𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝙾𝚝𝚒𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 | ONC 2024

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡

Gloria walked through the front door of the Echelon Hill manor she shared with her husband at a quarter to five. A swarthy, petite maid greeted her in the atrium and took her clutch and shopping bags.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Davenport,” she said in her heavily-accented English. “Did you have a nice day?”

“I did, Francesca, thank you for asking,” Gloria replied, giving her longtime maid a blithe smile. “In truth, it was downright delectable! More fun than I've had in ages! Well…except for one thing, but I have a feeling my husband the attorney can assist with that little snag.”

“Glad to hear it, Mrs. Davenport,” Francesca said. She held up the shopping bags. “Should I put these in your dressing room?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Gloria said. “Is my husband home?”

“In the sun room, Madam, reading the newspaper,” Francesca replied.

“Ah. Of course. Thank you, Francesca.”

As her maid went up the stairs with the shopping bags, Gloria passed through the parlor to the solarium at the back of the house. It was both her and her husband's favorite retreat. The double French doors stood open in welcome as she approached, and she paused at the threshold to take in the sunny haven in all its glory.

Three of the four walls were made up of wide, floor to ceiling windows, and most of these had been propped open to let in the pleasant June breeze. High above her, the sun shone through the multitude of skylights. A vast array of exotic plants ornamented the corners and side tables of the room, and delicate vines of ivy snaked up the windows to hanging fixtures on the ceiling. The visual and olfactory result reminded Gloria of a fairytale.

On the settee in the center of the room, her husband reclined across the cushions as he read the newspaper. His face was set in concentration, and his thick dark hair was smoothed back in the style of a debonair film actor. For a few stolen seconds, Gloria lingered in the doorway, her gaze fondly roaming the contours of his handsome profile. She had every centimeter of his angular jaw, high forehead, and straight Roman nose memorized, yet she never could help indulging in the sight each time they occupied the same room.

How she would miss this.

“You know, it's customary to announce oneself when entering a room, rather than ogling like a voyeur,” Mr. Davenport teased, turning his head and saddling her with his cheeky, knowing smile. The smile she so loved.

“I was admiring the view,” she teased back as she stepped over the threshold. “It's really something special today. The room is nice, too.”

He chuckled and got to his feet, setting the newspaper aside. “My dulcet darling,” he said, the beautifully rounded vowels of his words betraying him for the British import that he was. He held out his arms in invitation. “How lovely to see you. I'm so glad you're home.”

Gloria glided into his embrace and encircled her arms around his neck, resting her cheek against the lapel of his suit jacket. “Karl, dearest,” she murmured. “You simply will not believe the day I've had.”

“Oh, no,” he said, suddenly concerned. He took her gently by the shoulders and looked her up and down. “Not bad news?”

“No, no! There's no bad news! For me, that is,” Gloria assured him. “My day couldn't have been better. I wish that could be said for everyone I know, but… Well. Please, don't worry. I'm grand.”

“Are you really?” Karl asked, the corners of his eyes crinkled in worry. “So, your appointment this morning..?” He trailed off.

Gloria knew what he meant to ask, and why he couldn't get the words out. She graced him with an earnest, reassuring smile and laid her hand on his cheek. “The doctor is very pleased with my current health. He says the prognosis is brighter than he'd originally anticipated.”