Waiting for Happiness

”John?” Stepping into the senior home’s reading room, Annie recognized someone she hadn‘t seen for fifty years.

“Annie?” John rose slowly from the overstuffed easy chair. Smiling, he shuffled toward her, spread his arms, and hugged her tightly. “It’s been a long time,” he said.

“Yes, it has.” Annie returned the hug before they pulled back to stare at each other’s aging faces.

“You haven’t changed,” John told her. “You must be having a good life.”

Annie smiled and nodded. “I guess I have," she said. “But like all relationships, I suppose it’s had its ups and downs. And you?”

“The same. Say, did you ever get around to marrying Bill Thompson?”

“Yes.” Annie smiled again, but her face took on a sad look that told John not all was well.

“I know I shouldn’t ask,” he started, “but--”

“We divorced, after fifteen years.”

“I’m sorry.”

Annie stared blankly across the room. “Oh, I suppose I am, too. But that’s all a long time ago. And I married someone else a year later.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No. He was a neighbor of my cousin Sue.”

“Children?”

“Two girls. They’re both happily married with families of their own.”

John reached down and took Annie’s hands in his. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but this is a retirement home. Are you here to see your husband, or has he--”

“Yes. The latter, I mean.”

“I’m very sorry. May I ask how long ago?”

“Six years. Anyway, enough about me and my woes. What about you?”

“Never married.”

“Never? I’m surprised. I thought some lucky young woman would have roped you in long ago.”

“No. And if one tried, I’d have told her ’no, thanks’.”

“For heaven sakes, why?”

John beamed and kissed Annie on the cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you.”