Wonders never cease. “Thomas’s a good husband.”
Amy raised Graham to her shoulder and gently rubbed his tiny back. “It’s so weird, Mom. I was in love with Thomas when I married him, but you know what?”
I had a pretty good idea what was coming next. “What?”
“I’ve never loved him more than when he made me that promise.”
Chapter Fifteen
It's October 23, a day of mixed emotions. I’d just had a call from Barry and Sheila Snow, the best man and maid of honor at our wedding. They’d called from Tampa to see how I was doing on what would have been my fortieth wedding anniversary, a day I'd been dreading for months.
And I might still have dreaded it, if not for Graham’s letters.
It made me sad not to have any more of his letters. I'd gotten accustomed to reading his thoughts. Over our nearly forty years of marriage, we'd learned to communicate in a kind of shorthand, predicting what the other would say, finishing each other’s sentences.
It wasn't that we took each other for granted, although I guess we did at times, but rather that we’d grown close enough to see the pattern of our life together. He never failed to recognize the signs of an impending, impassioned discussion on changes to school policy, my special interest. And I'd learned to understand that his long hours of pacing his office was his way of working off the frustration of losing a case.
These varied parts of our lives added up, over time, to two people who knew each other intimately at all levels. This intimacy was what allowed us to share the burden of Graham’s illness.
As I looked ahead to today, I decided not to give Graham’s letters to our children. They were between Graham and me, my last intimate connection to my husband.
What I could share, I decided as I spread boiled icing on the chocolate cake, was Graham's wish that I move on. My children wanted me to find a new life, and they'd offered their support by agreeing to be here today to celebrate my anniversary.
Feeling a need for one last look at the letters before my family arrived, I quickly finished icing the cake.
Back in his office, I pulled open the drawer and took them out.
They were letters of love, and of faith in who we were as a couple. What we meant to each other. I fought back the sense of panic rushing through me as I recognized anew that I’d never see my husband again.
But I wasn’t alone. I had my friends. I had our children and our grandchildren to remind me that life goes on, that life was for those willing to live it. I had so much to be thankful for.
And then there was Sam, and the butterflies in my stomach when I thought of him. Sweet, endearing Sam...
I was staring into space when I heard a car in the driveway. Minutes later, Connor's voice boomed in the front hall.
“Hey, Mom! Where are you?” I heard his cane clomp on the wood floor in rhythm with his words.
“I'm in here.” I charged down the hall, holding out my arms. “You're late.”
“And you're lucky I could get a flight on such short notice.”
Knowing how awkward it was for Connor to sit confined in economy, I’d bought him a business-class ticket. “Tell me how everything went.”
“I had a great flight, sat next to a truly wonderful woman. An artist. She paints huge murals and loves sixties music.”
Could my son have found someone special? “You like her?”
“Hold your matchmaking horses. We only spent a few hours together on a boring flight.” He winked at me before he hugged me to his rail-thin frame.
“Are you seeing her again?” I pressed.
“I'm here to celebrate with you,” he countered, kissing my forehead.
“And I can mind my own business, right?”
He grinned. “Where’s the rest of the brood?”
“They're all at Amy's house. Jonathan’s practicing his godfather duties and Megan’s meeting her baby cousin.”
“Sounds good to me,” Connor replied, taking my arm and leading me back to the office.
“Hey, the kitchen’s that way,” I protested, pointing over his shoulder.
“First things first. I want to see what you’re doing with Dad’s office. You told me last week you were making changes.”
I entered the room with its now bare walls and empty coin cabinet. “I didn’t throw anything out, at least not anything of value. I’ve set aside things for the three of you to divide up. I’m turning this into a playroom for my grandchildren.”
“You’ve done a great job.” He kissed my cheek, his curly red hair framing his gaunt features.
It had been years since Connor’s hockey accident, and still he was so thin he worried me. But there was nothing I could do to change that today, or ever.
“It’s great to have you home for the anniversary. Now, let’s get dinner on the table for the starving horde.”
“Mom, I'm so glad we're having this celebration, not only for you, but for Amy and Thomas.”
“I'll miss them.”
“Of course, but you'll enjoy visiting them in Atlanta.”
“I will. Maybe we'll all have Christmas in Atlanta.”
We’d just finished setting the dining room table when I saw Amy’s car pull into the driveway. “They're here.” I opened the front door, anxious to hold my family close.
As I reached to take Graham’s car seat from Thomas, we exchanged glances, and in that fraction of a second we both saw the other differently. I had come to really love and respect my son-in-law. Just in time to have him leave, darn it.
I ushered everyone into the house, then Amy, Jonathan and Connor held their usual hug-in. I gave them a few minutes to admire Graham while I took Megan to the kitchen and set her up with a new box of Play Doh. Megan was unusually quiet. Jonathan hadn’t said why Linda hadn’t come with them, but it wasn’t a good sign. “What color would you like today?” I asked Megan.
She hung her head; he lips formed a pout. “I don’t want to play. I want my mommy.”
My heart lurched at the sight of my granddaughter upset. Kneeling down beside her, I tucked a strand of her red-blond hair behind her ear. “Megan, honey, your mommy couldn’t come. But you and I can have a good time together, right?”
“I don’t want to. I want my mommy. My mommy’s going away, and she’s not coming back.” Big shiny tears gathered on her lashes.
Was Linda leaving Jonathan? No, it couldn’t have happened this quickly. Jonathan would've said something.
Did Megan think that her mother’s leaving had anything to do with her? I held my granddaughter in my arms, and she rubbed the rings on my left hand. “My mommy cries and she says it’s cause she’s unhappy.”
How did this child get caught up in all this? Why weren’t Jonathan and Linda more careful about what they said in front of her? She was too young to understand what her parents were going through, and powerless to stop it. “Megan, I know you miss your mommy, but what about baby Graham? Wouldn’t you like to play with him?”
“I tried to. All he does is sleep.” She began to cry in earnest.
Jonathan appeared at the door, frowning with concern. “Megan, what is it?”
“I want Mommy,” she sobbed. She climbed into her father’s arms and buried her face in his neck. He glanced at me with a look of pure misery as he stroked his daughter’s hair.
“We need to talk,” I whispered.
He nodded and started toward the living room with Megan in his arms, huddled against her father’s chest. I could hear Connor and Thomas laughing together and fervently wished that Jonathan would be able to laugh again someday soon.
When he returned, he was alone. “Amy and Megan get along great. Amy's taking her up to see the dolls in the attic.”
“So, what’s going on with you and Linda? And what about her pregnancy?” I asked, fearing that what I'd just witnessed with my granddaughter meant Jonathan was about to get a divorce.
But his expression held hope. “We've decided to go back into counseling
to see if we can work things out. Linda and I talked about the baby. She’s not as depressed as she was, but I'm not sure what that means. Anyway, at least she’s willing to talk.”
“Jonathan, where did Megan get she idea that her mother’s leaving?”
His face paled. “I don’t know. We haven’t said a word to her, not a word.”
“Are you sure?” I saw the pain on Jonathan’s face, and wished I could take back my words.
“Mom, I’m doing the best I can. When I get back, I'll talk to Linda and see how we can help Megan.” He sat in the chair near the window, his eyes downcast. “Mom, what am I going to do? I don’t want to lose Linda and my family. But I don’t have any idea how to stop it.”
“Do you still love her?”
His head came up, and a look of determination shone in his eyes. “I’ve loved her since the day I met her in American history class during our junior year.”
“Have you told her that?”
He shoved his hands through his close-cropped hair, his jaw clenched. “No, Mom. I guess I haven't. Not for quite a while. I’ve been working so hard. She’s been busy. There never seem to be enough hours in the day. Our next-door neighbors moved this spring...they were our best friends. Linda misses Elaine.”
Listening to Jonathan took me back to the days when finding time for each other was almost impossible, and outside influences seemed to absorb all our energies.
Sam’s words about giving love a second chance chimed in my head. “Jonathan, someone special in my life told me that love should be given a second chance. Your father I had that, and I’ll be forever grateful. What I want you to understand is that love is worth every sacrifice. You love Linda. She’s carrying your child. Go to her, and tell her how much she means to you.”
His anxious gaze met mine; tears swam in his eyes. “Do you believe it’s that simple?”
“I honestly don’t know, but neither will you unless you try. Get on the phone and call Linda. Tell her you love her and you want her on the first available flight. Tell her we’re all waiting for her, that you'll pick her up at the airport. Tell her Megan misses her. That we all do.”
Relief and surprise chased each other across Jonathan’s face. “You think it’ll work?”
Even at this stage of my life, I figured I didn’t know much about anything, but I could still wing it. “Any woman worth her salt won’t be able to refuse your invitation. And I’ll take care of Megan while you and Linda spend time alone together. Now, hurry!”
Without a backward glance, Jonathan strode out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into his old bedroom. I watched him go, my pulse thudding. I was still standing at the bottom of the staircase when Amy appeared at the top.
“What’s Jonathan doing in his room?” Amy asked as she came down the stairs.
“Urgent telephone call that can only be made in his room.”
“Having to do with Linda, I assume.”
“You assume correctly.”
“And you had a hand in it, I'm sure,” Amy said peering down at me.
“I did.”
“Do you suppose the day will ever come when you won’t have to rescue one or another of us?”
I hoped not, but I didn’t say so. I didn’t want the label of clingy mother, or worse, meddling mother-in-law. “Simply stating the facts.”
“The way Dad would have?”
I nodded my head as I took in my beautiful daughter, standing there so straight. There'd been a change in her. She seemed much happier, more content.
“Want some help getting dinner on the table, Mom?” Amy asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
We linked arms and walked to the kitchen “Where’s Megan?”
“In my old room. I brought the dollhouse and furniture down from the attic and she’s waist-deep in dolls and doll clothes. She’s the sweetest little girl.”
“Thanks for being so good to her. She’s going through a rough patch right now with her parents talking divorce.”
“Oh, Mom, I hope that doesn’t happen. I can’t imagine how Jonathan will cope if he’s separated from Megan. He loves her so much. He’s as involved with her as Linda is, although Linda will probably get custody if there’s a divorce.”
“I had no idea they were having problems until he told me the last time he was here.”
“I didn’t, either,” Amy said as we entered the kitchen.
“Didn’t what?” Connor asked, getting a beer out of the fridge.
“Jonathan and Linda.”
“Oh, yeah. Where is he, by the way?”
“Upstairs calling Linda to see if she’d change her mind and join us,” I answered.
Connor glanced from Amy to me. “He might need a little moral support,” he said half to himself as he put his beer on the counter and walked toward the stairs.
Amy and I worked in companionable silence, making gravy and preparing a salad. Then we got the roast and baked potatoes out of the oven. I took a moment to check on Thomas and Graham in the living room. Thomas was rocking Graham.
As we stood at the counter putting the finishing touches on the meal, Amy turned to me. “Mom, are you really okay with our plans to move to Atlanta?”
“I’ll miss you and Graham and Thomas so much, and there’ll be days I'll wish you could move back home. But I want whatever makes you happy, and your life with Thomas makes you very happy. I see that.”
“And you? What makes you happy?”
“Having my family here today. Having Kate as my friend. Discovering that I want to help Phillip Bannister if I can. Feeling that I’ve come to terms with your father being gone. And of course, keeping little Graham while you go house hunting in Atlanta.”
“And Sam?”
I could feel my cheeks flush. “He’s become a special part of my life. Who knows what'll happen next?”
“But you‘re willing to take a chance on him?”
“I am.”
“I haven’t been very fair to you where Sam's concerned, and it was Thomas who showed me that I had to let you make your own choices, the same way you were letting me make mine.” Amy stopped carving the roast and wrapped her arms around my neck, the way she once did with her father. “Mom, I’m pleased you and Sam are enjoying each other’s company.”
“I’ve been wondering how you felt about him,” I said, sighing in relief.
“I’m okay with it, but it’s also good to hear you say you’re okay with our move. It means so much to me. I want you to enjoy yourself when I’m gone.”
My darling daughter, you’ve got your wish. No matter what happens from here on, I will be happy for you, for Thomas, Baby Graham, Connor, Jonathan, Linda and Megan and my as-yet-unborn grandchild.
I hugged her. “I will,” I whispered, and meant it.
* * *
A short while later, after Megan had been put to bed and Jonathan announced that he had convinced Linda to come, we were all seated around the table sipping coffee and finishing off the chocolate cake when Jonathan came in with a small white box.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Call it an anniversary gift,” Jonathan said, handing it to me.
I opened it. Nestled in purple satin was a miniature horse-drawn carriage. “Where did you get this?”
“In an antique store in Seattle. I thought it was the perfect gift for this occasion.”
I smiled to myself. “Graham would've gotten a good chuckle out of this.”
“So what’s with the gift?” Connor asked.
“Yeah, don’t keep us in suspense,” Amy chimed in from the other side of the table where she was nursing baby Graham.
“It’s about what happened to Mom and Dad on their wedding day,” Jonathan said, his eyes locking on mine, a smile lighting his face.
“How come you know about it and not us?” Amy inquired, exchanging glances with Connor.
“Because when Jonathan was little, he and I used to go through the photo albums for something to do.
We had no extra money for movies, and we didn’t have cable TV.” I shrugged as Jonathan and I continued to smile at each other. “And he was tired of the books I had for him. So, I told him stories about my life growing up, including the story of my wedding day.”
“They were all great, but the wedding one was my favorite,” Jonathan added, giving me a thumbs-up.
Connor and Thomas pulled their chairs closer to the table. Amy put Graham in the bassinet we’d recovered from the attic and brought the coffee pot to the table. “So, let’s hear it.”
I put the horse and carriage ornament on the table in front of me. “It was October twenty third, 1978...”
* * *
Teetering on my white satin pumps, I clutch the train of my wedding dress against my thigh and hold my bridal bouquet of lily of the valley and white roses in the other hand, the one with my shiny gold wedding band.
Graham’s hand rests on the small of my back as he guides me to the waiting carriage and twin bay horses hired by my uncle Max.
I feel like Cinderella as I move down the stone walkway from the church to the carriage. I smile up at Graham, relieved to have my new husband alone for a few moments.
“Allow me, Mrs. Ellison,” he says, holding open the half door of the carriage.
“Thank you, Mr. Ellison,” I say, my heart as light as a feather. I manage to seat myself on the soft gray velvet and pull my wedding gown over to let Graham sit down.
"Smile at the cameras,” he whispers in my ear.
Surrounded by the sweet scent of Lilly of the Valley and roses, I lean back and let happiness roll over me. Every little detail of the wedding had gone perfectly. Now we had only the reception at the Women’s Institute hall to worry about, and then we'd be off on our honeymoon.
“Sorry for dropping the ring,” Graham says, looking truly contrite.
“It’s okay. We were both nervous.”
Remembering You Page 15