Page 107 of Truly, Madly Viking

Not a promising beginning for the New Year.

Six of the contestants had given their performances by the time a break was called and the lights were turned up. Natalie would be in the second round, and she was looking mighty nervous after hearing and seeing such talent in the first half—singing, guitar playing, comedy routines, clogging.

Everyone was ordering drinks or making quick runs to the rest rooms or conversing quietly when Joe stiffened and stared at the front door. The others at their table followed his gaze, noticing the strange intensity of his stare.

Steve was the last to look because his back had been to the door, and he had to strain to look over his shoulder. Then he stood so suddenly that he knocked his chair over.

Steve stared at the doorway, then glared at Joe. "You interfering son of a bitch!" he said with a snarl.

But his attention immediately returned to the doorway.

A woman in her mid-forties stood there, tall and thin and attractive in a natural, un-made-up way. Her blond hair hung straight to her shoulders. She wore a plain denim jumper under a heavy, fleece-lined winter jacket... unusual for Texas. In her hand was a small piece of carryon luggage.

Steve put his hand to his mouth, where a small moan escaped. In his eyes, tears were already beginning to well into green pools.

"Shelley," he cried then, joyously, but he seemed frozen in place.

Even though it all happened in a flash, the scenario that followed was like a slow-motion film clip. She dropped the suitcase and ran toward him, a clear pathway being made by the curious spectators.

"Steve," she practically screamed, and hurled herself into his arms.

Hugging each other tightly, as if they would never let go, he kept repeating, "Ah, Shelley. Ah, Shelley.

Ah, Shelley."

And she kept saying, "You dumb jerk! How could you leave? How could you hide from me all these years? You dumb jerk!"

"I did it for you," he said.

"For me? You just about killed me. I kept expecting you to come back when you came to your senses.

First it was one week. Then a month. Then years. You are dumber than Idaho dirt if you think you helped me by leaving." Still holding on tightly to his shoulders, she leaned her head back to look at him. "I could kill you."

He nodded, and kissed her with all the pent-up feeling that had been building in him over ten long years.

Finally she pushed him away gently and motioned for someone to come forward, someone who must have been standing behind her in the doorway. It was a boy.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Shelly said in a choked voice.

She took the hand of the boy—a boy of about nine years, with unique green eyes and a wiry, athletic body. On the shirt under his denim jacket could be read the words, My Dad Was a Navy SEAL.

Steve stared blankly at first, then put his face in both hands to hide the silent sobs that were racking him.

Shelly was merciless. "Steve, let me introduce you to Steven Askey, Jr."

Steve dropped his hands and murmured, "Sweet Jesus!"

"Dad?" The boy gazed up in adoration at a man he had never seen in person.

Only then did Steve reach for the boy and lift him high into his arms and give him a big bear hug.

"Hello, son."

An hour later Maggie finally got the chance to say to Joe, "Tell me how you found Steve's wife."

"Beth."

"Beth?"