Edward Rothbaum opened his eyes with a slight groan.

He felt horrible. And weak. And sore. And thirsty. And horrible. And was that his wife standing next to the bed?

“Ch…Char…?”

“It probably maybe isn’t best for you to try to talk,” said Nurse Hallabug. “Your body may need perhaps some more time to maybe heal up.”

“Welcome back, Dad,” said Zack.

Edward turned his head slightly to the side (moaning in pain from the effort) to see his four children standing together on the other side of his bed.

“Do you remember anything, Ed?” asked Charlotte, leaning down and taking his hand.

He took a breath to answer and felt a mild rush of pain in his chest, causing him to gasp. Which hurt even more.

“Oh! Sorry!” She quickly let go of it, as if holding it had somehow caused the pain.

“There’s a very good chance that probably his lungs are maybe going to be perhaps a bit sore for a little while,” cautioned Nurse Hallabug. “But don’t quote me on that.”

“Do you remember?” repeated the woman who, while technically still his wife, had been gone for over six years.

Did he remember? Remember what? How he had ended up in a bed? In a hospital? He closed his eyes and took stock of his situation. His entire body was sore, he felt utterly wiped out, and his lungs ached every time he tried to take a breath. What had happened?

“It is so miserably glorious to see your father alive and awake!” moaned a voice he did not recognize. “To think he survived that fire! Oh, it’s too terrible to contemplate!”

Smoke. Burning. Yes, that fit. He’d been in a fire.

Ow.

He opened his eyes again to look at his children. Then he gingerly turned his neck to look at his wife. She looked different. Older (he supposed he looked older, too, under all the bandages), calmer. And also extremely guilty. He wondered what that was about.

“Char…,” he began.

“Shhhh.” Charlotte softly pressed a finger to his lips. “There’s a lot to talk about—and I’ve a lot to apologize for—but this isn’t the time. Just rest. And know that…I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

There were tears in her eyes, which made Edward tear up as well. He still couldn’t believe it. His wife. Right here. Next to him. This was real. She was real.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?” she asked.

“You have to forgive her, Daddy!” cried Alexa. “She saved Aunt Gladys! But then Aunt Gladys needed to be saved again and so did Mommy, and Grampy wasn’t going to save her, so we saved her and now we’re a family again!”

He had no idea what his youngest daughter had just said, but it sounded sincere. Particularly the bit about being a family again. That would be very nice. But could he forgive his wife for abandoning them like she did?

“You…left,” he managed to whisper.

“I did,” she sighed, then cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “In my defense, I did say I’d come back. So…I’m back.” She smiled, looking like a little girl hoping to charm her way out of a scolding.

She was back. And all it took for her to return was for him to almost die.

“So can she, Dad?” asked Zack. “Can she stay?”

He slowly swiveled his head to look at his children again. The four of them looked so hopeful, almost bursting with expectation. They obviously wanted her back.

And so did he. It wouldn’t be easy, but if they could make it work, it would be worth it.

He gave the briefest of nods before wincing in pain. Everyone cheered. He was pretty sure they were cheering his nod, not his pain.

“How soon before he can come home?” asked Charlotte.

“He’ll never go home!” moaned the unidentified voice. Man, whoever it was was a real downer.

“She means my house,” said another woman, whose voice he didn’t recognize but who looked a little bit like his wife. Didn’t Charlotte have a sister? Was her name Gladys? He couldn’t remember. “The family’s temporary home. For now.”

Wait. Temporary home? Why did they need a temporary home? What was wrong with the one they had?

“I really couldn’t say,” said Nurse Hallabug. “I would maybe suggest you think about asking the doctors, as that might perhaps be one possible way to maybe find out.”

“Yeah!” Little Alexa clapped. “Daddy’s coming home! We don’t have to move to Uruguay!”

Uruguay?

“You don’t remember, do you?” asked Charlotte again.

Remember what? Uruguay? No. Wait. Smoke. Temporary house. Sweet mother of pearl, his house must have burned down! And he must have been caught in the fire! He quickly swept his eyes back to his children, but they all seemed fine.

Did he remember his house burning down? Did he remember being caught in the middle of it?

No.

Thank God.

He couldn’t imagine visiting that memory over and over again in his head.

It would be like living in a nightmare.