What Matilda Wants, Matilda Gets

Whatever his wife wished for he tried his hardest to make sure she got. That was just the way he was, and they both felt the same way towards each other. Martin had said once, with the unkindness of a teenager, "For god's sake you wait on each other hand and foot!" and Terrence had answered, "Just one of the many reasons our marriage has survived all these years. Nowadays, Matilda and Terrence often commented to each other, marriage just seemed to be another throw away commodity; couples would just cut and run to the divorce courts at the first sign of trouble.

In the kitchen, Terrence first started the coffee. Then he went to the refrigerator and brought out four eggs and the orange juice, one of their many shared pleasures. He added four slices of bread into the toaster. While the eggs were cooking he poured two large glasses of orange juice.

His eyes crept to a sheet of paper on the kitchen counter. Words written in Matilda's now-shaky handwriting decorated the paper. The same handwriting which had once been fastidious now looked spidery on the paper. He let out a deep sigh and moaned, "Oh, Matilda." Terrence picked up the sheet, read it over once more as he had the previous night, folded it and slipped it into the pocket of his robe. Tears came to his eyes, but he wiped them dry with the sleeve of his robe. He didn't want Matilda to see him like this; he would be strong for her. "What Matilda wants..." he murmured.

The eggs went onto two plates along with the buttered toast. Terrence finished making breakfast by pouring coffee for them. One sugar in each cup along with a splash of cream. Any other day of the year they used milk, but on their anniversary it was always cream. The cups he used were made of fine china, another tradition.

The phone in the pocket of his robe buzzed, announcing an incoming text message. Terrence fished it out of his pocket and was prompted to enter the security code in order to read the message. 8869—his old badge number. Old habits die hard! It was from Martin, as he had expected it would be.

'Hi, Dad. Happy Anniversary. Love you. Will call later. How's Mom?'

Terrence was tempted to send a quick reply, but then shaking his head sadly he dropped the phone back into his pocket. There would be time for that later. He fished out two wooden breakfast trays from the kitchen closet. The trays had handles and folding legs, convenient for breakfast in bed. On each tray he placed a plate of toast and eggs, the coffee, and the glasses of orange juice. He paused after completing this task—something was missing.

Of course! How could he forget? He went to the back door and unlocked it. The door led Terrence into the garden where he went to one of the rose bushes that were currently in bloom. The day was already warming up nicely; it was going to be a beautiful day. He selected two perfect pink Parfait roses, Matilda's favorite variety, and carefully snipped them at the stem. He delicately carried the two roses back into the house and locked the door behind him once more. Terrence placed them very carefully onto her tray. Roses were the perfect finishing touch!

Terrence shuffled slowly back down the carpeted passageway towards the bedroom door, his slippers making swish-swish noises on the carpet. He didn't look at the family photos hung along the passage wall as he passed them by. He didn't need to; he had passed them thousands of times before. He had also lived each and every one of those moments that were captured for eternity. Finally at their bedroom door he carefully opened it, aware of the unoiled hinges.

Matilda was still sleeping peacefully, the rise and fall of the blanket announcing her slow, rhythmic breathing. Terrence went back to the kitchen to fetch the tray containing her breakfast.He placed it carefully on the same chair that had previously held his robe. The stronger sunlight was now trying to force its way through the closed blinds, and it was winning the battle. The dark of the night had retreated in defeat.