“Wait, wait, wait!” Halo hollered while tapping Colin’s right hand. “You don’t hold it that way! No wonder you always win!”

“Okay,” he replied and, with a smirk, commanded, “Show me how to do it!”

“Hold the very bottom with your forefinger and thumb,” she instructed, guiding his fingers to grasp the lowest tip of the chicken wishbone. “Okay?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” he agreed, giggling and bowing in reverence as they set to pull.

“1, 2, 3 … go!”

“Yay, I won! Again!” he hooted and jumped as he waved the bigger piece; the sweet, musky, and savory smell of the rotisserie chicken hanging in the air as if in silent jubilance.

She harrumphed as she picked up the car keys to go grocery shopping.

“Ha! I’ll show you when I get home, Honey Bunch!” she growled, one side of her upper lip pulling upward.

They were always so competitive with each other, especially as to who would shout the correct answers to Jeopardy questions, rack up higher Scrabble scores, and be ahead in completing Sudoku puzzles. Somehow, breaking wishbones had morphed into more of grabbing the bigger part than making a wish.

Halo pushed the open button on the remote garage door opener as her car coasted into the driveway. The low-hanging branches of the flanking, full-blooming eastern redbud and saucer magnolias gently grazed the car top. Having parked inside the garage, she pressed the trunk unlock button on the key fob. The popping sound of the trunk and the jangling of the other keys and charms on her key chain underscored her aimless humming.

“Honey, I’m home!” she crowed as she walked towards the open car trunk to get the bags of groceries. She cocked her ear for a response. Having heard nothing, she shook her head.

“Hmm … he must be taking a nap,” she thought.

Still humming, she leaned forward to glance at the opened bedroom on top of the stairs as she laid the bags on the kitchen, the still-hot rotisserie chicken steaming its container.

“Honey, I’m back!” she called in a sing-song voice. “I got a surprise for you!”

Other than her breathing and the gentle hum of the refrigerator, the house was quiet.

“Where can he be?” she wondered. “He was drinking coffee when I left,” she continued and then, “Ah, he’s out in the back!”

“Whoosh!” The spring air tinged with fragrant French lilacs gusted by her when she pushed wide open the patio sliding doors.

There were wet foot prints around the swimming pool but none leading to the house, the mat by the door dry as a bone.

“Uh-oh!” she mumbled, the hair on her nape standing up.

As she readied to rush to the swimming pool, a mild rustling emerged behind her.

“Hellooo!”

A guttural, sepulchral groan coming from behind the patio door curtain stiffened her. Then, strong hands grabbed her waist, forcing her to turn around!

“I have been waiting for you!”

She was about to let out a blood-curdling scream when the hairy arms let go of her, a loud guffaw echoing throughout the house.

“Ha ha ha! I got you!”

“Colin, please don’t do that!” Halo implored, her eyes tearing up. “You always scare the bejesus out of me! You’ll give me a heart attack!”

“Sweetheart, if someone has to go first, it will be me with my over-medicated ticker!” he interrupted, laughing.

“Please stop saying that!” she scolded. “I know that you mean it as a joke, but it always troubles me.”

He tickled her as he turned to walk up to the bedroom, setting aside the wet mop in the nearby laundry room.

“Ha! Guess who’s going to win today?” she mused as she gazed at the still-steaming rotisserie chicken. “I’ll surprise you this time around!”

Halo wiggled to the tunes that Alexa was playing as she put away the groceries. The reverberation of the bass fused with the gentle humming of the refrigerator amplified her heart beats.

As the current tune faded away, she heard a thud. She stopped to assess whether it was part of the music or the knocking of the refrigerator compressor.

She quickly turned toward the opened bedroom door for any physical activity. Sensing nothing, she hastened to the stairs.

“Honey, Honey! Are you okay?” she yelled.

Having met with silence, she hurried her steps, leaping over the landing between stairs.

“Oh, no!” she cried.

On the carpeted floor was Colin, his right hand clutching his chest.

She dropped to the floor and cradled him in her lap. She wiped the froth off his mouth with the bottom of her skirt as he gasped for air, his hands now gripping her right hand. His soft and moan-like sounds intermixed with her whimper.

“Honey, are you okay?” she cried, shaking his upper torso.

Colin’s right lip corner curled in pain. Mistaking it as a faint smile, she giggled and joked, “Honey, I’ll let you win again on the wishbone and all the other contests!”

Her weak laugh stopped when Colin’s lips started to purse and his grip began to loosen. She thought of calling 911, but decided to continue cradling him, not letting go of the tight embrace.

“Will you … please stay with me?” she pleaded, her nose almost touching his. “We still have so many years to spend together.”

With eyes still closed, Colin took in a deep breath and then lowered his head.

“No, no, no!” Halo wailed as she rocked Colin. “Don’t leave me! Colin, don’t leave me! No, no, no!”

“Hello … hello … hello …” a soothing voice vibrated in her ears, a hand tapping her shoulder.

The inconsolable sobs comingled with her rapid deep breaths as she looked up, a pair of piercing blue eyes and loosely-curled blonde hair greeting her tear-blurring gaze.

“Colin?” she asked.

“No …” was the response. “Are you dreaming about Father again?”

“Mmm …“ she nodded. Her chest went limp when she determined her bearings.

“Why can’t you have a happy dream, Mother?”

With her nose and forehead scrunching, she wondered.

“Why is it that whenever I dream of Colin, it is always about him either leaving or dying? Why can’t my dreams be about our good times together?”

Immediately conjured up was the magical moment when she, 22, was surprised by a stranger in a dimly-lit bar. Colin, just turning 50, introduced himself with his still beer-foamed mustache, his piercing blue eyes and loosely-curled blonde hair reflecting the bar’s incandescent light. The happy weekends followed, rolling on like fast-forwarded montages.

She then jerked her head as if to realize that she was incapable of lucid dreams, hence controlling the essence and frequency was impossible. Nonetheless, any dream of Colin was still welcomed, a fulfillment of a wish for continued solace. In the short period that they were together, he became a lover, a friend, and a confidante. Moreover, Colin, being older, offered the deep comfort that she missed, being fatherless since she was born.

“Now, get up and be ready for brunch since it’s almost lunch time,” snapped her son. “I have prepared your favorite rotisserie chicken salad and … guess what?” he asked as he raised her chin. “The wishbone is stripped clean for us to play with.”

Slightly dismayed by the interruption of her reverie, she wiped her face clean of tears and eased out of the bed; the sweet, musky, and savory smell of the rotisserie chicken still lingering in the air.

“I’ll let him win this time,” she whispered with a sly smile.