Neither Scott nor Jennifer minded the long drive to his parents’ home. It was a chance to share the enjoyment of the moment. Jennifer sat close to Scott as he drove, her hand tucked in his.
“Marry me soon,” Scott said over the Christmas music. He looked over at her, smiled. He’d read her fear correctly. She didn’t need time to question her decision. It didn’t matter what his friends and family thought. The wedding needed to be soon. When she didn’t respond, he looked over again. Her brown eyes were calm and clear and slightly wet. “Bad idea or good?”
“Good one,” she breathed. “Could we elope?”
He laughed. “No. Mom would kill me. How about thirty days? Third Saturday in January?”
Jennifer didn’t have to think about it. “Yes.”
Scott grinned. He could wait thirty days. Maybe.
His family was waiting for them to arrive, and when they pulled into the drive, Amy and Greg both came out to meet them, bundled up in coats and mittens. “Hi, Uncle Scott.” Scott picked Amy up with a laugh and tickled her. He ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Hi, Greg. Is lunch ready?”
“We were waiting for you,” Greg replied.
“Then let’s get inside,” he agreed. He caught Jennifer’s hand as they walked up the porch steps, shared a private smile with her.
It was his mother who first noticed the ring. Jennifer was taking off her coat and handing it to Scott’s father when Margaret caught her breath and immediately looked over Jennifer’s shoulder to Scott. He smiled and linked his arms around Jennifer’s shoulders.
“Mom, Dad, we’ve got some news.” He didn’t have to say more, his smile said it all. Jennifer was swept into a hug by his mother who was now laughing and wiping away tears, his father was hugging him, and both Heather and Frank were crowding into the entryway to celebrate the news. The kids were thrilled, their eyes sparkling with excitement.
The family was sitting down to lunch when Scott paused behind Jennifer’s chair, put his hands on her shoulders and looked around at his family. “We are getting married the third Saturday in January.” Surprise, shock, bewilderment, he saw them all on their faces. He smiled. “This decision is right for us. But we could use your help, there are details to sort out.”
Within an hour of the Christmas lunch announcement, Rachel and Peter and the kids had been invited over to make it a family celebration. Scott sat on the couch with Jennifer, watching his sister and mom tossing wedding details back and forth with Rachel. This felt right. This felt perfect. Their two families meshed so well. Jennifer had chosen colors for the dresses, and the wedding party had been decided on; they were working on the reception plans now.
From where he was sitting Scott could see Quigley trying to wrestle a tennis shoe underneath the great blue spruce in the foyer. Too tall and massive to fit in any conventional room, the Christmas tree towered in the curve of the stairway, reaching toward the skylight. He and Jennifer had helped decorate it, a process that involved leaning over the stair railing to reach the high branches. The gifts were gone now allowing Quigley a place he considered to be his new home, hiding down in the fluffy red-and-white tree skirt under the low branches. Scott saw Tiffany chase him down again, try to convince the puppy not to drink out of the Christmas tree base.
It was tradition in the neighborhood to go Christmas caroling on Christmas Eve, and as twilight came the adults began sorting out coats and gloves. All the kids wanted to go. Neighbors would have hot cider and cookies for the carolers. “Can I ride on your shoulders, Uncle Scott?” Amy asked, tugging at his hand.
“I’m staying here with Jennifer,” he replied, and Jennifer saw the disappointment on the little girl’s face.
“Go with them, Scott. There’s no need for you to stay simply because I’m getting over a bad cold.”
“I think the doctor called it pneumonia,” he reminded her.
“Mom, aren’t you coming?” Greg also looked disappointed.
“Mary Elizabeth is asleep upstairs. I need to stay here,” Heather told her son.
They were the only two holdouts, everyone else, including Peter and Rachel were going. “Listen, both of you, go with the kids. I can listen for Mary Elizabeth. She’s only been asleep half an hour. She’ll never know you were gone,” Jennifer insisted. She could see that this was a long-standing tradition, and she knew how much fun it was to go caroling.
“Jen, are you sure?” Heather asked.
“Positive.”
She looked at Scott. He reluctantly removed his arm and got up, leaned back down to kiss her. “I was hoping for thirty minutes on our own,” he whispered, and she laughed.
She saw everyone off, watched as they joined up with neighbors who were also out to go caroling. She closed the door with a laugh as Quigley tried to sneak through. “No, you don’t, friend. You get to keep me company. Tiffany will be back in an hour.”
The house was silent with everyone gone. The massive Christmas tree blinked its colored lights, the smell of greenery wonderful. It had been such a beautiful day.
Jennifer went over to the baby monitor and made sure it was turned all the way up. She sat on the couch and played tug of war with Quigley using an old rag someone had found for him. He grew tired of the game after about ten minutes, and Jennifer let him run again. He was going to eventually be one very tired puppy. Smiling, she picked up the glasses and dishes around on the tables and carried them into the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.
Twenty minutes and she had heard nothing from Mary Elizabeth. Jen knew what was driving her desire to check on the infant but went, anyway. She walked up the stairs with Quigley underfoot, quietly pushed open the door of the guest room where Margaret had a crib set up. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Jen watched her breathe, reached out very gently to touch the softness of her little hand. She was so beautiful. So big. So healthy. Jennifer watched her and smiled, quietly left the room.
The kids would be cold when they got back. Finding that Margaret had set out all the ingredients for hot chocolate, Jennifer read her recipe and set to work. She tasted the drink as it heated and knew she was going to have to get a copy. The recipe had a pinch of Dutch chocolate in it. It was delicious.
Quigley yelped. Jennifer tilted her head, trying to figure out where it had come from, but it was not repeated. Not liking the fact he hadn’t come bolting back into the kitchen after encountering another dust ball surprise, Jennifer carefully turned down the flame under the large pan heating the hot chocolate and set aside the long spoon. “Quigley? Where are you, boy?”
Jennifer walked through the living room, expecting to find him stuck under one of the couches. The flicker of orange caught the corner of her eye, and she turned. She froze. Flames were licking up the back of the Christmas tree. Smoke was beginning to billow up and fill the stairwell. The fire alarm went off just as she understood what was happening. The tree was big and dry, and the flames were engulfing it so quickly.
The baby. Quigley, who must be beneath the tree, she had to leave to fend for himself. There wasn’t time to call for help. There was only one way upstairs and it would soon be impassable. Covering her nose and mouth with her hands, Jen plowed through the smoke accumulating on the landing and made it to the upper hallway. The smoke was only beginning to collect here. It was still filling into the skylight.
Mary Elizabeth was crying at the piercing noise of the alarm. Jen gathered the infant and all her blankets together, tried to not let her own terror make her hold the baby too tightly. She lightly covered the baby’s face with the edge of a blanket to protect her from the smoke. She was not losing another baby. She would claw death in the face before she would let that happen.
The hallway was filling with smoke as she exited the guest room. She kept her head low. She could hear Quigley now, barking in a panic from somewhere downstairs, and she felt the relief. She loved that puppy.
“Hold on, Mary Elizabeth, it’s time to see what our exit looks like,” Jen told the child, try
ing to keep low to keep the screaming infant from breathing in smoke. Jen could feel it already burning her eyes and making her stressed lungs choke. She turned the corner and felt the intense heat hit her. The blue spruce was totally engulfed. The edges of the stairway carpet were on fire, and she couldn’t see to the bottom of the stairs, the smoke was so thick.
Jen ducked back away from the corner and the heat, choking on the smoke.
There was no other way off this floor but a window. It was the smoke that would kill them. Mary Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to survive even a couple of breaths of this acidic smoke. She couldn’t drop her from a second floor window. Knowing her options were limited, Jennifer rushed toward the nearest bedroom. There was not a single person on the street. She grabbed the blanket off the foot of the bed and ran to the bathroom. The shower drenched it in seconds and Jennifer didn’t waste time shutting the water off. She heard glass shatter. The fire had burst thru the skylight.
The flames now had a vent, and while the air fed the flames, it actually gave Jennifer one great big break. The smoke rushed up, the skylight becoming a large chimney. For the first time she got a look at the entire stairwell. None of the stairs had collapsed, the outer wall was still free of fire, the carpet showing itself surprisingly resistant to the dropping embers. It was melting, Jennifer realized, not burning.
“Mary Elizabeth, I love you,” Jen sobbed, kissing the still screaming infant, “please hold your breath.” She had to make the front door.
She wanted to run and could only hurry, forced to take the steps at a pace where she would not trip. She held the baby wrapped in the soaked blanket and turned toward the outer wall. The searing heat on her right came right through the wet blanket and drove her almost to her knees as she tried to slide past the burning tree. She was at the landing, and she could see the front door, near, and yet so many steps away. Her lungs stopped drawing air. The smoke combined with the lingering effects of pneumonia was too much to handle. Quigley was having a fit down below, desperate to reach her.
Mary Elizabeth was going to die in her care. Oh, God, no. Not again. Tears flooded her eyes, and she was choking.
She cleared the final step, whimpering at the pain and the desperate need to breathe, Mary Elizabeth tucked and protected in her arms.
God, please help me.
She didn’t make it to the front door.
“Look, Uncle Scott. Smoke!” Amy tugged his hair to get his attention. She was perched on his shoulders, looking all around. She had actually tugged his head in the direction of the smoke, and Scott couldn’t help but see it.
The girl came tumbling off his shoulders. “Dad, that’s Grandma’s place!”
There were fifteen adults in the caroling party, all neighbors. They were a block to the west of the house. They were seeing the vent of smoke billowing through the skylight.
“Mary Elizabeth!” Heather screamed.
Frank, Scott and Peter made the block at a dead run, cutting through flower beds and bushes. Flames were coming through the skylight now. There was no sign of Jennifer and the baby. The fire was in the worst part of the house, blocking the stairs, the hallway, all the exits. Scott got to the front door first, scalded his hand on the hot metal only to realize someone must have turned the latch, locking the door when it closed. Frank headed toward the back of the house.
Peter broke out the living room window.
If Jen was upstairs with the baby… Scott forced himself not to think about it. They would never get to them in time. The bedroom window above him blew out, showering them with glass.
Scott followed Peter through the window. The smoke billowing around the room choked him. “There!” Peter screamed to be heard over the deafening roar of the fire. She’d made it past the burning tree and to within touching distance of the front door. The wallpaper and hallway was totally engulfed in flames, the stairwell was gone. The burning tree was threatening to fall in her direction.
Peter scrambled to yank the burning floor rugs away from her face. “Get them out of there!”
Scott dropped to his knees and dove for her, feeling the heat try to burn him alive.
“Mary Elizabeth!”
“Here,” Scott yelled to Frank. Jen was curled around the infant.
Scott grabbed the two of them and yanked them clear of the leaning tree. Kneeling, he passed the crying infant to her father. Her cries were a wonderful sound.
The sodden blanket had protected Jen’s hair from burning, but she wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t breathing. “Grab her!” Scott yelled, lifting her toward the window. Peter got through and took her weight, and Scott yanked himself through the window after them.
Peter had her on the driveway, the blanket off and the cinders on her clothes stamped out, but he wasn’t getting any air into her lungs. Her blood, no oxygen in it, had turned her skin blue. There was enough medical training present to deal with a trauma victim, but no one could bring the dead back to life.
Scott sat on the cold concrete next to her, held her burned hand and watched his sister do CPR, and Peter trying to get her to breathe, and he started to silently cry.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hi, precious.” She would know those blue eyes anywhere. Jennifer held out her arms and Jerry handed her the baby, gurgling and smiling and waving her arms, happy. Colleen hadn’t grown, but her eyes were bright, her small body strong. She grinned and flirted with her Mom, bubbling kisses at her, delighted at the long hair she could tug. Jennifer grinned and offered her necklace instead.
There was fire in the dream now, fire between her and her husband, her child, then they were gone.
Mary Elizabeth. No!
God, I can’t do this. I can’t. Not another child.
“Jennifer!” It was a strong voice that compelled her attention. “You keep fighting, you hear me? Mary Elizabeth is fine. She’s home. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare give up!”
She was not fighting to live. That was the hardest part for Scott to grasp. She’d been on the respirator five days now, slowly growing worse. But he thought he understood. She had collapsed in a burning house holding a baby, her last conscious thoughts the realization Mary Elizabeth was going to die because she had not made it to the door. Jennifer wouldn’t want to live, knowing that. He told her Mary Elizabeth was fine, over and over again, and she heard him, her hand flinched when he spoke to her, but she only got worse. Please Jen, don’t do this. Don’t leave. It was like she didn’t believe him. It began to make him mad.
“Jen, I had Rachel reserve the church this morning, and Mom is sending out the wedding invitations. You’ve got twenty-five days left before your wedding, so I suggest you try fighting this respirator. This give-up attitude is not appreciated.”
If one set of tactics did not work, it was time to try a second. Scott watched her hand flinch, knew she could hear him. She had been hearing him for the last five days, but hadn’t been willing to fight back to consciousness. Her burns had to hurt, her right hand and arm had blistered, but they were all first degree, they would heal with only minor scars. He had told her that, but nothing was getting her to fight.
Her hand twitched and this time slightly turned.
“You have to open your eyes, Jen. You can’t sleep anymore. Open your eyes,” he ordered.
She did. She looked annoyed and she closed them again, but she’d opened her eyes.
Scott laughed around his tears. “Oh, no you don’t. Get back here. Open your eyes.”
They opened again and she blinked at him. It was hard to see a smile around a respirator, but her eyes softened. He gently kissed her forehead. “Mary Elizabeth is fine. You did good, Jen. You did good.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jennifer woke early on Saturday morning, her wedding day, the house quiet and still, though it would change in the next hour as Rachel and Beth arrived. Jennifer listened to the peaceful quiet, her last morning in this house, and smiled. She was going to miss this place. She considered burying her head
under the pillows again and letting the next hour drift by, but knew she didn’t really have that luxury. She flexed her stiff right hand, feeling the tightness in the skin around her fingers that still lingered even after the blisters had healed. The stiffness in her skin, the inhalator she used twice a day, were the only remaining marks of the fire. The doctors told her another month would remove even them. After ten days in the hospital she had been ready to get home. She rose, stretched, slipped on her robe and walked through the house to the kitchen to start coffee. The stress in her system was totally gone, and it made her feel like a new person. Fear had been her companion for three years, and it was gone now. She felt wonderful. Peaceful.
Scott’s parents’ home had been a total loss, but they seemed to be handling it without too much despair. Jennifer hadn’t been back. She didn’t want to see the burnt-out shell, and the wrecking crews had come in ten days later. Margaret in particular had taken the loss calmly. They were people who grasped material things lightly, and when they were taken away, those people were not crushed. The picture albums had actually been at Heather’s that day, and some of their more precious keepsakes from the master bedroom had been recovered. That was all Margaret considered irreplaceable. They were staying with friends in the neighborhood, planning to rebuild in the spring. Scott had offered them his home, and Jennifer had urged them to accept, goodness knew it was spacious enough, but they had declined. Olivia and Jack had been friends for thirty years and their children were grown, Margaret and Larry were more comfortable staying with them, where they could walk to the site and oversee the construction.
Jennifer drank her coffee standing up, looking out over the front lawn, white now from snow that had come down overnight. They had chosen wedding colors to match the winter season. Beth’s and Rachel’s gowns were deep green, Scott’s and Brad’s tuxes were black with deep red accessories; poinsettias would dominate the decorations in the church. Heather, of course, planned to see that the flowers were spectacular. There would be guests, over a hundred had already confirmed, and Heather’s friend Tracy was providing the music. Jennifer knew her dress would look spectacular against such a setting. She had done away with the long train and instead gone for simplicity, choosing a white silk classical gown.
The Marriage Wish Page 19