The First Husband

“I’m here.”

He pulled me into the unoccupied corner, giving me a long kiss.

“Is it crazy that I missed you today?” He pulled back, taking a look at me. Then he began running his hands over my cheeks. “And why are you so cold? You can’t be dressing like that. You’re going to get pneumonia.”

“I wish everyone would stop pointing that out. And I wish it would stop getting worse.”

He looked at me, confused. “Getting worse?”

“The length of my hospital stay.”

He started laughing, which quickly turned into a cough and just as quickly turned scary, leaving me completely unsure what to do as he braced himself on his knees, trying and failing to catch his breath. He managed to reach for the inhaler in his pocket, putting it to his lips and taking a long, deep puff. His breath, the coughs, finally starting to slow.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded, his voice returning. “Fine,” he said. “It sounds a lot worse than it actually is.”

He was still resting on his knees, though.

“It’s all the dust in here,” he said. “It got right into my lungs. Brutal.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to be around it?” I said.

“Definitely not,” he said.

But he was standing up again and smiling as he said it. Only then did I realize how fast my heart was beating.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It sounds worse than it is.”

“You said that already. . . .”

“So I guess it must be true.”

He took my hand, giving it a firm squeeze, then a second one as if to say, I’m fine, really.

I squeezed back, I’m glad.

Then he motioned toward the ceiling and all around himself, proudly. “So?” he said. “I know it’s just the bones of the place still, but what do you think? What do you think of our so-far-unnamed endeavor?”

I looked at Griffin for another second and then looked around, trying to envision the restaurant—what it would be—beneath the construction. The bones were already hinting at how great it was going to look: wide-open beams and rafters, rustic tables of different sizes and a hearth oven, lanterns everywhere. And, of course, that large fireplace leading to the red top.

“I think it’s going to be amazing,” I said. “Really amazing.”

He gave me a big smile. “The Stones are seeping into the walls,” he said. “Giving the room some flavor.”

“Maybe you should call the restaurant the Stones, then?”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“How about Annie’s Place then? Or just . . . Annie’s? Everyone likes a place called Annie’s. I think both have a certain ring to them.”

I smiled so he’d know I was mostly kidding. In response, he wrapped his arms around me.

“I’ll put those in the file for sure,” he said, bending down and kissing the side of my face, holding there. “And how has your day been going? I was getting a little worried. I called the house a few times and you didn’t pick up.”

?

?I ended up bringing the twins to school.”