Loving Neil

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Loving Neil Page 12

by Ronald Bagliere


  “The thought has crossed my mind,” she said. When he took a deep breath, she braced herself. Okay, here it comes.

  He chuckled lightly, reached over and squeezed her hand. “I imagine it did. Okay, two things. One, I wanted to celebrate a year of getting to know you.”

  “A year?” We met in ‘79.

  He shrugged. “Give or take. And the other is … well, I was thinking, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately … and I was wondering if it made sense … if you thought it might be a good idea to combine households?”

  Ok, I think I know what he means, but does this combining households include a ring and wedding vows? He often says one thing and means another. She leaned forward, laying her other hand softly over their entwined fingers. “You mean move in together, as in right now?”

  “Well, not exactly right now, but as soon as you’re comfortable with it,” he said with an anxious tone in his voice.

  Well, I guess he’s trying to ease into this. In a way, I can’t blame him. Truth is, I sort of feel the same way. She patted his hand. “I’d love to.”

  He broke into a broad smile. “Great.”

  Suddenly, it occurred to Janet there was a problem. Her eyes widened and his brow rose. “Something wrong?” he said.

  “Umm … yes.”

  His shoulders sank, and his smile faded. “What?”

  “Tom’s moving out at the end of next month, remember?” she said. She shook her head. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do with the cottage. And there’s all the furniture, and Tom’s art, not to mention all our stuff.”

  His mouth opened, and his gaze turned inward as the words hung between them. He tapped his fingers on the table and looked off into space. “What about an auction?”

  Janet shrugged. “You mean sell all the furniture and stuff?”

  “Well, yeah, or maybe sell it with the cottage.”

  “Not the art, though.”

  “No, of course not.” He pursed his lips. “Hey, on second thought, why not keep the cottage as a retreat for us?”

  She hadn’t given any thought to that. “I don’t know. It’d be nice to be by the ocean.”

  He grinned. “Good. As for your other property, Ms. Trump, you could rent it.”

  She frowned, not keen on the idea. “I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I’m tired of being a landlord.”

  Neil was quiet. “There’s always your father. He is coming out.”

  Janet looked off through the window. “I know.”

  “Have you made up with him?” Neil said.

  Janet turned back and looked at him. “We’ve mended fences, but–”

  “Sweetie, don’t carry that stuff around with you forever. I’m not saying forget it all; just don’t let it get in the way of your happiness.”

  He was right, and Janet knew it. Living in the past had never served her. It was time to start living in the present, and the present was with Neil. At length, she nodded. “I’ll give him a call.”

  During the next three weeks, Janet talked with her father often, and little by little, the sting of finding out the real truth subsided. In retrospect, Janet felt for him. Will had never asked to be cheated and walked out on. Yes, he could be difficult, stubborn and callous at times, but overall, he was loyal and generous. And he wanted to be out here with her. As for which house to rent to him, Janet couldn’t help choosing the house her mother left her. In the meantime, Tom got his affairs in order and moved out of the beachfront cottage. For the next five months, Janet and Neil spent every available moment moving and painting. By St. Patrick’s Day, her father had settled in her Salem house.

  Now came the hard part. Janet wasn’t used to having people underfoot or having to discuss financial decisions. She had her way of doing things, and Neil had his. He preferred lists. She preferred a laid-back approach. He was a creature of habit. Doing things the same way all the time. Throw one little extra thing into the mix, and he struggled to deal with it. He called it the tried-and-true method. She called it OCD. These two traits, easygoing and regimental, were a conundrum that baffled her.

  And then there was Megan. Janet lamented how their friendship had deteriorated, and though she tried her best to bridge the widening gulf between them, nothing seemed to work. After a while, Neil sensed something was wrong and pinned her down about it. He tried to convince her to give it time. That Megan would come around. But Janet knew it bothered him.

  He sat in bed reading the paper. He looked up and winked when she came in. “Hi, beautiful,” he said.

  “You like,” she said, turning around.

  “Yes, I do.” He patted the bed. “Come over here and sit beside me.”

  “No way,” she said, ducking into the bathroom. She pulled her hair back, tied it up in a ponytail. “I have stuff to do today, and weren’t you going into the office this morning?”

  “Changed my mind,” he said, suddenly behind her. He kissed her neck softly.

  “What are you doing?” she said, fighting the warm, tingling sensation running down her body.

  “Appreciating my wife,” he murmured behind her.

  “Is that a proposal?”

  His smile left him and his deep blue eyes glistened. He took her hand and gazed softly at her. “Yes, it is. I love you.”

  Her heart stopped, and her breath caught in her throat. Oh, my God! He said, he wants to marry me! She put her hand to her mouth and her legs wobbled.

  “Well? What about it?” he said softly. “You want to marry this old man?”

  She studied his large round face. Felt the slight trembling of his hand. Heard his breath being stolen from him. Felt his palpable fear of uncertainty. She tried to untangle the knot of sudden emotions washing over her. “Yes. Yes I’ll marry you.”

  He blinked and kissed her tenderly. “You trying to kill me?”

  She grinned, and a giddy sensation rose inside her. “No. Not until I’m your beneficiary.” She hugged him fiercely, and they tumbled back into the bedroom and onto to the bed.

  13

  Eight months later -

  Janet spooned up to Neil and draped her arm over him. She hadn’t slept well for the last three days since she’d gotten the news from her doctor. How could this have happened? I’ve been careful. More than that, do I want a baby, and how do I tell him? Her gaze slipped out the window toward the ever-brightening dawn sky. Their wedding was planned for mid September. She would definitely be showing by then. Everything would have to be changed. And how would it look to his family, Megan especially, if things were escalated to accommodate her condition? She wasn’t so concerned for herself as she was for Neil. He was a private man, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

  He stirred and rolled over onto his back. His arm lifted up and ran under her pillow. A hand touched her shoulder. His fingers softly brushed her skin. She saw him blink and then he rolled a lazy eye toward her.

  “Morning,” he muttered.

  She buried her head into the warmth of his shoulder. Listened to his beating heart, rode the undulation of his chest as it rose and fell. “I love you,” she said. Her hand grazed over his chest. Her stomach churned. She wanted to hide, to pretend her pregnancy was only a dream.

  “Love you too,” he replied.

  He pulled her tighter, and she heard him yawn. She said, “I have something to tell you.”

  Another yawn. “What’s that?”

  She gathered her thoughts. No matter how she put this, it would change everything. “I went to the doctor on Monday.”

  “What about?”

  She took a deep breath. Summoned her courage. “I missed my period.” She closed her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  Dead silence.

  “Neil?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Say something?”

  He pulled his arm out from underneath her and rolled onto his side, facing her. “I’m not sure what to say. A child, wow! How do you feel about it?”

  “I don’
t know.”

  He studied her. “Do you want one?”

  “Yes … and no.” Her throat tightened. “I mean … I’ve never seen myself as a mother. I love kids, but the thought of having one terrifies me. And then there’s all the plans we made for the wedding. They’ll have to be ditched. And what will your family think?”

  He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face toward him. “There’s nothing for us to be sorry for. We’re both in this together. And don’t you worry about my family. It is what it is.” He kissed her forehead and was quiet a moment. At last he said, “Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. And when it does, you roll with it. You’ll be a fabulous mother. And wedding plans can be changed.”

  “You’re not upset?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want any more children.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it. But then again, I wasn’t planning on falling in love again, either.” He grinned. “Wow, I can hardly believe it. I’m gonna be a dad again.” He pulled her into his arms and they entwined with a tender kiss.

  The weeks rolled past at lightning speed. Janet felt like she was on a roller coaster. The worst of it had centered on her up and down emotions. Tears flowed often when she was alone. She couldn’t see any clear end to all the wedding re-arrangements. But it was the over-powering fear of suddenly having a child that terrified her most.

  She stepped out of the shower and stood, viewing her blossoming body in the mirror. She was now four months along and the ever-present background nausea of the last month had finally subsided. Hopefully, she wouldn’t outgrow the wedding dress in the next two weeks.

  She toweled off and dressed. Neil had already left for work. Her father was due within the hour. They were going to get him a new suit for the wedding. He’d be giving her away.

  She envisioned him walking her along a flower-laden path on the beach to Neil. Could almost feel his hand on her arm. See the look in his eye. He had softened and opened up in subtle ways over the last few months. She liked the changes and she was changing too. Yes, she’d get past the secrets and the lies. She’d do it because she wanted to.

  Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Her father was in what he called his west-coast attire. White socks and sneakers, navy-blue polo shirt and tan slacks. A flat-brimmed navy blue cap rode over his receding hairline.

  He gave her a hug. “Morning Skeeter. How’s my girl?”

  “I’m good.” She led him to the kitchen. “I’m almost ready. Coffee?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. Have you eaten?”

  “Just a bagel.”

  “Well, let’s go for breakfast then. My treat.”

  She looked sidelong at him. Took a gulp of tea. “You’re bound and determined to fatten me up aren’t you?”

  “Just want my grand–“ He cleared his throat and looked away. “Your son to be healthy.”

  Janet sighed and went to him. “Dad, it’s okay. He’s your grandson!” She looked him straight in the eye. “Okay?”

  “I … I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  Haven’t we had this conversation before? She took his hand and held it. “Look, the past is the past. You’re my dad, and I want my baby to have a grandpa. So you start thinking of him like that.”

  His face brightened, and his eyes glistened. “Will do, boss. Let’s go eat now.”

  They ended up in a small café in town. Her father ate while she looked out the window beside their table. Her thoughts were a million miles away, envisioning life with a baby. How it would change her. She thought of Megan. Saw in her mind’s eye how she fussed with Kyle. All the kisses and hugs. Then remembered the night Megan had been raped and how she had been left alone to take care of Kyle while his mother fought for her life. At one level, Janet knew she could handle a child, but this was her baby, not Megan’s, and there was a lot more to it than playing and changing diapers.

  “Hey, you’ve hardly touched your food,” her father said.

  She smiled. “I’m not all that hungry, I guess.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  He frowned. “Everything’ll be just fine.”

  “I know.” She pushed a chunk of hash browns around her plate with her fork. “So, you excited about shopping with me for a suit?”

  He broke into a devilish grin. “As long as you don’t drag me all over creation.”

  She giggled then decided to break into something that had been on her mind all morning. “You think I’m rushing into this?”

  “What? Getting married?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I love him, but…”

  “But what?”

  “You know–the baby and everything.”

  Her father set his fork down. “You were planning on marrying him anyway, right?”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. You know…” She took a sip of her tea.

  He sat with her comment a minute, then said, “I guess the question is: what’s changed? I mean, what’s changed in how you feel about him?”

  Didn’t Neil ask her this same question once before about her father? Ironic! She nodded. “It just feels like we’re doing this to make things look right. It doesn’t feel good.”

  “Look Skeeter, I’m no expert on this stuff. But to me, it boils down to how you feel about him. Set this baby aside a minute and ask yourself why you wanted to marry him in the first place. If the answer’s still the same, then what difference does it make?”

  “Do you like him? I mean, you’ve never really said much.”

  Her father eyed her and sat back. “He’s a little old for you. Then again, you were always more comfortable with older people. Yeah, I like him. He’s a good man from where I sit.”

  “Megan’s not too thrilled.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. But you’re not marrying her.”

  “No, I’m marrying her father.”

  He smiled. “I can imagine she’s not thrilled having a mother-in-law only a couple of years older than her. She’ll get over it.”

  Right Dad. And pigs fly. “One can only hope.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “As long as you love him and he loves ya back, it’ll be all right. Now, come on. Eat up. We have shopping to do.”

  Her father dropped her off at home around three. They had bought him a conservative brown suit and tie. Since he refused to go bare foot, she had to talk him into a pair of sandals. She shut the door and watched him pull out of the driveway.

  “Come on, Barney. Mommy needs to lie down.” She went up stairs to the bedroom with the dog padding behind her. Along the way, she passed a stack of boxes outside of the bedroom that was being renovated for the baby. She grabbed the top box then peered into the empty room waiting for trim work and a new coat of paint. In her mind’s eye, she saw the white crib with a Teddy Bear mobile slowly spinning over it. Then, as if the baby inside her sensed her thoughts, she felt it move. She smiled.

  She went to the bedroom, set the box on the bed, pulled her shirt up and stood in front of the mirror, profiling her belly. Excitement raced through her, and with it came a strong urge to call Neil, but he was working. She’d tell him when he got home. Right now, she needed a nap.

  She kicked off her shoes, moved the box to the floor and crawled onto the bed. Dragging the blanket over her, she closed her eyes only to open them again as the writing on cardboard box registered in her brain. She sat up, pulled the box up onto the bed with her and read, ‘PERSONAL STUFF’.

  She pulled the flaps back and before her lay a pile of photos and a stack of neatly tied letters.

  Shutting the flap, she reread the prominent lettering. She sat there a moment, debating. Slowly, her hand pulled the flap back open, and crept into the box then quickly came out. This is none of my business, except … Except that part of her wanted to know what he was like under the mask he showed the world. She closed her eyes. Again, her hand went back into the box. Maybe just one
or two letters.

  An hour later she was deep into the stack. With every word she read, her throat tightened. The letters weren’t addressed to anyone, but rather they were his thoughts poured out about the pain he went through after Sharon’s death. Suddenly, she was frightened. Could she ever fill that void?

  “What are you doing?”

  She startled and looked up. “Neil! You’re home. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  His face knotted. “Put them away please.”

  “Yeah, sure. I … I’m sorry. I was just looking for a place to put stuff and I–”

  He came in and gently took the letters from her and put them back in the box. “Why would you do this?”

  Her shoulders sagged, and her stomach flipped. “I … I don’t know. I just … I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her like a wounded animal, picked the box up, and left the room. Sudden tears welled in her eyes. Oh, God, what have I done?

  That night as they lay in bed, Janet replayed her invasion of Neil’s privacy over and over again in her head. Of all people, she knew the sacredness of one’s private writings. And yet she’d violated it. She felt awful not because she had been caught or that she had broken her own commandment, but because she knew she had lost Neil’s trust.

  Neil lay on his side, turned away from her. He had never turned away from her before. She didn’t know what to do or say. A deep chasm had opened between them. He was unreachable and she was terrified.

  “I love you,” she said into the moonlit silence and waited for a reply. There was none. “Neil, if you’re awake, please say something.”

  “What do you want me to say?” he said at last.

  Janet clenched her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Please believe me.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  She thought about it a long time before she answered. “I wanted to know if you were the same inside as you are outside with me.”

  His voice flattened. “And did you find what you were looking for?”

  Her throat tightened. She wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to feel safe in his love. “Yes.”

 

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