The Bewildered Wife

“She’s not my wife. Maybe there’s been some confusion,” Dean said. “She’s actually my children’s nanny. If she told you she’s my wife she’s very much mistaken.”

“Admitting on the first floor says she’s your wife,” the nurse insisted.

“Maybe it’s Braxton-Myers shock,” Dr. Sugar mused.

“What’s that?”

“Disturbance on the left lower ventricle of the brain,” Dr. Sugar explained. “People who have been struck by lightning often have very strange neurological responses.”

“Lightning made her think she’s my wife?”

“Most Braxton-Myers experiences are short-term,” Dr. Sugar reassured.

“How short-term?”

Dr. Sugar shrugged.

“Hours, days, weeks, sometimes a few months.”

“You don’t know when she’s going to stop thinking she’s my wife?”

“She’s very beautiful.” Dr. Sugar shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to a man.”

“I’ve never noticed whether any employee is beautiful or not,” Dean said coldly. “Least of all, the woman I hire to provide child care.”

But he had noticed—if only this evening. In the rain, her hair slicked back with rain, her face flushed like a tea rose and her eyes a clear, brilliant golden shade.

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