A woman is angry and hurt when her husband forgets their 50th wedding anniversary and throws his belongings in the gutter — until he comes home with an unusual excuse.
Betty Carmichael was sure her husband had forgotten their anniversary yet again, only this time she wasn’t going to take it lying down. She had been married to Donald for fifty years and she deserved better!
She had stood by his side through thick and thin and given him three children and the best years of her life, and what did she get? Not even a bouquet of ratty daisies, let alone red roses.
Betty looked at the wall clock and frowned.
21:30. He hadn’t even bothered to come home for the special dinner she’d prepared! This was the last straw!
Trust is the cornerstone of any relationship, and doubt wears away at the love that holds it together.
Two hours later, Betty heard her husband’s car pull into the driveway and smiled grimly.
Donald wasn’t going to enjoy his evening, not one little bit.
She immediately heard a shout: “BETTY! What is going on here!”
She marched outside and stood on the porch, her fists on her hips. “What do you want?” she asked.
Donald was standing in the garden and he looked very angry.
He pointed a finger at an old worn-out recliner sitting on the lawn along with several boxes of books and bric-a-brac.
“What are my things doing out on the lawn?” he asked. “Have you run mad, woman?”
“Mad!” screamed Betty, and the lights went on in the house next door. “You are the one who must be mad!
Do you have Alzheimer’s or amnesia? I’m kicking you out. I’m divorcing you!”
“Divorcing me?” gasped Donald, flabbergasted.
“I’m seventy-eight years old and you’re seventy-five and you want a DIVORCE?”
“Yes!” cried Betty angrily. “Do you think that just because I’m seventy-five I’m no longer a woman? That you can take me for granted?
Well, I won’t let you!”
“Betty,” Donald said. “Be reasonable. What is this all about?”
“You forgot our anniversary AGAIN!” Betty said angrily.
“We’ve been together for fifty years and I have to remind you of my birthday. I understand you weren’t there, but you were definitely there for the wedding!”
“Bets,” Donald protested. “That was the happiest day of my life…”
“Then why don’t you remember it?” Betty asked.
“Why don’t you bring me flowers or take me dancing? You don’t love me anymore. You haven’t loved me in years.”
Donald shook his head.
“I love you, Betty,” he said. “You are the love of my life…”
“Then why didn’t you come home for dinner?” Betty asked. “I made a special dinner and lit candles and set out flowers and you didn’t show up!
Where were you? Out with another woman?”
Donald grinned. “Yes,” he said and stepped aside.
Standing there was a slim girl in her twenties with Betty’s blue eyes and Donald’s wide smile.
“Hannah!” Betty cried and ran down the steps. She would have fallen if Donald hadn’t caught her. She threw her arms around the girl and started crying.
“Oh, Hannah,” she sobbed.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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