The Marriage Wish

by Dee Henderson

  Her decision had placed him at the point he was going to have to make a decision of his own.

  He could begin to look for another lady to be his wife. If he wanted a family, that was his option. In his head he knew that, but the thought lingered only long enough for his heart to response. He loved Jennifer. There was no way he could walk away from her.

  That left only the toughest road—to deal with his own grief of not having a family and reach the point where he could accept that cost. It made Scott painfully aware of what he would never have. An infant of his own to hold, rock to sleep, teach to walk. There would be no son or daughter racing to the door when he got home from work, eager to be picked up and hugged.

  He could adjust to that reality. Eventually. He knew he could. If Jennifer gave him the chance. She might walk away from him for good rather than let him sacrifice his dream for a family. She had that kind of courage inside, and it scared Scott.

  God, why did you do this? Why did Colleen die? Why did you let Jennifer get so badly hurt? Why am I being asked to lose my dream of a family?

  The emotions tore into his words, and he stormed the beach for over an hour until his legs were spent and the anger was spent and one decision was burned into stone. He was not walking away from her.

  Okay, God. What are we going to do?

  The prayer came from his gut as he stopped at the top of a rise and looked out over the water. He had had his back to the wall before, and God had gotten him out, there had to be some plan for this time.

  He didn’t know enough.

  He had seen the episode at the hospital, had seen the panic suddenly hit her. He knew she was afraid. But what specifically was she afraid of? What triggered the terror? Was it being pregnant? Was it the age of the child? Was it the hospital experience? Was she afraid of a second marriage, as well, losing another husband? He needed answers, because one thing was clear inside.

  He was not walking away.

  “Jennifer, can I get you anything else? A cup of hot tea maybe?” Rachel asked as she stopped beside the recliner where Jennifer was watching the kids play outside in the snow.

  “Thanks, Rachel, but I’m okay for now,” Jennifer replied, grateful for her friend’s concern. In the past three days a cold had settled deep into her chest. The stress of the severed relationship with Scott was taking its toll on her mood as well as her physical health.

  Tiffany, Alexander and Tom were all having fun out in the snow. It was not much, only a light dusting, but it was enough to enjoy. Jennifer smiled sadly as she watched them play.

  Her decision had been the only one she could make, but that didn’t make the pain less. She had been ducking Scott’s calls the past few days, afraid he might try to change her mind. Afraid to let him close. She had not told Peter and Rachel what had happened, but her friend seemed to know. Jennifer thought she had masked her grief about Colleen, but it was apparent Rachel at least suspected the truth.

  “Christmas is three weeks away, and I’ve still got so much to do,” Rachel said as she came back into the living room and took a seat beside Jennifer. “Christmas cookies and decorations and presents to buy.” She smiled. “I love it. You are still planning to come for Christmas Eve, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Jennifer said with a smile. “Can I bring anything?”

  “Scott,” Rachel replied, and Jennifer felt her smile stiffen. Three weeks from now Scott might not even be talking to her. “I’ll ask him,” she told Rachel.

  It was so tough to love someone. She had to consider what was best for Scott, and she wasn’t best for him anymore. She shivered. The thought of losing another child terrified her. She so desperately wanted him in her life, but not if it cost him his own dreams for a family. She would regret forever letting him give up his dreams.

  “He’s a good man, Jen,” Rachel said, watching her.

  “Yes, he is,” Jennifer agreed, a catch in her voice. She paused to cough hard, feeling like her lungs were going to tear apart.

  Jennifer smiled as her niece and nephews came bundling into the house, crowded around to ask if she had seen them make their snow angels. She loved these three kids. “Would a kiss make your cold better?” Tiffany asked as she pulled off her gloves.

  “It might help,” Jennifer offered, and Tiffany threw her cold hands around Jennifer’s neck and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “I want you to get better.”

  There were tears in Jennifer’s eyes as she hugged the girl. “Thank you, munchkin.”

  “Jennifer.”

  She paused at the front door and turned, surprised. Scott. He was here. For five days she had avoided answering the phone, had played his messages and forced herself to not reply. She had hoped if she could make him angry, he would feel the pain less. And still he had come. She watched him walk up the front drive and her eyes looked at him, hungrily, having missed him so badly. He looked as rough as she felt. He had not had a good five days. “Scott. Why are you here?” she asked quietly as he joined her.

  He took the keys from her hand and unlocked her front door. “To talk to you. Not answering my calls is not going to make the problem go away,” he replied firmly, pushing open the door. He waited for her to precede him. She could see the determination in his face. He wanted to talk.

  Jennifer tried to shore up her resolve and walked into the house before him. Ignoring him, she went into the kitchen, took off her coat and found a glass. She had been to see the doctor, and his diagnosis of walking pneumonia had somehow seemed fitting. She felt terrible. Scott was in the kitchen doorway watching her, as she opened the prescription bottle she had picked up from the pharmacy and swallowed the pills. She tipped her glass toward him. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “A stiff drink seems fitting, but I’ll fix some coffee later,” Scott replied. He was looking at her and she didn’t like the fact he seemed to see everything going on inside her at a glance.

  Scott’s intense need to talk was fading. The fact he was simply with her again was changing his agenda. “Have you had lunch yet, Jennifer?”

  She grimaced. “Half a bagel while I waited for the prescription to get filled.”

  He smiled and dropped his coat across one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit. I’ll see if you have anything of interest for lunch.”

  “You don’t have to cook for me.”

  He stopped in front of her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “I want to. It makes me feel useful. So just say yes.”

  “Yes.” She leaned forward to place her head against his chest, and his hands closed around her. “I’ve missed you, Scott. I just don’t have the energy to talk right now.”

  The hands holding her tightened. “Well I’m not letting you shut me out. Got that, Jen? If I have to push my way back in, I’ll do so. I don’t like you ignoring my calls.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “You’re forgiven. As long as you don’t do it again. Now sit while I get to work.”

  Jennifer sat, her head in her hand, and watched him work. He moved around her kitchen, searching cupboards, looking through the refrigerator, and he soon had lunch underway. Jennifer smiled and watched him.

  She had missed him so much. He was big and strong and solid and there, and she loved him so much. She wished things were different, that they had met at a different time in their lives when they would have fit together and not now, when there was destined to be only hurt between them.

  Another round of coughing stopped her thinking, and she struggled to regain her breath. Scott brought her a cup of hot tea and rested his hand on her forehead, clearly disturbed that she was sick. Jennifer wanted to lean into his hand. She was simply so weary. She wanted to curl up and go to sleep for hours. She pulled back, causing him to frown. She had been sick before in the last three years, it was just a bad cold, no big deal. It was weakness to lean on Scott after having told him the relationship could go no further.

  Scott brought over l
unch—soup, salad and fresh fruit.

  “Thank you. This looks delicious,” Jennifer said, doing her best to do the meal justice. “You took today off from work,” she suddenly realized.

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes, obviously in pain. “I didn’t intend this, Scott. I should have called you.”

  “I still would have come,” he replied. “I can tell you’re feeling rotten. Do you want to go lie down for a while or could we talk?”

  “There’s nothing left to talk about, Scott.”

  “Yes there is. I love you, Jen, and you love me,” he said with quiet confidence, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Well sometimes pain comes with love,” she replied.

  “I’m not letting you go, Jen.”

  “You need a wife who can give you a family,” she replied, destroying her own hope for his sake.

  “I need you.”

  “And if I can’t accept that? What then?”

  “I can out-wait you, Jen. Eventually your pain is going to fade to the point you can risk a second marriage.”

  “I won’t let you give up your dream, Scott. You’ll resent me for the rest of our lives, and I don’t need the extra guilt to carry.”

  Scott sighed. “Don’t sell us short, Jen. Would you rather I stay single for the rest of my life? That’s what you’re really asking me to do.”

  “You shouldn’t be outside with your cold.”

  Jennifer turned on her heels to see Scott approaching.

  “Peter told me where you would be,” Scott said, not liking at all the puffy eyes and pale face he saw. Jennifer looked awful. He had been trying to reach her last night and this morning with no answer, just the voice of her machine saying to leave a message. She had asked both him and Peter to let her spend this day alone, but Scott couldn’t honor that request. She needed someone with her on this day. He needed to be with her today.

  There was nothing at the cemetery to block the wind, and it was bitterly cold for mid-December. Scott came to a stop beside Jennifer, looked with pain down at the two headstones on the grave site. He set the bouquet of peach roses he carried down on Colleen’s grave. He wanted to take Jennifer’s hand, offer some comfort, but she had both hands shoved in her pockets, her expression filled with pain as she looked not at the present but at the past.

  When she still stood motionless some minutes later, Scott grew concerned enough he reached out his hand and gently brushed her cheek. His heart was breaking at the pain she was experiencing. “Jen, can you tell me what you’re thinking about?”

  Jennifer was remembering a previous conversation with Scott.

  “I wish I had a picture of Colleen with me so I could show it to you. She had such vivid blue eyes. She used to tilt her head just this certain way and look at you. Then smile.

  “She was so tiny when she was born it was a struggle for her to be awake. It took all her energy. So she would lay there and blink at me with this surprised expression in her eyes. They had to feed her through patches on her back for the first two weeks. It was such a wonderful day when she began to suck.”

  “What do you miss the most, Jennifer?”

  “The fact my life doesn’t revolve around her anymore. She gave me a reason to get up every morning. Even if the routine consisted of going to the hospital for the day and sitting with her, she was there. It was devastating after she died not to have her there. I had grown so attached.”

  “Do you think about having other children, Jennifer?”

  “No. Colleen was such a traumatic experience it is going to take a long time for the intensity of those memories to fade. I couldn’t risk going through that again.”

  “You loved Colleen. You would love another child with the same intensity.”

  “In my mind will always be the fact I lost my eldest daughter.”

  “Scott, why did she have to die? She was so small, so tiny, she had her whole life ahead of her. It wasn’t fair that she died.”

  Scott wrapped his arms around her and simply hugged her. “I know it wasn’t fair, Jen.”

  “I killed her.” Scott felt something cut into his heart at those words. “If I’d only taken better care of myself, she wouldn’t have been born early,” Jennifer sobbed.

  Scott tightened his grip. He couldn’t take away the guilt Jennifer was feeling. “Jen, Peter told me a lot about those weeks. You held on long enough to give Colleen life. That was a miracle itself. Your doctors never expected you to make it as long as you did, did Peter ever tell you that? When your blood pressure dropped the doctors were sure you were going to lose the baby. But you didn’t. Colleen lived because you held on. Please don’t feel this added guilt.”

  She was crying against his coat, and Scott was helpless to stop her pain. He let her cry and gently rocked her and read the two gravestones over and over.

  “You need to get out of this wind,” he whispered gently when her tears began to lessen. “Would you come with me? Peter and I will come back for your car.”

  She nodded, not lifting her head.

  Scott walked her back to his car, carefully tucked her into the passenger seat. He turned the heat in the car on full blast and took a few extra minutes to rub her frozen hands. Because she was flushed he lifted his hand to brush her forehead and found she was hot, running at least a hundred-and-one temperature. “Have you eaten today?” he asked gently, tipping her chin up so he could see her eyes.

  She shook her head. Scott wasn’t surprised.

  He called her brother from the car and told him Jennifer was going to be at his place. Jennifer, beside him, barely indicated that she heard the conversation. She rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  Scott looked over at her as he drove. He was convinced she had lost at least ten pounds since that awful day when she had said a definite no to having children. She was giving up hope. Finding her at Colleen’s grave today didn’t surprise him, but it did worry him. She had no equilibrium about her when she thought about Colleen. She had adjusted to, even accepted Jerry’s death. She hadn’t done the same with Colleen. She hadn’t been able to let go of the trauma. But her comment at the cemetery was at least a clue why. She believed her actions had killed Colleen. Lord, what am I suppose to do? How do I best help her?

  She was asleep when Scott pulled into the drive of his house. He didn’t wake her. He unlocked the house, propped the door open and gently carried Jennifer inside and laid her carefully down on the couch. He found an afghan his mother had made to cover her with and then he went to the kitchen to fix something she might be able to eat. She needed to take something for the fever, but he would have to wake her to find out what she had taken, and Scott decided the sleep was more important.

  He fixed potato soup and toasted bagels for their lunch, carried the food into the living room. “Jen.” He shook her shoulder gently. She came awake, groggy, confused. “I brought you some aspirin for the fever. Have you taken anything recently?” Scott asked.

  Jennifer struggled to think, lifted the cover back with a hand that felt too heavy to move. “No. Not since early this morning.” Scott handed her the aspirins and she swallowed the pills. The lunch smelled so good, and her head, her eyes, hurt so badly.

  Scott sat down beside her on the couch, gently brushed back her hair. “Do you want to try to eat?” he asked quietly.

  Jennifer closed her eyes, relishing his touch, having missed him so much in the last several days. “In a minute,” she replied softly. She opened her eyes a short time later, looked at him with such sadness in her eyes. “Thank you for coming today. I told you not to come, but I was wrong. It was hard to be there alone.”

  “I’ll always be there for you, Jen, please remember that. I’m not going away.” Scott could tell she wanted to argue the point, argue that he needed to go away, but the cold was too strong, and she didn’t have the strength left to fight. “Try some of the soup,” he said, helping her sit up. He sat beside her as she ate, finishing off hi
s own bowl of soup in a fraction of the time it took Jennifer to eat a few bites. When she had eaten all she could, he turned her sidewise on the couch and pulled her to rest back against his chest, and he wrapped the afghan around her and simply held her. He wanted to talk, to ask questions and hear answers and work out a way to heal the pain, but it was not the right time, and there would be a right time; he had to believe that. He held her and let the warmth of his arms help fight the chills that still occasionally rippled through her. “I’ve missed you,” he said gently.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Scott was incredibly pleased to hear those soft words. Jennifer fell asleep in his arms.

  Scott was content to simply sit and hold her. When Quigley came looking for them, Scott quietly directed the puppy to come curl up in Jennifer’s lap. She woke enough to hug the puppy and drift back to sleep with him snuggled in her arms.

  It was harder than last time to convince Jennifer to take a guest bedroom and get some real sleep. She had no intention of staying overnight, and Scott had no intention of letting her be home alone. He gave her the option of staying with Peter and Rachel, or staying with his sister, but he refused to consider letting her be home alone. With Peter backing him up, Scott was finally able to convince her to take a guest room for the night. He put her to bed with a drink on the nightstand beside her, aspirins she could take later that night and extra blankets to keep her from getting chilled.

  Scott stood on the landing after finally saying good-night to his guest, and he had to smile. Jennifer was not a good patient.

  She slept through breakfast the next morning. Scott was reading the paper around ten when Jennifer finally appeared in the kitchen. Scott wished he could say she looked better, but the fever had done a severe number on her appearance. He didn’t care. At least she was up and walking. “Good morning,” he said gently, getting up from the table to meet her.

  “Is there coffee fixed?” she asked, her voice husky.

  “Yes. I’ll get it. Take a seat, Jen.”

  She sat down, weary beyond comprehension.