The Keepsake (Love at the Crossroads) by Pat Simmons

of her head. She didn’t push him away. She missed the intimacy between them.
    Once she composed herself, she didn’t face him. “Sorry about that.”
    “The kiss or the tears?”
    Desi wanted to say both, but she had always enjoyed kissing her husband. “The tears.”
    “I caused them. It’s only right that I should be here to wipe them away.”
    He was right, so she didn’t argue. Resting her head on his shoulder, Desi closed her eyes. Why was she so content—was it Michael or the snow? “Do you have a backpack in the car?”
    “We’ve never left home without one in this weather.”
    “You can stay the night, so you don’t have to drive home in this.” What possessed her to offer him lodging? If he got stuck, AAA was ready to assist motorists.
    Michael gave her a bewildered look. “Are you sure?”
    Was she sure? “Yes, on the couch.”
    ***
    Michael hadn’t realized four inches of snow had fallen while they talked until he trekked through it to retrieve the backpack with extra clothes out of his car. His heart pounded with excitement at his wife’s unexpected invitation. He didn’t know what it meant, but he wasn’t turning down any quiet time with Desi.
    Desi led the way to her second floor apartment. What was going through her mind? Humph, reconciliation was going through his. Kiss and makeup to be exact. Michael chided himself for getting carried away. He would follow her lead and pray every step of the way.
    At the doorstep of apartment two-ten, Desi stomped her boots to knock off the excess snow, but it was piled up against her door. Once they entered, Michael’s heart dropped at her meager surroundings. His actions had forced his wife to flee the luxury of their two story home to this place that was one large studio. He should have left—no he should have resisted.
    “Where’s your broom?”
    “Why?”
    “I want to sweep some of the snow away from your door.”
    Desi smiled and pointed to the corner. Michael performed the task in record time and came back inside to see her turning on the gas fireplace. They had two real ones at home—in their living room and master bedroom.
    “Hungry?”
    Michael shook off his coat and rested it on a hook. “What ya cooking?” He grinned and found his way into her bathroom and washed his hands.
    “I made chili last night and I have some leftover cornbread.”
    He strolled back in and sat on a stool at the counter and watched her shift things around in the refrigerator. She pulled out a pot and placed it on the stove. He missed the harmony they shared in the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do?” Say yes, I want to be close to you.
    “I don’t think so—well, I guess you can grab that bag of lettuce and make us a salad.”
    Beaming, he gave her a military salute and followed her orders. In fifteen minutes tops, they were sitting at her two chair table. Michael gathered her hands in his. He missed their softness. “Father God, in the mighty name of Jesus, we come to You with thanksgiving for another day and another moment. Bless us, our meal and sanctify it from all impurities. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
    “Amen.”
    Desi said very little as they ate in silence. Maybe she was all talked out from earlier, but he didn’t push her. As they finished up, he offered to clean up and load the dishwasher.
    She looked surprised by his offer, but nodded. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
    “Whatever you want to do.” Michael tried to appear calm, but inside his spirit was rejoicing for this very moment with his wife.
    After two movies, one a comedy, the other an adventure, they began to doze. Desi yawned and stood. He watched emotions play on her face. “Ah, let me get you a sheet, some cover and a pillow.”
    Nodding, Michael hid his disappointment. They had never slept apart until she walked out—for good reason. Even when he cheated on her, Desi would find her way to his side of the bed to snuggle in his unworthy arms. It was at those times, the