the roof and streaming down to land among the flowers which were closed and asleep for the night. I stepped out into the rain. It didn’t feel like a burden. Instead, the water was a wonder of the world, just as my love for my husband and our child.
Lovely story, Acire. <3 <3 <3 Have a great Sunday.
Thank you 🙂
lovely and with that added surprise element that deepened the lovliness.
thank you! Happy Valentine’s Day!