Hope.(Kevin Hughes) Her Nobel Prize Medal, still with its lovely ribbon and gilded box, was settled in on the top of a dresser. She didn’t exactly throw it there, more like that was most convenient place to put the damn thing.

She didn’t think much of it. The part of her that needed validation died in the explosion at CERN. What didn’t die was her need to work, to know more, to …to… (her face turned a dark pale- which sounds like a contradiction, but when two thirds of your body is just layer after layer of roped celluloid scars…achievable)

A thought interrupted her rationalization.

“Who am I kidding? I need achievement. I need to be the best. I want to be remembered.”

But the “Victory” was hollow. Not a pyrrhic Victory (she shuddered at the memories that word prodded) although she did give up a lot for it. She gave up her Knight In Green Corduroy…and was just now realizing the real cost of that.

And so it was a surprise when the doorbell rang. She had only been home from Sweden for a few hours. She hadn’t even gone through her email, texts, or the slew of telegrams, cards, and gifts... yet.

It was a DHL Delivery. A small box. With air holes. Something living was inside. If she had eyebrows…one of them would have arched up. She ignored the pity in the Delivery Woman’s eyes. She had none for herself, and sure didn’t need anyone else’s. But she knew what she looked like…so she accepted the look with grace.

The word “Grace” brought back a flood of memories she had tried to bury, brush off, and banish. For a while…she was successful. She took the box, it didn’t weigh much at all.

The Delivery woman smiled after Katie signed for whatever was in the box.

“Enjoy!”

And with that, she was alone with a box with air holes, and a card stapled to the box. Her heart almost stopped when she saw the handwriting and opening line on the card”

“Your Grace, Congratulations!”

A small whimper came out of the box. She would have to read the card later. She put the box on the table. Her hands were not fit for pulling anything apart, so off to the Kitchen for scissors and pliers.

A few minutes later, and her scarred face was being licked with unrestrained joy by the tiny pink tongue of what she could only think of as a cotton ball with black eyes. It turned out to be a Bichon Frise. She had never heard of one. She had never had a pet. She wondered who in the world would send her such a thing. Only to remember how the Card was addressed.

Her breathing stopped for a moment. A long moment. She got some water for the dog, and opened the small bag of dry dog food that someone (she suspected it was her Knight in Green Corduroy) had thoughtfully included in the gift.

A moment later, while the puppy devoured the pouch of puppy food, and lapped up almost as much water as it spilled…she sat down to read the Card. It was difficult reading. Her emotions tried to scatter in every direction as each sentence pounded its way to the Truth. She started over again:

“Your Grace,

Congratulations on the Nobel Prize. But even greater congratulations on what won that prize for you. You have given hope to thousands, perhaps millions- of suffering patients because of your brilliant research and invention. Hope is a wonderful gift to give anyone.

And I hope you are doing fine.

I am married now. Kathleen and I, were married a bit over four years ago. I am not her Knight in Green Corduroy…but I am her Prince Charming.

She loves me…and I…love her. It isn’t a complicated relationship. She told me once that her and I were like peanut butter and jelly. I asked her what she meant. This is what she told me:

“Kevin, I am like jelly, you are like peanut butter. Some folks like jelly sandwiches, some folks like peanut butter sandwiches. But put them both together and everyone likes them. And, no matter how much jelly you mix with how much peanut butter, you an always tell them apart.”

You would like her. She isn’t as smart as you, but then again, who is? But she is wise. I don’t call her “Your Grace”. That is only for you. I do call her a pet name. But it is only for her. And me.

I didn’t invite you to our Wedding. You were busy. I knew that. Kathleen knows little about you. She never asked. As far as she is concerned, life started when we met. The past means nothing to Kathleen, except for the years with me. And that…moves me to tears.

(For one of the few times since she recovered and was released from the hospital, she hated the fact that her tear ducts worked…again.)

I saw you getting the Nobel Prize, and you should know that our old High School has already built damn near a shrine to you! I am pretty certain they will invite you to the unveiling.

Well, anyways, I don’t think you know how much you need someone, or somebody to love. It can’t be me. You made that clear.

(The anger that comment aroused in her was directly proportional to its absolute truth.)

So I am sending along this puppy. Kathleen is a Veterinarian. So I asked her what was the most loving, caring, cuddly puppy... that also happened to be non allergenic. I told her I was sending it to you as a gift for winning the Nobel Prize.

I think she knew it was more than that. But she helped me find the perfect puppy. It is called a Bichon Frise. They are super affectionate, will not judge you, and are fiercely loyal. You will be loved.

You will have to name the puppy. As you wish.

With fond memories, your Knight in Green Corduroy. “

She set the card down. For a while, the world slipped away without effort. The same way she had let love slip through her fingers, not once, but twice.

She heard a whimper. She looked down surprised to see the small puppy looking worried on her lap. It looked up at her with those black teddy bear eyes with a look that asked in plain language: “Are you okay? You can pet me if that helps.”

She found herself doing just that. The puppy rolled onto its back as she caressed the soft white fur on its belly. A few moment later and the puppy was snoring in the most captivating and cute way she had ever seen…or heard.

A smile broke the surface of her face. She had a name now.

“I shall call you Hope!”

Her Knight in Green Corduroy would approve.



*****

Note to Reader: This is the seventh and last story in a series of 7 stories about this couple. You can read all 7 stories together in the Novella titled, The Saga of Kevin and Katie, which has been published in the NOVELS section of Storystar.

Or you can look for all seven short stories, each published individually here on Storystar:

The Saga of Kevin and Katie
1) Done and done
2) As you wish
3) Tragedy
4) The hospital scene
5) Moving day
6) Did you know her?
7) Hope.

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