Judge Morse peered at him. “Just look at you today. You brushed against her for only a brief moment as time goes, but some of it rubbed off on you. After meeting her, you realized that if you were ever to win or deserve a woman like her that you would have to better yourself, pull yourself up by the bootstraps. She made you realize what there was to be had in this world; she made you stop feeling sorry for yourself”
The judge looked down at his hands, inspecting them, looking at them as if he had never seen them before. “And so you know something. Some of you rubbed off on her. Since her divorce a year ago, she’s been working four nights a week as a volunteer in the Geriatrics Ward of the County Hospital; she hasn’t missed a single shift during that time. Some of those poor damned patients have no control of their bowels or bladders. Sylvia cleans them up, that’s her job. She soothes them and comforts them. They’re the children she’ll never have now… unless you and she.”
Judge Morse took a very deep breath. “I’ll say this, even knowing it might mean the end of our friendship, Tod. Whatever reason you had for breaking with her, that reason no longer exists. You don’t hate her, you never did. You love her. She loves you. You knew she was falling in love with you. To deny her and yourself the companionship and love and children you two could have together… to do this thing means that you, Tod Shelton, are in the exact same position she was in when she wanted to get revenge. You are being vengeful! I know you’re man enough not to let her money come between the two of you. As far as that’s concerned, you’ll probably be a millionaire yourself within three or four years at the rate you’re going. So there’s no reason why you two should not be together.” He stood. “Here she comes… you think about what I said.”
Tod looked up at the same moment Sylvia saw him. She stopped, a look of uncertain fright… and something else… crossing her lovely face. For a moment, it appeared as though she were about to turn away and run away from them. Tod felt his throat grow tight. She looked thinner, far more beautiful than he had remembered. This was the face that had haunted him all those sleepless, lonely nights a face that now loomed up out of the dreamworld passing into reality. As cautiously as some timid forest creature prepared for instant flight, she approached the table and waited for his invitation.
“Sylvia,” he said, his swollen throat unable to say more.
He saw the hot tears boil up in her eyes as, trembling, she held out her hand. He took it, held onto it.
“How… how… have you been… Tod?” she asked in a voice so low that it was almost inaudible.
He nodded his head several times rapidly, not trusting his voice, and seated her beside him. Then he said, uncertainly, “How have you been?”
She bit her lower lip and used the back of her hand to wipe away one tear that had begun running down her nose. “Do you want the horrible truth?” She gazed at him, the truth in her eyes… the truth, her own being, her hopes, her future, all mirrored in her eyes.
They were so engrossed in each other that neither noticed Tom Morse slip from the booth and make his way toward the exit. He stepped outside. The rain had stopped. Here and there the sun was breaking through the clouds. He took a deep breath then whistling jauntily, he crossed the street toward his offices. It was, he thought, turning out to be a fine day after all. A splendid day, one he was sure he would remember for all the rest of the days of his life.