Rich Robinson slowly opened his eyes, unaware of how long he’d slept or what time it might be. He expected to see his wife, Gina, lying beside him, but she wasn’t there. Neither was the mattress or his pillow or the awful rose-print comforter he hated.

He sat up. Everything was gone. No mahogany bed frame or matching nightstands and dressers. No beige walls smudged with tiny handprints. No walk-in closet, or windows, or hamper. Not one tangible trace of his bedroom in sight, just a gray, liminal space stretching toward infinity.

He scrambled to his feet. As he straightened, he noticed he was still wearing the green polo and dark slacks he wore last night when he went out after work with—    

“Hello, Richard.”

The voice came from behind him. He spun around to find his Grandma Robinson standing there. She wore a white belted dress, the kind that served as the uniform of the 1950s housewife. For several seconds, he stared at her. 

She’d died at the age of seventy, when Rich was just ten years old, but the woman before him appeared to be no more than thirty. The laugh lines and wrinkles he remembered had been erased. The gray hair she’d always pinned in a bun had been replaced with a bonnet of short blond curls. It was as if she’d leapt out of the old photos that used to grace her fireplace mantle.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “You’re—”

“Still dead, don’t worry.” She offered a kind smile. 

“So, how are you talking to me?”

“I’ve been chosen to meet you here”—she swept her arms out wide—“in limbo.” 

Surely, he hadn’t heard her right. “Limbo?”

“Yes, dear.” She looked down. A mercury-like liquid burbled up from the grayness near their feet, forming a small pool. “At the moment, a team of doctors is trying their best to get your heart pumping again. You can watch through this portal.”

He inched closer and gazed into the silver puddle. The reflective quality faded and turned transparent as glass. Beyond it was an operating room full of medical personnel in blue scrubs, bent over a figure on a table, calling out “no response” and “clear.”

“Are you here to take me to heaven?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I have it on good authority that you’re going to make it.”

“Then you’re just here to say ‘hi’?”

“No, though I am grateful to see you again. I’m here because your life is about to take a tragic turn.”

“I’d say it already has.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “What happened?”

“You were driving home late, almost two in the morning—”

“Oh, yeah.” Everything came flooding back, none of it worth sharing. “It wasn’t my fault. A raccoon darted out—”

“Don’t bother lying. Only the truth exists here.” Grandma Robinson scowled with disapproval. “You were on your phone when you went off the road and rolled your car. You were reading a message from the young woman you work with. Lacey, right?”

“Yeah. We’d been working late. Right after I left the office, she texted me, so I read it in case she needed me to go back for something.”

“Again with the fibbing?” She closed her eyes for a moment, clearly exasperated with him. “I know what happened. You worked until eleven, then went out for drinks. After the bar closed and you parted ways, she sent a text, saying how much fun she’d had. You tried to reply as you drove home and nearly killed yourself.” She stared him down. “Aside from driving dangerously, did it ever occur to you that you were doing something wrong? How would Gina feel about you going to a bar with a woman twelve years your junior?”

Rich had kept that question far from his mind last night. Whenever Gina and Lacey occupied his thoughts at the same time, he felt like an ass.

“It doesn’t matter because nothing happened,” he said. “We just talked, had a few laughs. It was harmless.”

“It was more than that, and you know it.” 

Okay, maybe to a degree that was true. He and Lacey had talked about personal stuff, something they hadn’t done before. After their second shot of tequila, Lacey told him she was considering breaking up with her boyfriend because they never did it anymore. By that point, Rich had enough liquor in him to commiserate with her, boldly admitting he was in the same boat now that he was the father of two young children. 

Lacey surprised him then. Placing her hand on his arm, she’d stared him down with what songwriters called bedroom eyes and said, “If our sex lives don’t improve, we may have to lean on each other.” Her forwardness caught him off guard, but instead of rebuffing her, he’d simply smiled and waved for the bartender to bring another round.

“On some level, you’ve been pursuing this young woman,” Grandma Robinson said, interrupting his thoughts. “Even if only in your mind.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. She’s been flirting with me for months.”

“She’s testing the waters. Soon, you’ll recover from your injuries, and she’ll make her move. The two of you will start an affair.” Grandma Robinson folded her arms. “Don’t pretend to be shocked. You’ve been imagining it as much as she has.”

He dropped his gaze and fidgeted with his gold wedding band. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he had given a fair amount of fantasy time to what it would be like to go to bed with Lacey.

“Just because it’s crossed my mind doesn’t make me a bad husband,” he said. “I haven’t actually done anything yet.”

Grandma Robinson scrutinized him for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, your thoughts alone don’t make you a bad husband, but what about how you treat your wife and children?” 

“What about it? I make a good living. Our nice house and everything in it is my doing.”

“So, because you’re a good provider, you’re also a good partner and father?”

“I’d like to say ‘yes,’ but I have a feeling you disagree.”

“You’re finally right about something.” Grandma Robinson gestured toward their feet. “How about we review the footage and you be the judge?” 

Through the portal, he could see the smallest bedroom of his house. It had served as a nursery to his two children when they were babies and now belonged to the youngest, his two-year-old son, Liam. 

The room was dim, but thanks to the night light in the corner, he could still make out Gina sitting in the glider, nursing a baby no more than a few weeks old.

Clearly, this footage was dated. Both his kids were well past this phase. It wasn’t until a crying toddler wandered in and plopped at Gina’s feet that he knew who the baby was. The toddler was their oldest, Penny, which meant the infant was Liam.

“Mommy!” Penny wailed.

Gina shushed Penny, but it didn’t do any good. The girl kept crying, which upset little Liam. He popped off Gina’s breast and joined in the bleating. Gina looked on the verge of tears herself as she tried to get the boy to latch again, but he was so upset, he refused. 

Penny, oblivious of her mother and brother’s distress, climbed onto Gina’s lap, squashing Liam’s foot under her knee in the process. Liam screamed in agony.

“Get down this minute.” Gina wrapped her free arm around the girl and hoisted her back to the ground. “Go see daddy, okay? Rich? Rich! Can you come help me, please?”

Rich didn’t recall this particular moment of his life. Through the portal, he watched his pajama-clad self—hair mussed and eyes puffy with sleep—stumble into the nursery and bark, “What’s going on?” 

“Can you get Penny back to bed?”

“I guess.” He sounded put out. “I have an early meeting in the morning, you know.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Gina said. “I forgot the breadwinner doesn’t have to help with the children.”

“Don’t get dramatic.” He took his daughter’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “Let’s go.” As he led the child out the door, he muttered, “Maybe someday your mother will get you trained to sleep through the night.”

The portal dimmed, and the images of his wife and children faded away. 

“Was that you being a good husband and father?” Grandma Robinson asked.

“You can’t hold that against me,” Rich said. “It was during the night. I was out of it.”

“That was the first fissure in your marriage. Your wife saw she couldn’t rely on you, so she started doing everything herself and stopped thinking of you as her partner.”

“See, I remember it differently,” he said. “It seemed like once she had Liam, she started being cold toward me. Less . . . affectionate.”

He left it at that. No way was he discussing his sex life with his grandmother.

“It never occurred to you that you’d done something to make her pull away?”

“No, it hadn’t.”

“Take a look at this.” 

The portal brightened, and in it, he saw his living room. This reel was more recent because Liam looked like his current two-year-old self. 

The boy sat cross-legged next to his mother on the floor. Penny, now a kindergartner, stood in front of them, dressed up in an apron and chef’s hat, holding a small notebook and crayon.

“Can I take your order?” Penny asked.

“I’ll have a hamburger and fries,” Gina said. 

Penny turned to Liam. “And what would you like?” 

The little guy smiled up at his sister. “Ice-freem.” 

“Okay.” Penny stuck out her hand. “Fifty dollars, please.”

Gina laughed. “Inflation strikes again.” She handed over a few bills of play money.

“I’m keeping the change.” Penny trotted off to the miniature play stove in the corner and pretended to whip up their meals.

Rich glanced over at Grandma Robinson. “Everyone looks happy. I don’t see the problem.”

“Keep watching.” 

The celestial camera panned away from Gina and the children, revealing Rich, who sat in the recliner, staring at the TV. A football game was on, but he was only half watching. His gaze kept drifting away from the screen over to his wife. 

The expression on his past self’s face frightened him. 

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, isn’t it?” Grandma Robinson clucked her tongue. “It drove you mad that your wife doted on your children instead of you.”

He remembered feeling pissed off in moments like that, but it had always seemed justified. Now, in the presence of another person, and with the added perspective of seeing it outside his own skin, he had to acknowledge what a childish asshole he’d been.

Why hadn’t he joined them? Both Gina and the kids would’ve loved that. Why hadn’t he appreciated the fact his wife was a loving and devoted mother? 

He hung his head, ashamed. “What do you want me to do? Admit I’m a bad husband and father? Okay, I admit it. There. You happy?”

“I want you to take your second chance at life seriously and not fall back into destructive habits. Your wife deserves a caring husband. Your children deserve an attentive father.” She pointed at the portal. “You’d best brace yourself. It’s time.”

Once again, he could see medical staff working on his body. A doctor clutching two defibrillator paddles called out, “One more time. Clear.”

#

Rich lifted his swollen eyelids and squinted against the morning light pouring through the nearby window. Gina sat in a chair beside his hospital bed. Somewhere out of sight, a machine beeped steadily.

“You’re awake.” She rose to her feet. “Oh, thank God.”

He tried to say her name, but couldn’t.

“Don’t talk.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “There’s a tube in your throat.” She stroked his forehead. “You’re in the hospital.”

Her lank hair hung in greasy strands. Dark hollows underscored her eyes. A brown stain marred her wrinkled shirt. Even so, he didn’t think she’d ever looked lovelier. He stretched out a hand, eager to touch her. She curled her fingers around his and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m here,” she said. 

Thank you, he wanted to say. Thank you for loving me, even when I didn’t deserve it.

With considerable effort, he gave her fingers a squeeze. It was the best he could do to convey the remorse in his heart, to tell her that from here on, he would be a better man.

His eyes had been opened.