WELCOME HOME

She spotted the light in the open window. He hadn't changed one iota. She suppressed a tight smile. When would John ever change? Well, tonight, such carelessness might cost him dearly. She swooped through the opening. Surveying his surroundings, she couldn't help but snicker a little bit. Everything remained the same since her last visit with the only difference being a large table in the corner opposite his exercise equipment. Papers and books laid scattered across the table. A lamp overhead the table highlighted a particular set of papers.

Detecting no sign of the resident, she walked over to the table. A large sheet of paper captured her sight. Lines and angles crisscrossed its length and breadth. Upon further examination, the words "WatchTower II" focused her attention. The drawing on the paper looked resembled the first satellite, yet there were subtle differences. One detail immediately jumped out at her. The signature of the person who conceived the sketch forced a grin on her lips: John Stewart.

As she picked up the layout for an even closer going over, a book shot into view. She placed the drawings to side and gripped it. She could already tell that this book was far removed from being new. Although only the outline of the letters on the cover remained, she read the title: HOLY BIBLE. Her mouth twitched as she studied the book. John Stewart's language at times would attest that he was anything but a religious person. Yet, after all he encountered in the past several weeks, she blamed him not for seeking solace in words of faith.

She prepared to replace the book to its spot, when a chain dangled in her view. She traced its path and opened the front cover of the Bible to reveal its full measure. Her gaze widened as she gathered in the chain and examined the object at the end. Her fingers danced over it shape and felt the little button. Depressing the button, the locket split to reveal a small photo inside. The woman possessed striking beauty. Her rich, dark complexion, enhanced by large brown eyes, immediately conveyed a feeling of warmth and compression. Standing just in front of her at about shoulder's height, a young man, whose face mirrored the same eyes as the woman, flashed a pearly expression. The stranger quickly recognized the sparkle in the boy's eyes. She had no doubt about the pair's identity: John and his mother. She gently closed the locket and eyed the inscription on the back:

"To my little hero, I love you! Mother"

She put the locket back inside the front cover. As she started to close the book, she saw a small, thin object sticking out from the middle of the pages. She turned to the marked section. She removed the object and let out a small gasp. Another photograph stared back at her. She knew the smiling couple in the photo. Their faces glowed with the warmth and security of two people who found completion in each other. She flipped the picture over and read the handwritten message:

"For my big, strong hero, I love you!"

Those last three words struck her like lightening! Her heart crumbled at the memory of how often she wanted to say those very words. John had no difficulty in saying them to her. How often she tried to espouse just how deep her emotions ran! Yet she lacked the fortitude to form them on her lips. Every time they spoke of a future together, she would laugh it off or change the subject. She knew he loved her. Why couldn't she just admit the same to him? She traced the handsome man's image with her fingertip. If love showed mercy to her, she would risk everything to communicate how strongly she loved him.

She closed the Bible and returned it to the original resting place. A small yellow piece of paper drew her notice. She originally gave no thought to the sticky, but curiosity always overwhelmed her good judgment. As she scanned the contents, her heart sank.

"No, no, I can't believe she's back! I hoped... I hoped..." she breathed in shallow whispers.

John:
I'm sorry for not contacting you earlier. I know that this is going
to be difficult for you. I want you to know how much I care about
you. I want nothing more than for you to be happy. I understand that
it will take time for you to be at peace. I'm willing to wait for
however long that maybe. I truly hope that we can re-start and re-
store what we once shared...

She dropped the note as if stricken. What a fool she had been. Her head reeled as she read the note again. Perhaps she had misinterpreted what was written. A second scan yielded no happier results.

As she turned from the table heading to the window for a final exit, she took one last longing gaze at the book with the picture. She desperately rummaged through the pages and quickly snatched the picture from its post. She wanted to crumple it, stomp it, and then burn it, but all she did was trace the man's face with her fingertip. She measured each contour as if preparing to make a bust of him in the clay of her memory. She closed the Bible, but kept the picture in her hand.

She started for the window again without looking back. As she started lifting off, a resounding bass voice shuddered through her bones.

"You are not going to even say good-bye?"

"How long have you been spying on me," she spat masking her sorrow with anger.

"Not long. Not long," his voice soothed.

Her heart melted as she looked upon his flawless dark complexion. His eyes displayed the same warmth and compassion as his mother's. Yet he had a different aura about him. She slightly raised her eyebrows as she regarded the mustache and the few hints of gray around the temples. She tried not admit it, but he looked even better than in their last close encounter.

"I don't know why I came here. Obviously, you've worked things out and have decided to take up things with..."

He followed her eyes as her head quickly glanced at the drafting table. "I see. So, you really believe that I could just ignore all that has occurred between us... that I could just trip my emotions on and off like a light switch. I don't believe that and neither do you!"

She raised her voice to keep from crying. "I know what I read! She can't wait to get you for herself and re-live old times!" She spun around trying to hide the tears.

She heard him take a step towards her. She bowed her head. She didn't want to face him. She wanted no part of the sweetly brutal confrontation that each step brought closer to reality. She knew that his arms would comfort her. She knew that deep voice would buckle her knees. She knew that just the slightest touch would break all her resolve.

"John, I can't. You can't. We can't..."

"I can. You can. Most importantly, we can."

She felt his final step approaching. She whirled back around as if to spring to the attack. Instead, she reached up a trembling hand and slowly traced his features with her fingers. She closed her eyes and let the smoothness of his skin, the tickle of his mustache, and the softness of his lips develop his image in her mind.

He slowly leaned his head into her palm and kissed her wrist. He moved his head up and kissed her palm and then each finger.

She inched closer to him and finally fell into his chest. An emotional dam burst forth from her eyes and mouth. "I'm so sorry, John. I'm so sorry! How can you ever forgive me?"

"I forgave you the same night I forgave myself." He cupped her chin and stared deep into her soul. "Now you have to forgive yourself."

She hugged him tighter and sobbed as she buried the past behind her. He gently stroked her hair and rocked her slowly. After a few minutes, she backed up from him. From her her hand she produced the picture. "Do you remember this?"

"Of course, I do. I've kept in the safest spot I know."

"Do you know what it says on the back?"

"Yes."

"John, I made you read what I should have said a long time ago. Now, I want you to hear me say it: John Stewart, I love you."

He remained silent for a few moments as he replayed her message in his head. John pulled the woman close to his body so she would feel his warmth. He looked down on her expectant face and lightly stroked her cheek. Then, he closed his eyes and smiled.

"I love you, too. Welcome home, Shayera, welcome home."

A/N: MY HEART FELT GRATITUDE TO ALL WHO TOOK THE TIME TO READ AND REVIEW MY DOCUMENT. GRACE AND PEACE TO EACH OF YOU.