Sparks and embers floated skyward, adding to the pinpoints of light in the starry heavens above. The heat from the dying bonfire created an oasis from the cold. It was the first chilly night of fall — A gift for the brutally hot and humid days of the previous summer. Summer had conceded defeat and was gone now. Fall had won and the young couple celebrated the best way they knew how: They sat by the fire and cooked marshmallows.
The lights of the town made a faint glow off to the south. Otherwise, the woods surrounding the open field looked like a landscape dipped in black ink. A new moon was rising in the West but the fire was the only real light for miles. They looked to the sky. A meteor shot across it, screaming toward the eastern horizon. The young man looked up and made a wish.
“I’m still here,” his wife said.
“Funny, “he said. “Very funny.”
His voiced trailed off into silence. The bugs of summer had also left, leaving nothing but the sound of the popping wood from the fire. She grabbed his hand and held it.
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
Silence still. And then he said, “I know.”
“How do you know?” her voice was incredulous.
“What do you think I wished for?”
More silence. She squeezed his hand tighter. Some words don’t have to be said.
Sweet!
I will always connect shooting stars with my first date with Mr. H. It was the first time I had ever seen one and was definitely a sign. I smile every time I think about it.
Lovely.