LOST AND FOUND HUSBAND

by Sheri WhiteFeather

“I’m not. I’m just offering to get the ice cream.”

  She decided not to argue the point. Sometimes it was easier to just go along with him and see where it led. “Make it a double scoop of chocolate.”

  “Will do.”

  He walked away, and she sat on the bench and gazed at the zebras. She could see their black-and-white bodies through the greenery that filled their enclosure.

  He returned with two sugar cones, piled with soft serve ice cream. His was vanilla.

  They ate in silence, until he said, “I know an interesting fact about zebras.”

  “You do? What?”

  “Not all of them live in harems or herds. There’s a species where the males are solitary and the females come and go. When a foal is born into this type of society, the mother walks around her newborn so it will see only her stripe pattern. It’s part of an imprinting process and is necessary for survival. The foal has to recognize its mother because no other female will adopt it.”

  “The imprinting is sweet, but the fact that they are unadoptable is sad. Thank goodness it isn’t that way with humans.”

  “If it was, I wouldn’t have Kaley, and I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

  She couldn’t imagine him without his daughter, either. “Zebras always reminded me of merry-go-rounds.”

  “When I was little, I used to associate them with striped gum.”

  She smiled. “Doesn’t that come with temporary tattoos now?”

  “I have no idea. I haven’t chewed it since I was a kid. But man, I used to go to town on it then, one piece after another.”

  “Because it loses its flavor so fast.”

  “That’s what was so cool about it. The quick, strong flavor burst.”

  “It’s fun thinking of you as a kid. What other things were you into?”

  “I’m a product of the seventies and the eighties, so I was into all sorts of goofy stuff, I guess. Mostly I was part of the skate and surf culture.”

  “There’s nothing goofy about that. I can see you doing both.”

  “Sometimes I miss surfing.”

  “You should take it up again.”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a while. But I’ll always have a fondness for the beach. That will never change.”

  She nodded. She knew how much he loved the sand and the surf. The pier, too. “You’re a California boy.”

  “And now you’re a California girl, too.”

  “By way of Ohio.” She thought about his other wife. “Was Corrine born here?”

  “Yes. She was from L.A., same as me.”

  “You two got married when you were twenty and adopted Kaley when you were twenty-four. When did you know for sure that Corrine couldn’t conceive? How long did it take to find out?”

  “We tried for about two years, then we decided to see a doctor about it and that’s when they ran some tests and discovered that she was infertile. She was devastated at first, but then she figured that she was meant to be an adoptive mom, especially since she came from an adoptive family herself.”

  Dana glanced at the zebras. It didn’t surprise her that Eric knew what he knew about them. That sort of information would’ve stuck in his mind, given his experience. “Why couldn’t she conceive? What was wrong?”

  “It was the result of an infection she had when she was younger. But she didn’t realize how severe it was or that it caused infertility. She always had a lot of female problems. She was just used to that sort of thing.” He frowned at his ice cream. “I think that’s why she didn’t recognize the signs of her cancer.”

  Dana still didn’t know what type it was. “You’ve never told me about it before.”

  “It was uterine cancer. She’d already gone through an early menopause, and she thought the symptoms were related to that. She didn’t see a doctor right away like she should have. But she was still determined to beat it. She fought a good fight. But it was awful, seeing her so sick.”

  “Is that why my morning sickness bothers you so much?”

  He nodded. “I know it’s not the same, but it still gives me the same feeling.”

  “It’s definitely not the same. In a few weeks, I’m going to be right as rain. Waddling like a penguin later on, but that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

  He laughed a little. “The voice of motherhood.”

  “Darn straight.” She was glad their conversation had turned light. She was also glad that they were tackling the morning sickness issue. “So no more worrying about me.”

  “I’ll decide when it’s time to stop worrying.”

  She waved her ice cream around. “Can you be any more stubborn?”

  “And can you be any messier? You have chocolate on your nose, Dana.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  She took her napkin and dabbed at her nose. Sure enough, she came away with chocolate. She burst into a giggle. “You could have told me earlier.”

  “It just happened.” He held his cone out to her. “Want to put some vanilla on it, too?”

  “Maybe just a little.” She took a bite instead.

  “Hey!” He pulled it away from her, and they laughed like a couple of kids.

  But shouldn’t they be acting like kids? They were at the zoo, after all. “We still have a lot more animals to see.”

  “And a toy penguin to buy,” he reminded her.

  She grinned and gave him a chocolate-flavored kiss, and he kissed her back, making it ridiculously noisy. In spite of how the day had begun, it was turning into a fun-filled adventure and just what she’d hoped for.

  * * *

  The entire honeymoon was special. Dana enjoyed every moment of it. But it was over now, and she was back at her house, preparing to move in with Eric. Most of her belongings were already packed, but she still had last-minute things to throw into boxes.

  Eric was at work, but Candy was there, keeping her company until the movers arrived. Since there was no room for Dana’s furniture at Eric’s house, it would be going into storage until she could sell it.

  “I’m going to miss my stuff,” she said. Her colorful dining table and mismatched chairs, her quaint little loveseat, the coat rack that held her shawls, the shabby chic dresser in her bedroom. “Eric’s stuff is nice, but it isn’t me.”

  “So toss some of your style into it. Scatter your knickknacks around.”

  “I can’t do that without consulting him first. Can you imagine if he came home and saw that I’d made changes to his house?”

  “Eric is the one who suggested that you study interior design. Surely, he’s expecting you to redecorate a bit.”

  “He’s expecting me to make a mess. That much I know. He thinks that I’ll leave my clothes all over the bedroom.”

  Candy smirked. “Because you will.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I meant that in the kindest of ways.”

  Distracted, Dana picked up the stuffed penguin he’d bought her. “I keep thinking about how I need to fix him.”

  “I knew you would be.”

  “Sometimes he’s so amazing and romantic. And other times, he’s so troubled and distant.” She cuddled the penguin. “I’ve actually been having fantasies about what falling in love with him would be like. Does that surprise you?”

  “Truthfully? It doesn’t.” Candy’s sigh sounded like a cross between pity and wonder. “What woman wouldn’t want to fall for her big handsome tortured husband? The same guy who surprised her with an antique ring on her wedding day and arranged a spellbinding honeymoon.”

  “When you put it that way...” Dana laughed.

  Candy laughed, too, even if they both seemed to know that it wasn’t funny. Dana and Eric hadn’t entered into a uni
on based on love.

  Uncomfortable with the thought, she said, “Do you think it’s weird that he visits Corrine’s grave as often as he does?”

  “Not if it gives him peace.”

  “Maybe I should go and confide in her, too.”

  “Confide in her about what? Fantasizing about falling in love with her husband? He’s your husband, too.”

  “I just think I’d feel better about it if she knew.”

  “Do you think she’s really going to be able to hear you?”

  “I don’t know.” She quit cuddling the penguin, setting it off to the side. “Do you think I’m going to be able to handle falling in love with him if it happens?”

  “You can handle anything, Dana.”

  “Even being in love with a man who doesn’t love me?” The question packed a punch. It was the very thing Candy had experienced in her own get-pregnant-get-hitched marriage. Only sadly for her, the baby was gone and so was the husband she’d loved. “You know better than anyone what that’s like.”

  “Which is why I’m not a fair judge. But you’re stronger than I am, so I’m going to vote yes. Plus you’re so charming and cool, if you love him, he won’t have a choice but to cave in and love you, too.”

  Dana reached out to hug her friend. She couldn’t have said anything nicer. “I’m going to miss you way more than I’m going to miss my furniture.”

  “You’re not putting me in storage, silly. But I’m going to miss seeing you every day, too.”

  “Rent this place to someone great, okay?”

  “No one is going to be as great as you are.”

  They hugged again, and the movers arrived. After the truck was packed, Dana said goodbye to Candy and met up with the movers at the storage facility. Soon after that, she went to Eric’s house, where they unloaded the rest of her things.

  Once she was alone, she wandered in and out of each room. Already she was getting cabin fever. Or suburbia fever, as it were, with the sudden urge to flee.

  But Candy was right. This was her residence now, too, and she needed to relax and make her presence known, for more than the messes everyone was in agreement that she was going to make.

  So she called Eric when she knew he would be on a break, asking him if it was okay for her to make a few changes around the house.

  He gave her his blessing, so she started the process of digging through her boxes, eager to spice things up.

  Chapter Ten

  Eric opened the front door and entered a much more colorful house, which was what he’d expected.

  The back of the sofa was draped with a printed throw and a shimmery vase sat on the end table. Everywhere he looked some sort of gypsy doodad had been added: candles, incense burners, glass statuary.

  But the part he hadn’t expected was the artwork prominently displayed above the fireplace. The pieces belonged to him, not to Dana. He’d kept them stored in the garage, where she’d obviously found them.

  He struggled to grasp how it made him feel, other than newly married and confused.

  Not only had she made changes to the interior of the place, she was making dinner. He smelled something delicious in the air. He welcomed the meal. The artwork, not so much.

  Just then, a ponytailed Dana appeared from the kitchen to greet him. She bounced into the living room, wearing a fifties-style apron over her jeans and T-shirt. He imagined her saying, “Hi, honey, how was your day?”

  But instead, she searched his expression and asked, “So, what do you think?”

  He assumed she was talking about the house. But because he wasn’t ready to comment on the artwork, he focused on her attire. “That’s a cute look on you. Is it from a thrift store? Did you get it recently?”

  “What? Oh, this?” She smoothed the apron. “I bought it ages ago. Come on, Eric, what do you think of the way I redecorated? If you hate it, I’ll put it back the way it was. But I’m hoping that you’ll appreciate it.”

  “I like the gypsy stuff. You made it work in here. But what in the world possessed you to put those paintings up?”

  “Because Kaley texted me earlier and when I told her I was doing a bit of redecorating, she said that I should check out the artwork in the garage. That there were some pieces that I would probably love. And I do love them. They’re phenomenal.”

  “Did she also tell you that they’re old paintings of mine?”

  “They’re your work? No, she didn’t mention that. But that’s even better. Oh, Eric. They’re amazing.”

  He winced. “They’re just average landscapes.”

  “Average? Are you kidding? They’re misty and moonlit. As soon as I saw them, I felt as if I was being transported to an enchanted realm where powerful lords and delicate ladies were going to sweep me into their beautiful shadows.”

  He furrowed his brow, pleased by her praise, but uncomfortable about it, too. “You sound like Corrine. She used to say they that made her feel magical. She never understood why I didn’t think they were worthy of being displayed.”

  “Really? She said almost the same thing as I did?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Then there you go. Two women can’t be wrong.”

  “Three women. Kaley always wanted me to put them up, too.”

  “Ah, then that explains why she told me about them. She loves the changes I made, by the way. I sent her some pictures.”

  He wasn’t surprised. His daughter wasn’t a creature of habit. She thrived on change. “I’m glad she’s happy about it.” This would always be Kaley’s home, too, the place where she grew up.

  “What do you think of the seashells?”

  “What?”

  “Below the paintings.” She gestured to the mantel. “I put them there because you love the beach.”

  He saw what she meant. She’d placed a grouping of shells where his old wedding picture had been. She’d filled the space with something reminiscent of his past, yet connected to his future since his first date with Dana had taken place at the beach.

  “That’s clever,” he told her. She had a way of making everything fit somehow. “You’re going to make a great decorator.”

  “Thanks.” She beamed. “I put a romantic memento from our wedding in the bedroom.”

  He doubted that it was a photograph because they hadn’t gotten the professional ones back yet and the images their friends and family had taken weren’t the best quality. Plus why would she have called it a memento and not just said that it was a picture?

  “Do you want to see what it is?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course.” She’d piqued his curiosity.

  The bedroom, he discovered, was a disaster. She had open boxes everywhere with the contents spilling out of them.

  “I haven’t finished unpacking,” she said.

  So he gathered. If there was a wedding memento in here, he sure as heck didn’t see it. But he could see how she’d crammed her clothes into the closet, the hangers poking out at warped angles and the weight of the rod sagging from the extra weight.

  She followed his line of sight. “Those aren’t even all of my clothes. I don’t know where I’m going to put the rest of them.”

  “We can get a portable closet or a big armoire or something. So, where’s this romantic thing?”

  “On the dresser.”

  He glanced in the direction she’d mentioned. It was the bride and groom topper from their cake, with her daisy hairpins clipped together in a circle around it.

  Eric’s pulse dipped and dived. She’d created a sweet and sexy reminder of that day. And night. He would never forget removing those pins from her hair.

  “That’s a nice memento,” he said.

  “I thought so, too.”

  She moved closer. They probably should
have kissed, but they didn’t. Suddenly, everything seemed awkward. They’d only been married for a few days and now that the honeymoon was over and they were locked in a quiet moment, they didn’t know how to behave around each other.

  She broke the tension. “I’ve got chicken and potatoes in the oven. That’s what we’ll be having for dinner.”

  “Sounds good. Smells great, too.”

  “It should ready in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I’m going to change.”

  “Okay.” She left him alone.

  He maneuvered around the boxes and made his way to the dresser. After he retrieved some comfortable clothes, he closed the drawers, and the vibration rattled the cake topper. The bride and groom wobbled and fell over. Was that a sign of things to come? A message that they were fooling themselves by being married? He didn’t know what to think, other than it was all too new to tell.

  Eric righted the figures and changed into a T-shirt and drawstring sweatpants. Rather than meet her in the kitchen sooner than necessary, he attempted to organize the boxes, moving them out of the walkway, along with their spilled contents.

  Finally he entered the kitchen. Dana was bustling around in her old-fashioned apron, preparing a salad to go along with the main course.

  She did a zillion things at once, he realized. Within the course of a day that wasn’t even over yet, she’d moved into his place, half unpacked, rearranged the house and fixed a hearty meal.

  He walked over to the window where she’d placed a sun catcher. He gazed outside. In the backyard, wind chimes were hanging from the roof of the patio cover, and the only way for her to have accomplished that would have been to use a ladder.

  “I can’t believe you took a chance like that,” he said.

  She turned toward him. “What?”

  “Climbed up there.”

  “Pregnant women aren’t invalids.”

  “You could have fallen.”

  “You’re being a worrywart.”

  He ignored her comment. “I think you need to start taking it easy. Between work and school and your efforts here at the house, you’ll run yourself ragged.”

  “I like keeping busy, and I’ll pace myself when I need to.”