Heart-Come-Home

He paused. They had told him to follow the path to the gate and he would see it. He had walked down the tree and flower-lined walkway but it wasn’t until he had turned a corner and found himself in front of an arbor-gate that he saw it. His first feeling, to his surprise, was one of peace, of being at home, even though he had never been here before.

He stood, just taking it in. The curving flagstone walkway leading to the verandah, the willow chair with its cushion of faded blue and white stripes, the little round table with a lace tablecloth, the pitcher of iced tea and a half-full glass beside it. The open glass-paneled patio doors with the trellis full of clematis framing them so beautifully. Hanging from the trellis just above the door and partially hidden by the leaves and flowers he saw the sign and made out the words “Heart-Come-Home”.

“I have”, he thought, then caught himself and shook his head slightly, as though to deny the words. But he lifted the latch, swung open the gate and walked in. Down the flower-lined walkway, hesitating for just a moment, then onto the verandah to the open doors.

Here he stopped again. Everything was quiet and it didn’t even cross his mind to call out and see if anyone was in.

His eyes took in the room. An old floral couch that had seen better days with some cushions and a soft woven throw casually draped across its back. Cupboards, with an assortment of postcards, art work, magazine clippings and other bits on the doors. A sink with a ceramic mug of paintbrushes beside it. The easel with an oil painting of flowers in progress. Bookshelves full of books and creative odds and sorts. A table with a row of glass tumblers full of pens, crayons, brushes and more.

It looked like a busy, well-used place and yet there was a sense of peace and contentment about it. He found himself being very quiet, feeling and being aware without words – and then – he knew he was no longer alone.

He turned, slowly, and there she was. Her hair was almost all grey now – which came as a shock for just a moment, till he took in the gentle hint of a smile on that well-remembered face and saw in her eyes the dancing joy that he had never forgotten.

When she finally said the words, “I’ve been waiting for you.” it was what he had already seen in her eyes and sensed in his heart. With a breath that was a letting go of all the years of waiting, he held out his hands toward her and knew that, finally, he had come home.

© xxxx Evelyn Grace Marinoski