I bought two simple wedding bands at a flea market.
Margaret’s had a pink heart.
When she saw it, she laughed so hard that Helen came to check on her.
“Tommy! A flea-market wedding ring?” She laughed even harder when she saw it.
“It was the nicest one I could find!”
Margaret’s had a pink heart.
She held up her hand. “It’s perfect and my favorite ring in the world! If anyone asks, tell them it’s a rare Italian design.”
“Is it?”
“No, you fool! But nobody needs to know!”
Three days after her proposal, we married in her hospital room.
Wade stood beside her while George led the ceremony.
“No, you fool!”
When George asked whether I took Margaret as my wife, she interrupted. “Make him promise to wash the dishes too!”
Everyone laughed.
When the pastor asked her the same question, she looked at me. “I do, Tommy.”
Those words meant more than I could explain.
She interrupted.
***
For a few precious days, I was her husband.
We prayed together, held hands, and remembered our teenage years.
Five days after the wedding, Margaret passed away.
I was holding her hand. Her pink-hearted ring was still on her finger.
My heart was broken, but I was grateful that I had found her again.
I was her husband.
***
After, my wife’s funeral, Wade approached me outside the church.
That’s when he gave me the envelope.
The first line read:
“Tommy, congratulations! You’re now the owner of the business I spent 30 years building. Please sit down before you embarrass yourself.”
I don’t know how she knew, but I nearly collapsed!
He gave me the envelope.
“What business?” I whispered unsteadily.
Wade guided me onto a bench. “Keep reading.”
I looked down and continued reading aloud.
“You’re now the proud owner of my bakery. And before you panic, the muffins are already trained.”
“What business?”
I stared at Wade. “Your mother owned that bakery?”
He nodded.
The bakery Margaret named was one of the busiest in our county.
I’d eaten there dozens of times!
People lined up every Saturday for its cinnamon rolls.
I stared at Wade.
“She never told me!”
“Mom said she wanted you to marry her, not her cinnamon rolls.”
I laughed.
Then, I continued reading.
“Kade helped me start the bakery. Wade has his own career, and Denise, our manager, knows the business better than anyone. I’ve arranged everything with my son. He’ll explain the details.”
“She never told me!”
I shook my head. “Why would she leave me a bakery?”
Wade pointed toward the bottom of the letter.
There was one final instruction.
“Tommy, there’s something waiting for you at the bakery. Ask Denise about the toast.”
I shook my head.
I frowned. “The toast?”
Wade burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”
***
Two days later, I visited the bakery.
Denise greeted me at the door. “So you’re Tommy.”
“That’s me.”
She studied my face.
I visited the bakery.
