The Marriage Wish

by Dee Henderson

  The restaurant Scott chose surprised Jennifer. French. Quiet. Elegant. Their table, tucked in the corner, very private. Jennifer found herself on uncertain ground. She looked over at Scott.

  His smile was gentle. “Relax, Jennifer. It’s going to be a quiet evening, nothing more.”

  His soft reassurance made her blush with embarrassment.

  “Stop that, Jennifer,” he said, his voice suddenly stern, his hand reaching over to grasp hers. “Caution does not warrant an apology.”

  “It does if it’s unfounded.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He released her hand. “Please, Jennifer, trust me. You don’t have to apologize for being cautious.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Thank you, Scott.”

  He frowned. “Jennifer, what happened today? Something is seriously wrong.”

  She looked up. The waiter joining them to take their orders, gave her a reason not to answer immediately. Their orders given, once again alone, Jennifer looked over at Scott and debated how to answer him. “I had a fight with God,” she finally admitted.

  His serious expression told her how strongly he took that news.

  “It’s not the first one we have had, nor will it likely be the last one. But the aftereffects are difficult to deal with.”

  “Why, Jennifer?”

  “Scott, there is a great deal you don’t know about me. I don’t know that I can explain everything that is going on. I am still at odds with God over some basic issues involving Jerry.” She sighed. “I pushed my case on one of those issues last night.”

  “Are you okay, Jennifer?”

  “He’s my Father, Scott. I don’t like being at odds with Him. But I don’t understand Him at times, and it is not an easy position to be in. It’s just going to take some time to resolve.”

  “Jennifer, do you want to talk about the issues? I’ll help if I can.”

  I would have to tell you about Colleen. I don’t want you to see that side of me, Scott, that angry, hurting side of me. There is a limit to what a new relationship can support. I can’t share that level of grief. Not yet. She reached over to touch his hand. “Thank you, Scott. I will take you up on that offer sometime. I can’t tonight.”

  He squeezed her hand. “It’s an open offer, Jennifer.”

  Dinner arrived. They both kept the conversation light during dinner, away from emotional subjects. Jennifer began to relax. By the end of the meal, Scott had succeeded in making her laugh several times. “Thank you, Scott,” she said softly, gratefully, as they crossed the parking lot.

  He hugged her. “That’s what friends are for, Jennifer.” He held the car door for her, closing it softly once she had slipped inside.

  “Would you rather pass on meeting Heather tonight?”

  It was a tempting offer. “No, Scott. Let’s get it over with.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to be so nervous about this, Jennifer. Heather promised to be on her best behavior.”

  She’s pregnant, Scott. That’s the real problem. Jennifer forced a smile. “She’s your sister, Scott.”

  “Don’t hold it against her. As she so often says, she didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Okay, Scott.”

  It was a thirty-minute drive to Heather and Frank’s home. The house was two stories with white siding and a van parked in the driveway. As Jennifer expected, the yard was beautifully landscaped. The porch light was on. Scott pulled into the driveway behind the van.

  Scott put a comforting arm around Jennifer’s waist as they walked toward the front door. The door opened within moments of Scott ringing the doorbell. Heather’s husband, Frank. “Scott. Jennifer. Welcome. Please, come in.” Frank held the door for them with a smile.

  “Jennifer, this is my sister’s husband, Frank.” Scott did the introductions once they were inside.

  “Hello, Frank,” Jennifer said with a nervous smile.

  Frank took her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Jennifer. Let me take your coats. Come in and make yourselves comfortable. Heather’s on her way down. The kids are already in bed.”

  The living room was beautiful. White carpet. Bold red, green and blue fabrics for the two love seats, the easy chairs. Scott’s hand on her waist, warm through the fabric of her dress, was a comforting guide.

  “Scott! I am sorry. I was working in the nursery.”

  Jennifer didn’t need to be told this was Heather. The lady was very petite, at most five feet two inches. She carried being pregnant beautifully. Scott met her with a hug. “Hi, Twig.” He smiled at the paint splatters on her face. “Let me guess…you’re working on the forest.”

  “Yes.” She rubbed at the offending paint drops, her attention already turning to her guest. Scott reached back for Jennifer’s hand.

  “Jennifer, this is my sister, Heather. Heather, Jennifer St. James.”

  “Hi,” Heather said softly, her natural shyness competing with an intense interest in Scott’s new friend.

  Jennifer bravely smiled in return. “Hello, Heather.”

  Both men were quick to step in to ease the tension. “Jennifer, Scott, would you like some coffee?” Frank asked.

  “Please,” Scott replied for both of them. “Heather, sit down, get off your feet. We won’t stay long. How is the nursery coming?” Scott settled Jennifer on the love seat beside him, his fingers interlacing with hers, which were surprisingly cold.

  “I’m almost halfway done with the forest,” Heather replied. “I’ve been painting a mural around the nursery, something to make it different…not just white walls,” she explained for Jennifer’s benefit.

  Jennifer found if she looked at Heather’s face she could keep her nerves under control. “Did you create the design yourself, or are you using stencils?” she asked, working hard to keep her voice steady.

  “Stencils. I found them in a children’s book and then enlarged them.”

  Jennifer was intrigued. “Does the mural cover the entire wall?”

  Heather grinned. “Yes. Frank gets to paint the part by the floor.”

  Frank came back in carrying a tray of coffee cups. He handed them around. A black Samoyed followed him into the room.

  “Hi, Blackie.” Scott greeted the dog.

  “She’s beautiful.” The dog came over to say hello. Jennifer ran her hand along the warm fur of the dog’s back.

  “Would you like to see her puppies, Jennifer?” Heather offered.

  “Yes, I would.”

  Heather waved both her husband and her brother back to their seats. “Stay put, we won’t be long.”

  Scott felt the flutter in Jennifer’s pulse. He gently squeezed her hand as she got up. The ladies left the room, walked through the house to the back patio where a small greenhouse had been built.

  “Sorry, Jennifer, but it’s rather difficult to talk about my brother when he’s in the room. How do you like him so far?”

  Jennifer chuckled. Heather was perfect. “I like him, Heather.”

  Heather smiled. “Good.” She held open the door to the greenhouse. “The puppies have a home out here for the time being.” She turned on the overhead lights. The room was warm, smelled moist, of earth, foliage and the fragrant smell of flowers.

  Jennifer followed Heather slowly, captivated by the plants, the flowers, the violets. Jennifer stopped to carefully touch the leaves of a beautiful purple flowering violet.

  “Do you like it? It’s one of my personal favorites.”

  “I love it.”

  “I’ll send you a couple of plants home. All they need is sunlight and water and they thrive.”

  Jennifer grimaced. “I just killed my last violets. The flowers around my porch are surviving by pure luck. I am not known for my ability to care for anything that is green.”

  Heather chuckled. “You can learn. Look at Scott. The man could turn anything brown within a week, but he’s gotten better with time.”

  “Scott actually waters plants?”

  Heather
laughed. “You would be surprised.”

  The four puppies were curled up together on a quilt in a big basket, all sleeping.

  “Heather, they are adorable.” Jennifer gently stroked the soft fur of the two nearest puppies.

  “I think so. The kids love them.” Heather picked up the nearest puppy. “This is Pepper. He has the only markings in the litter. Two white feet.”

  Jennifer chuckled. “Cute. What are the others’ names?”

  “The nearest one is Choc, short for chocolate, then Gretta, and finally Quigley.”

  Jennifer reached across to stroke the last puppy. He woke enough to open his eyes, lick her hand. “Who thought up the name Quigley?”

  Heather grinned. “Scott. He’s planning to adopt him when he gets a few weeks older.”

  “He will have his hands full.”

  Heather set Pepper back down on the quilt. “Yes, he will.” Heather groaned softly as she straightened.

  “When’s your baby due?”

  “Eight more weeks. Would you like to see the nursery, Jennifer?”

  Jennifer wanted to decline. Part of her also wanted to run the risk. She was curious to see what Heather had done with the nursery, see the mural. She took a chance. “Yes I would.”

  Heather led them back inside, up to the second floor.

  Jennifer hesitated in the doorway to the room, then forced herself to cross the threshold. The room was lovely. The furniture had been shifted to one side of the room to leave the wall with the mural open. Jennifer looked around the room. “Heather, I love it.” She could tell the colors had been carefully chosen to favor neither pink nor blue. “Do you know if you are going to have a boy or a girl?”

  “No. We decided we would rather wait.”

  Jennifer smiled. “Do you have a preference?”

  “Not a strong one. As long as my baby is healthy, I will be happy. I already know the delivery will have to be a cesarean-section. My rebuilt right hip will not allow a normal delivery. I’m not looking forward to that.”

  “If it’s going to be necessary, at least you know from the beginning. To go through hours of labor and then have to have a C-section would be awful.”

  Heather groaned. “That is an understatement.”

  “I love the curtains, Heather. Did you make them yourself?”

  “Mom made them for me.”

  “This will be their third grandchild?”

  “Yes. Scott has disappointed Mom, she always hoped he would be the first to have a family.”

  Jennifer absorbed that remark, tucking it away as confirmation of something she already suspected. She walked over to study the mural design. If she looked closely, she could see the design yet to be painted penciled on the wall. “This looks very intricate.”

  “It is taking much longer than I originally planned. The leaves are so detailed.”

  “There’s a leopard,” Jennifer said in surprise, finding the penciled figure in the mural.

  Heather joined her, carefully tracing the penciled figure. “He is going to be so key to the mural that I haven’t yet had the nerve to begin painting him.”

  Jennifer nodded. “At least you have lots of leaves to practice on.”

  Heather smiled. “Exactly.”

  Eventually, after inspecting everything in the room, discussing future plans for furniture and colors, they left the nursery together. “How did you like the play?” Heather asked as they made their way back downstairs.

  “I loved it. Scott told me he stood you up.”

  Heather laughed. “I forgave him. At least he was not using work as an excuse this time.”

  “Is it just a wrong impression, or does Scott work too hard?”

  Heather considered the question carefully. “He’s the first one in our family to reach such an important position, I don’t really have a reference to say what is normal for a position such as his. I know he doesn’t relax easily, that the job is always there weighing on his mind. He has to continually struggle to have a life away from his job.”

  Jennifer nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks, Heather.”

  “Sure. Scott tells me you recently finished another book?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve read all of your books. You’re a very good writer, Jennifer.”

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said, caught off guard.

  Heather grinned. “Don’t be so modest. I envy you your talent. One of these days, we need to go to lunch together. I would love to hear what it’s like to be a writer.”

  Jennifer laughed. “I would like that.”

  They joined the two men in the living room. Jennifer smiled for Scott’s benefit as she joined him on the couch. The fact she had survived a trip to the nursery was her biggest accomplishment in weeks. She was very relieved to have the experience over, but also very glad she had agreed.

  The evening ended shortly thereafter. It was late. Without anything being said, Scott knew his sister was tired. Frank was sent to the greenhouse to bring back two beautiful violets. Jennifer gracefully accepted the gift.

  Goodbyes were said without being drawn out.

  Jennifer leaned her head back against the seat as Scott pulled the car out of the drive. She let out her breath in a deep sigh of relief.

  “Was it that hard?”

  Jennifer didn’t bother to soften her answer. “Yes.”

  Scott looked over at her, curious, wishing she would explain. Everything he had seen said Jennifer and Heather had hit it off, were already on the way to becoming friends. Jennifer’s assessment did not match his observation. “Why was it hard?” Scott asked, feeling the need to push for an answer.

  “She’s pregnant,” Jennifer finally replied.

  “That’s a problem?”

  She nodded.

  Scott looked over at Jennifer, needing answers. Her expression stopped his next question. She was seriously hurting. He reached over to grasp her hand. This is the issue Lord, isn’t it? “Talk to me, Jennifer. What’s going on?”

  It was time to tell him. She abruptly changed the subject. “Could we go for a walk on the beach? Could you handle another late night?”

  Her request surprised him. “Sure, if you would like to.”

  “Please.”

  Chapter Seven

  Even with her coat on, Jennifer found the night air too cold to walk far, and her shoes weren’t made for walking on sand. At Scott’s suggestion, they went back to his place. He built a fire. With all the lights off, the living room took on a soft glow as the flames flickered around the logs, the only sound an occasional loud snap and sizzle as the sap in the wood burned.

  He pulled her down on the sofa beside him and tucked her gently against him. Her head cradled against his shoulder, Jennifer watched the flames in silence for some time. She could feel Scott breathing, even hear his heartbeat. His arms around her waist were strong and solid. It felt so good to be near him. It felt safe.

  “I lost a baby girl,” Jennifer said softly into the silence.

  She felt Scott’s reaction. The sudden stillness as his breathing stopped. “When, Jennifer?”

  He understood her pain. It was in his voice, in the way he was suddenly holding her. He understood her pain and was sharing it. Somewhere inside Jennifer a glimmer of hope began to form. She had taken such a risk in saying those words. Letting Scott see a memory that was still raw and unhealed. He could hurt her so badly with just a wrong word.

  She was crying. She had been so afraid Scott would be angry that she had not told him earlier.

  Scott looked down at the face of the most important woman who had ever been in his life and had to close his eyes at the pain he saw. His arms tightened around her. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He was not able to think of anything else to say. He rocked her gently in his arms and let her cry. He felt a few tears slip down his own face as well. She had been holding the memory inside all this time. So much now made sense. Her anger at God. Her hesitancy to really talk with him. Scott g
roaned. Her reluctance to be around young children. How could he have missed seeing something so desperately wrong? She was a lady fighting a battle with grief so severe it had been crushing her heart and he had not understood. “Jennifer. Honey, it’s going to be all right.” He gently wiped away the tears streaming down her face. A baby. She would have made such a wonderful mother.

  “Jennifer, tell me what happened.” He needed to know. Please, Lord, help her to tell me.

  There was a long silence as she tried to stop the tears. Scott waited, stroking her arms lightly, feeling the occasional tremor that ran down her back. She was in so much pain.

  “I couldn’t carry her to term. She was born badly premature.” She let out a shaky breath. “She was so beautiful, Scott. So awful tiny. She only weighed two pounds, two ounces. Her feet were less than an inch long, her fingers couldn’t even circle my little finger. She was less than eleven inches long. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.” She took a deep breath and let it out on a sob. “They said she wouldn’t live. Her lungs were not developed, and the stress of having to breathe before she was physically ready to do so was such a crisis for her. But she was born, and alive, and she was going to live. You could see it in her blue eyes. She was such a fighter.”

  Scott gently brushed the hair back from Jennifer’s face, watching her expression, the pain, seeing the incredible intensity of love she had felt for her daughter. He could feel the crushing pain inside his own heart at what was coming. God, why?

  Jennifer smiled at a memory from the past. “But she did live, Scott. And she finally learned how to suck and she started to gain weight and she got stronger, and they even began to talk about miracles happening. I started to make her little clothes so she would have something to wear when she came home. I would spend my days at the hospital holding her and talking to her and telling her about her dad and she would smile at me with those vivid blue eyes.”

  There was a very long silence and Scott did not disturb it. He couldn’t.

  “She was ten weeks old when she got the cold. In the last week when she no longer had the energy to move, she would lie in the incubator and watch me with her vivid blue eyes and blink at me as I talked to her. She struggled so hard for each breath. I got my hand inside the incubator around all the tubes and slid my finger under her hand and stroked the back of her arm, and I prayed a very simple prayer. Lord, she needs another breath. And when she breathed, I would say thank you and I would pray again. We were a team. I prayed and God answered and she breathed.”