The Woman in Blue

Misha’s eyes fluttered open to find Dale placing her gun in its holster before reaching for the badge she wore on a silver ball-chain around her neck. Dale noticed Misha’s eyes on her. “Morning, sunshine.” “Morning.” Misha glanced at the clock. “Oh, I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For not getting up earlier to make you coffee.” “It’s ok,” said Dale with a smile. “You can make me one of those delicious chicken dinners of yours tonight instead.” “A done deal,” Misha promised, realizing full well that she had fallen so deeply in love with Dale. Truly, utterly, and totally in love. She wanted so much to say so for the first time, but didn’t think that saying it before Dale was about to leave for work was an appropriate time to do so. However, Dale would beat her to it, she would discover, as soon as she entered the house nearly eight hours later. “Mmm, smells good in here,” she said as Misha came to greet her with a hug and a kiss. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. How was your day?” “Ok, and yours?” “Ok. I spent time working out and going for walks in between the computer and housework.” “Oh, that’s good. Breaks up the monotony.” “And I’ve also got something to tell you,” said Misha. “Me too,” said Dale as she placed some file folders on the counter. “Who should go first?” Misha thought about it. “I guess you can. What’s up?” Dale gazed lovingly into Misha’s eyes. “I love you, Misha.” Misha’s eyes widened with shock and pleasure. “That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you, Dale.” The two smiled happily. Never before had they felt such love for another person. “Oh, how I love you too, Dale, forever and always!” They hugged fiercely and kissed long and hard till the oven timer went off. “Guess we’ll have to pick up where we left off after we eat,” said Dale. “I hope you’re hungry because I made plenty,” informed Misha. “I’m famished.” After dinner, as had become a ritual for them, they sat sipping their coffee in the living room. Both agreed that routine was just as comfortable as spontaneity was fun. They took a few moments to enjoy their coffee in the quiet, peaceful setting in which they sat. A fire crackled in the fireplace to warm the house for the night, now that the nights were getting cooler. Dale set her mug down on the end table. Then she turned back and smiled softly, her lips together. Misha saw the love evident in her dark brown eyes as she, too, set her mug down on the end table closest to where she sat. She turned back to find that Dale was now holding a small royal blue velvet box. “Do you think you love me enough to want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Dale asked Misha. “Absolutely.” “Would you have a child with me someday?” “I’d like that.” “Would you marry me first?” asked Dale, handing the box to Misha. “Of course I will,” Misha answered with a smile, dizzy with emotion. “You don’t feel you’re too young?” “No, not at all,” Misha assured her, taking the box from Dale and opening it. Her heart swelled with love at the sight of the beautiful engagement ring, which Dale placed on her finger. “It’s gorgeous! It fits perfectly, too. How’d you know?” “I took one of your rings one day and used it for reference, then secretly put it back before you could notice it was gone.” They were married in Las Vegas a few weeks later. They gambled, they shopped, they browsed, they ate, and they made love. It gave Dale such pleasure to see Misha marvel with delight at the exciting sights around them. Dale carried Misha over the threshold as any newly married straight couple would upon arriving back home after three wonderful days of fun in the glitter and glamour of one of America’s top wonders. “Just remember, Mrs. Richardson,” Dale told Misha later on that night, “we meant it when we said for better or for worse, and all the other vows we made as well.” “Forever and ever,” promised Misha. “No matter what.” A month later, Misha was artificially inseminated. Four months after that, Misha and Dale were told they had a son on the way. The following week, Dale rushed Misha to the hospital with severe abdominal pains. She had lost the baby. “It’s going to be ok,” said a very sad Dale as she stroked Misha’s back while she sobbed hard on Dale’s shoulder in her hospital bed. “Lots of women have miscarriages the first time around. We’ll have our child yet.” Dale kissed the top of Misha’s head and soothed her soft, silky hair with her hand. “As the doctor said, perhaps you’re just a little young, and we should wait a while before we try again. Ok?” Dale felt Misha nod. “Nothing’s changed, girl. I still love you with all my heart.” “I know you do,” said Misha, pulling back to gaze into Dale’s sad eyes. “And I love you. I was just considering the age difference between us as far as the baby goes.” Dale looked into Misha’s blue eyes. A smile formed on her lips. Then she laughed with amusement. “Sweetie, I’m thirty. Not fifty. I’m anxious for a child too, but we’ve got plenty of time.” “That’s true,” Misha agreed softly. Dale smiled briefly and coaxed Misha to lie back. “I know hospitals aren’t the greatest place to be, my sweet little Misha, but you must get your strength back.” “I will,” said Misha, smiling weakly. This was when she realized just how tired she really was, as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier from just as much emotional fatigue as physical. Dale left as Misha was drifting off to sleep, grateful that her sweet angel had her own room.