Dad just sat on the couch with me, letting my grief soak his shirt. He held me tight, but didn’t patronize me with words of comfort that couldn’t possibly be true. How long I cried I don’t know, but my anger seemed to wash away with the tears.
“Dad, I don’t know what to do. How do I move forward without him? I don’t think I can do it without Paul. He was everything to me.”
“I don’t think anyone expects you to know how to do it yet. Right now, you just need to deal with one day at a time. Just worry about you and Noah, and I’m just talking about basic things like making sure you eat meals every day. That should be enough of a goal for right now.
“Brea, I hate to ask, but what are your finances like? Will you be okay for a while? If not, you know your mom and I will help you.”
“No, Dad, I’m okay with finances. We bought the house free and clear with Paul’s inheritance money from his parents, so I don’t have to worry about a house payment. I’ll have to do some checking on our investments with the bank, but we should be okay for the time being at least.” I winced when I slipped and used the word “we” knowing that it wasn’t three of us anymore, just Noah and me.
He felt my shudder, “What is it?” he whispered gently.
It was a minute before I could speak, and even then, all I could get out was, “We?” in a choked whisper.
Dad knew exactly what I meant and held me to him ever tighter. My composure broke and tears coursed down my cheeks.
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry. We’ll work on details another time. Just cry. There’s nothing wrong with crying. I’ll hold you as long as you want.”
. . .
The rest of that day was a blur. I don’t think I left that couch, sitting by my dad, for hours. I was aware of Mom’s hovering concern, but both my parents seemed intuitively to know that I needed Dad. I needed his strength and the security of his presence, especially since he was once again the only man in my life. I felt like a little girl again, wrapped in the protective arms of my daddy. He was going to make all things better. He had to, because I had no idea how to do it on my own.
AMY
It was odd entering my sophomore year as a married woman, but it was such a relief as well. When I had seriously started to notice boys in middle school and was aware that they were noticing me, I wasn’t sure how to act. All the emotions and turmoil of puberty threw me into a tailspin. The first boy to have the courage to talk to me (and me him) was Tucker. He was cute, with a dimple in his chin. We shared a math class right before lunch, so we walked to lunch together, sitting side by side while we ate. It was an idyllic two weeks.
Then I made a fatal mistake in math class. Our teacher, Mr. Georges, asked me to demonstrate on the board the solution to one of our homework problems. I did so correctly, never realizing that most everyone else had gotten the problem wrong. Tucker gave me a look of betrayal and walked off to lunch without me. It was the first time, but unfortunately not the last, that I regretted displaying my intelligence.
For some reason, I discovered over the next few years it was okay to be good at English, but boys seemed threatened when I excelled in math or science. To be fair, not all the boys were taken aback by my brains, but at that age, even one negative reaction was enough for me to hide my test scores.
Despite my determination when I got to college not to bury my talents, years of doing just that made it difficult to start new habits. Being married helped, since I wasn’t trying to impress any of the men in my classes. At home, I had the best catch of my life, but that alone was not enough.
One afternoon, after returning from classes and studying, I walked in to find Paul busy in the kitchen making dinner, a real dinner. “Hey, what’s up? Did I forget that it was my birthday or something?”
Paul smiled and chuckled at me. “No, but I do have a surprise for you, even if it isn’t your birthday.”
Thinking the meal was what he was referring to, I said, “What are you making me?”
“Nope, that’s not it. I am making a lovely meal, but that’s not the surprise. You’re just going to have to wait.”
I watched him make a fancy chicken dish with a name I couldn’t pronounce, but any questions I asked he quickly rebuffed with a simple, “You’ll just have to wait and see.” The only thing I could tell for sure was that he was making way too much food for the two of us, but not until I watched him setting the table for four did I even know how many guests were coming.
At 6:30 sharp, a knock sounded on our apartment door. I rushed to open it, but Paul swept past me and got there first. From the hallway, I heard the always welcome voice of Professor Haynesworth. What a wonderful surprise! But who was he bringing with him?
The door opened up to reveal only the professor. “Is someone coming with you?” I asked in confusion.
“No, I’m afraid not, Brea. You’re stuck with me.”
Embarrassed, I tried to back pedal. “No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that the table is set for four. I thought ...”
He cut me off with, “I know, dear. Allow an old man to tease a little. There is another guest coming, but she’s not with me.”
So the professor was in on it as well. I gave them each a dirty look while they just laughed at my dismay. Paul decided to release me. “Brea, Haynesworth is here to keep me company and out of your way while you meet your new best friend, after me that is.”
He wasn’t helping to clarify anything much yet, but I looked at him expectantly, hoping he would explain. He hesitated, but then relented when I smiled plaintively at him.
“Okay. We have a new intern at work. Her name is Amy, and she is just what you need.”
“I didn’t know I needed ...,” I started to protest.
“Let me finish, Brea,” as he smiled lovingly at me. “Amy is just like you in so many ways. You are going to love her. She is also completely at ease in her own skin. If she has a better idea than what’s out there, she speaks up. She has good comments and suggestions, even though she’s just an intern.” He placed his hands on either side of my face and looking right into my eyes, softly added, “You are so bright, Brea. I think of you and your quick mind every time she says something. I just wish I wasn’t the only one who knew that about you. Amy is not afraid to shine. I want you to feel that same way.”
I started to tear up as what he said sunk in. I felt rebuked and loved all at the same time. Paul knew just what to do. He took me in his arms and whispered in my ear, “Brea, I love you. You are an amazing, intelligent, strong woman. I don’t deserve you. I just want everyone else to know what a lucky guy I am.” Then he added, “And I want you to put your fellow classmates to shame.”
I started to laugh in the midst of my tears. Professor Haynesworth spoke, now that it appeared safe. “Brea, Paul doesn’t quite have it right. There are a few others who know how smart you are, like me, for instance. But I agree with Paul; there is nothing wrong with allowing others to see that as well. Ultimately, they’ll figure it out anyway when you’re the one they all end up going to for help with assignments. Why not save them the trouble of searching you out.” Then he smiled kindly at me.
I felt a little ganged up on, but I guessed that was okay. If anything, it was a bit embarrassing. These two meant the world to me, so I supposed I could get over myself. I knew they meant well.
Amy arrived a few minutes later. She was everything Paul had indicated she would be – eventually.
She knocked on the door, and then before we could even answer it, she opened it herself. Self-assured is right, was my first thought.
“Hi, Brea. Paul’s told me so much about you. I was thrilled when he invited me to dinner.”
I wasn’t warming to her yet; I even g
ave a sideways glance to Paul. How could he tell this woman so much about me and not even mention her in passing to me?
Paul just shrugged and smiled, then urged me with his eyes to stick it out. I turned back to my “new best friend” with a heavy dose of skepticism. “Well, he told me nothing about you. So, I guess you’re going to have to fill me in.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they could easily be seen as an insult. While I decided whether to feel smug or guilty, Amy looked at me a little surprised but then appeared to immediately move past it.
“Well, there’s not much to tell, quite frankly. I’m really very average.”
This self-dismissive remark didn’t sound like the self-confident woman I was expecting. I began to wonder exactly who she was. Her statement, basically a non-statement about her life, made me curious. I forgot all about looking down my nose at her, too intrigued was I by the woman herself.
I watched as Amy turned to the professor and exchanged some pleasantries. I couldn’t tell if they had met before this moment. Neither one was shy or withdrawn.
Paul ushered everyone into the kitchen for some cheese and crackers while he put the finishing touches on dinner. I stood frozen in place as if watching from outside the room. Amy walked down the hallway like she had been here a million times. She wasn’t arrogant, acting like she owned the place, just comfortable, as if this was where her best friend lived.
When I didn’t move, it was Amy, not Paul, who turned to see why. “Brea, are you all right?” she asked brightly.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I must have had a quizzical look on my face, because Amy mirrored a puzzled look back at me. Then she walked back down the hall to where I was standing. Haynesworth and Paul had disappeared, leaving the two of us alone. What should I think of this woman? She looked to be in her early twenties, with short, curly brown hair. She was cute, although not pretty, but she radiated something. I was trying to put my finger on just what it was.
She broke the silence with, “Paul tells me you’re studying computer science?”
I nodded, still a little tongue-tied.
“I love computers.” I noticed as she talked she put her arm through mine and started to gently guide me towards the kitchen. “I’m studying business, but I’ve taken a fair number of computer courses. I’m considering it as a minor, so I can easily see the appeal. When did you decide to focus on C.S.?”
I felt the need to respond to the direct question, and before I knew it, we were talking freely about our likes and dislikes, our strengths and weaknesses. Somewhere during the evening, we ate dinner and dessert, but I was oblivious to the food even as I was eating it. Amy entranced me. She had the ability to tell me about her accomplishments and abilities without once sounding like she was bragging or making me feel inferior.
However, Amy actually talked very little about herself. She asked me question after question, drawing things from me that I hadn’t even gotten around to telling Paul, such as my chess championship wins and my college entrance test scores. In retrospect, I’m not sure how such things came up, but it didn’t strike me as odd at the time.
The evening was over too soon. As Haynesworth and Amy got ready to leave, Amy pulled me aside. “Brea, you are every bit as amazing as Paul claims. You can prove your intelligence with accomplishments and test scores if you want, but in reality, it’s much more than that. You have a sense about you of what you want in life, and you clearly love life itself. I have had a truly enjoyable evening.” Then she added with a whisper, “Don’t let on to Paul, but dinner was great, too. I do not cook, so I appreciate it all the more.” She winked and then walked out the door.
For the second time that night, I stood frozen in thought in the hallway, thinking about Amy. She described me as liking life, but I think what made her stand out is that she liked people, including herself. It was contagious. It felt impossible not to like her, but also not to like myself when I was in her presence.
I turned to Paul, only to find him staring at me with a sly grin on his face. He was suppressing, “I told you so,” with every fiber of his being.
I had to laugh. “You were right. If you weren’t already my best friend, she would be.”
He reached out to me, drawing me close. “Can you believe you were actually annoyed with me earlier this evening?” His eyes were twinkling.
“There’ll be no stopping you now, will there?” I asked, laughing. I reached up and kissed him, as if to silence any comeback, but all was forgiven and forgotten as my heart beat faster, completely smitten with this loving, caring man I had married.
REBIRTH
I don’t know if Paul ever regretted introducing me to Amy. If he did, he never let on. Under her tutelage I became more comfortable with myself, more willing to speak my mind in all situations. I suppose in retrospect he approved, because even though Amy taught me to find my voice, it was Paul who made me feel like I had something to say.
I remember walking across campus with Paul. It was my senior year and the first real fall day of the year, not according to some date on the calendar but from the surprising chill in the air. I had donned a thin jacket, but a short time into our walk I realized I was not prepared for the weather. Paul put his arm around me, trying to warm me, but my bones would not warm.
“Brea, do you want to go inside to warm up?”
“Yes, but we’re just heading to the library. I’ll survive until then,” I responded as I nestled further into his arms.
He surprised me by stopping mid-stride and turning me about to face him. “Brea, what do you want to do after you graduate? I’ve moved up enough in management with my work at the hotel that I can find a job just about anywhere. I’ll follow you wherever you want to go. So, what do you want?”
I was shivering slightly, but inside I was solid. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. I love what I do, but I want to start a family. We’ve talked about it, but never with a timeline. I’m ready Paul. Are you? You don’t talk about your parents and growing up so I don’t always know whether you want a family in theory or one in reality.”
It was not the answer he was expecting. For once, he was tongue-tied.
“You think about it, Paul, and after your shift at work we can talk about it again.”
“No, it’s okay. We can talk about it now. You just caught me by surprise, and I suppose you pegged me right. I do like the idea in theory but somehow never thought about the reality of being a parent. It scares me to death.”
He read the disappointment in my eyes. “Brea, I’m not finished. You have taught me much about goodness. You are strong yet always kind. That’s the kind of children I would like to raise, and if you’re willing to help me, I think I’d like to give it a try.”
I threw my arms around him. “Paul, I love you so much! I want lots of kids!” I felt him shudder then stiffen in surprise. “Oops. I’m sorry; my timing on that one probably wasn’t the best.” I pulled back in apology.
“No,” he responded feebly, “I probably could have used a little more time to warm up to the idea of a first one before thinking about ‘lots,’ but if you’re game, I’m game.”
His trembling voice didn’t fill me with a lot of confidence, but I knew Paul enough to know that once he agreed to a course of action, he would not deviate from it. I smiled up at him. “You know, I don’t really want to go to the library so much anymore. Let’s go grab some lunch before you need to head to work. I feel like celebrating, and I think maybe you need something to revive you. It’ll work for both of us.”
He just nodded in response.
We changed directions towards a favorite bistro of ours. It was no surprise to see Professor Haynesworth by the door as we arrived, since he had introduced the place to us.
“What a pleasant turn of events to see the two of you. And Brea,” he said turning to me, “you look brighter than a summer sunrise. What’s up?”
I turned to look at Paul and burst out in embarrassed laughter. I didn’t think we were ready to announce to the world what we had discussed, especially since Paul was still warming to the idea, but how should I respond? He answered for me.
“Professor, you encouraged me to chase this woman who will forever be two steps in front of me. This is not an announcement, but she is going to be the mother of my children, and I am scared to pieces by the thought, but equally delighted. She will be amazing, and hopefully she’ll help me be passable.”
His straightforward response touched me. I was still looking up at him when I heard the Professor congratulate the two of us.
“It appears that I intruded on a private moment,” he responded. “Wait here just a moment,” and with that he disappeared inside the little restaurant while we exchanged puzzled glances with each other.
He returned a few moments later. “Fred, the owner, has a small, private room at the back. It’s not open to the general public. You will be dining there today, my treat.”
. . .
A few months later, Haynesworth was the first to share in our good news. Amy was next, and only then did we call my parents to tell them they were going to be grandparents.
WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO’S WIFE?
Dad didn’t actually make things better. I mean, how can you? Paul was still gone, and my dad couldn’t undo that. But just as he had done when I was a child, he helped me get up from my fall and brush off my skinned knees. He started with the newspaper, a staple in my childhood home. When I was a little girl, I would read the comics at his feet while he read the front page. As I sat there, he would point out interesting articles to me until I was hooked on the whole thing. Even though the internet was an information source for me now, I still loved the feel and the nostalgia of the newspaper.
The Apple of My Eye Page 4