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The Green Room - an accompaniment to The Purple Room
After writing The Purple Room in response to annart's writing challenge, I was inspired to write The Green Room, a flash fiction story from the husband's point of view. It is an accompaniment to the first story, but I hope you enjoy both stories.
- The Purple Room - annart's challenge of the mundane
A flash fiction story in answer to annart's writing challenge about a purple room.
The Green Room
Hmmm, I put the finishing touches of paint on the new green room. I finished painting the door and out I stepped into the hall. But, I had to step back into the room to inspect my work.
Yes, it was perfect. Little Jake would love it in here now. He was three years old and too big for his crib. He needed a "big boy" bed and a "big boy" bedroom he had informed his mother and me not long ago.
"Ok, buddy," I said, "What color do you want it painted?"
"Green, daddy. I'm a 'green boy," he quipped.
"Green it is, son," I had said smiling wide and tousled his hair.
The memories in this room were remarkable. Five years ago we had adopted our little girl, Sofia Anne. We had lost our first daughter to a miscarriage. I remember the devastation like it was yesterday. We were crushed by her death but also by what the doctor told us next. It was a slim to no chance of my wife ever becoming pregnant again.
We returned home to nurse our wounds. I had sunk into a deep depression and every time I thought about adoption, as Kate, my wife wanted to do, I was engulfed with a grief so heavy that I could not even think of raising a child not my own.
Kate had pleaded with me to adopt, but when she saw the grief in my eyes she mentioned it less and less.
In fact, she finally gave up trying to convince me and decided to re-haul the pink nursery and turn it into something else. When her grief had subsided some, she took up painting again and had painted a beautiful, colorful, abstract painting on three canvas' and needed a wall to hang it on. I think it was the painting that motivated her to change the room from a pink nursery to a purple room full of light and life.
Kate was the light and life of my life, and I began to realize that I might lose her if I completely shut down within myself. Our communication had broken down and our intimacy was at nearly zero. After several months of therapy, which Kate knew nothing about, I had finally dealt with my personal grief.
I came home from work one night to find her painting the nursery purple, and she showed me her plans for redecorating the room. It was to be a sitting room that would look out a wall of windows onto the terraced garden she had recently constructed. If was to be a room full of light and promise, she said.
It was at that moment that I realized I could no longer deny Kate's own grief and loneliness. She had been struggling with this loss as much as I had, perhaps even more.
So, the next evening I returned from work with an application to adopt a child. Kate was thrilled and so was I after all.
Sofia came into our lives six months later and we couldn't be happier. We finally had our family and Kate and I were ecstatic.
Sofia quickly became the light and life our our lives together.
Then, a funny thing happened.
When Sofia was two years old she came running down the stairs when I returned from work one day.
"Da-Da," she shouted, "Pai -, paint," she said as she pointed upstairs.
I went upstairs to find Kate directing two painters painting our third bedroom green. When I looked down at the blueprints I recognized they were for a nursery.
"Kate - -," I began.
"Yes," she said. We are pregnant again. Isn't it a miracle?"
My mouth was hanging open and Sofia stuck her fingers in my mouth. I closed my mouth to kiss them.
"How soon?" was all I could stammer.
"I am four months along, but I am resting most of the time. That's why I hired the painters."
"An ultra-sound is scheduled for Saturday and I want you and Sofia to come with me."
"It's a date," I said, engulfed in tears. "A date with the two most precious girls in my life."
So, miracles of miracles, we had a safe pregnancy and Jake was born fine with all fingers and toes.
By the time he was born, the nursery was finished and we brought him home with us and he snuggled into the crib. I still check in on Sofia and Jake every night, even though he is a "big boy" now, and marvel at how all our lives have changed.
Sofia is non-pulsed about being a big sister. Jake is the typical brother, bothering Sofia and following her around all the time trying to be part of his big sister's world.
And my world? With Kate, Sofia and Jake, my world is happy and at peace.