Once and Future Wife

by David Burnett

  Jennie had expected an explosion. She had feared he would scream, call her names—drunk, liar, and tramp were the nicest that came to mind. She’d imagined he would look at her with disgust, order her to leave his house, never to return. She deserved for him to do that. But the expression on Thomas’s face conveyed none of those things.

  “What can I do, Jennie? How can I help you?”

  He wanted to help her?

  Jennie shook her head. “You can’t. No one can. I’ll take the medicine. I went back to AA last night. Those are just Band-Aids, though. No one can help.”

  As Jennie stood, ready to leave, Louisa dropped her bear and crawled toward Jennie, her hands beating against the wood floor like a repeating rifle. She sat up at Jennie’s feet and raised her arms. “Ma,” she said, wiggling her chubby little fingers in the air.

  Jennie looked at Thomas in confusion. “Did she say…?”

  Thomas hurried across the room and picked Louisa up. She squirmed and struggled, stretching toward Jennie. Thomas turned her away and reached for a small ball lying on the edge of the desk, handing it to her as a distraction.

  He faced Jennie now. “I told you, Tasha has been teaching her names. She wants her to call you—”

  “No, don’t say it.” Jennie held up her hand to stop him. “I…I can’t do it.”

  He reached out for her. “Please don’t go, Jennie. Don’t walk away…”

  Jennie buried her face in her hands. She knew what he wanted to say.

  Again. Don’t walk away again, not like you did the last time.

  She let him guide her back to her chair. He sat next to her and gently rocked Louisa from side to side, until she put her thumb in her mouth and drifted off to sleep.

  “Why did you stop your medication?” Thomas spoke the words to Jennie, but his eyes remained on Louisa as he continued to rock.

  Jennie stared into the fire. “I wanted to prove to myself I didn’t need it, that I was cured, that I was strong…Guess I answered those questions.”

  They sat in silence for several moments as Jennie thought about all she had said, all Thomas had heard…

  Suddenly, her head snapped up, eyes wide. “Wait. You knew all of this. You weren’t surprised at anything I said. You knew I was coming today too. The gate was open. Mom’s stew is in the slow cooker…Tasha?”

  He nodded. “She called, told me what happened…how you behaved at the Anchor. She knew you would tell me, and she said she didn’t want me to have all…all of that, dumped on me, as she put it, when I was excited to see you, when I was planning to propose to you. She said it would be cruel. She told me it was the least she could do…”

  “She wanted to come with me, but I had to tell you myself, and I couldn’t wait…Tasha told you what happened to her too?”

  Thomas nodded, and his chin quivered as he pressed his lips together firmly. His right hand clenched, briefly, into a fist, much like Jennie’s often did. His face, though—all but his eyes, that is—remained stoic, holding back the anger he must be feeling about what happened to Tasha. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.

  Seeing him that way tore at Jennie’s heart. She began to cry again. “Tasha looked awful, Thomas. She was hurting so badly. That was my fault too.”

  His eyes narrowed as he spoke. “No, Jennie. What happened was the fault of the load trash who hang at that bar.”

  “But I—”

  “Those…those…men shouldn’t have been planning to party with you, much less attack a little girl who was cornered in the wrong place.” Thomas’s voice grew louder, and Louisa stirred, but didn’t awaken. “They made their own decisions,” he added in a quiet voice. “And they’ll get what is coming to them…to the full extent of the law.”

  He was such a noble, caring man. So different from the men that frequented the Rusty Anchor. “I love you, Thomas.”

  He started to respond, but she held up a hand for him to wait. “I know, what I’ve done would tell you that’s not true, but that’s the damnable thing about all of this. I loved you as I walked into the Anchor on Friday. It just makes no sense.”

  Thomas shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “So you understand why I have to leave?” She reached out and ran her hand down the side of his face. “I’ll love you until the day I die, Thomas Lindsay, and…and I promise to never see you or contact you or any of the girls ever again.” She reached over and gently stroked Louisa’s back. “I’m going to miss getting to know you.”

  Jennie stood to leave. As she reached the door, she heard Thomas stand and put Louisa in her crib.

  “You don’t want to be Louisa’s mother?”

  She wheeled about. “That’s not fair!” Jennie closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, struggling to control her temper. “Of course I do, but you can’t ask me to do that.”

  “You’re right.” He nodded slowly. “I don’t want to ask you to do that.”

  Of course not. You wouldn’t want someone like me to be her mother.

  He put his arms around her waist.

  “I want to ask you to be my wife.” He gave a small smile. “Being Louisa’s mother comes with that job.”

  “Thomas, I can’t…”

  “You told me it began with small things.”

  She nodded.

  “And you didn’t realize what was happening,” Thomas prompted.

  “That’s right. But how could I not have known?”

  “Sixteen years ago, I didn’t understand what was happening,” he said. “I didn’t know that what I was seeing were symptoms of a disease. I know what to watch for now. I can tell you if something is going wrong.”

  “But you didn’t see anything these last months…”

  “I didn’t see you often enough over these last months. I’d need to have more regular contact with you.”

  Jennie looked into his eyes. “How regular?”

  “Every morning. And every night. I don’t want you to leave Charleston until we’re husband and wife.”

  “Thomas, I—that’s not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” Her voice rose and she caught herself, glancing toward the baby to see if she had awakened. “The things I’ve done? I told you…I can’t promise not to do them again.”

  “You told me you love me. Was that the truth?”

  “You know it was. You know it is.”

  “You told me you wanted to marry me. Was that the truth?”

  “Thomas, if I were going to lie to you, I wouldn’t have told you about…about the Anchor.”

  “So, you do want to marry me?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course, but I can’t. I just—”

  “I heard everything you told me, Jennie, but I see no reason why not. If I don’t—”

  “You put up with me once. I can’t ask you to do it again, now. I can’t ask you to do it in the future. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “You’re deciding what is fair to me? I’ve managed on my own quite well for over sixteen years…What’s not fair to me is having me fall love with you again and then leaving me.” He took a step away. “Is that how you always handle things when people get close to you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Jennie remembered Dr. Wilson had once asked the same question.

  “You walked out on me, and our children when they were babies. You let me fall in love with you again, and you’re walking away, again. You let my daughters grow to love you, and you just promised you’d never see them again.” He threw his arms in the air. “Maybe you simply can’t love anyone except yourself, Jennie. You do exactly as you choose and when others get too close, you turn and run.”

  “Thomas…”

  “If that’s true, then go.” He pointed toward the door. “Go back to the Rusty Anchor. Maybe that’s who you really are.”

  Jennie stared at Thomas for several moments. His eyes, small and black, met hers without blinking.

  She tur
ned and trudged down the steps, stopping as she reached the front door, her hand on the knob. Leaving Thomas was one thing, being ordered to go…She recalled her old fear that if she had shown up at Thomas’s door all those years ago, he would have ordered her away and slammed the door behind her. In her imagination, his face had appeared exactly as it had just now. Except now, the anger on his face had been mixed with pain and sadness.

  If she walked through the doorway, she could never, ever return.

  There would be no third chances.

  Jennie didn’t want to go. She sank into a chair beside the window, staring out at the stream of water running down the street, and she began to cry, deep body-shaking sobs.

  She cried for all of the mistakes she had made in her life…from that day so many years before, when she had walked out on her family—wrecking her marriage and deserting her children—to just three days earlier, when she had played the tramp at the Rusty Anchor.

  Thomas despised her, he must, and she would never, ever be his wife again, never see her children again, never be Louisa’s mother.

  All she had worked for, the life she had built over the last sixteen years, gone. Her job, gone. Her self-respect, gone.

  A slut and a sot. That’s what Tasha had called her. Go back to the Rusty Anchor. Maybe that’s who you really are. So Thomas had said.

  Jennie cried because she knew she was weak and she feared they both were right.

  Although there were many times in the past, like now, when she had said she was sorry for things she had done, when she had cried and begged God for another chance, never before had she viewed her life as one continuous, unending mistake. Perhaps there was no reason to go on living it…

  ***

  It seemed to Jennie that she had been crying for an hour or more, and that if anyone had been passing on the street they surely would have heard her sobbing, pleading for the answers. Finally, she gasped for air and sat back, exhausted, numb.

  Repentance is good for the soul. She had heard that somewhere.

  She felt at peace. She felt clean.

  The house was silent. Jennie stood and reached out for the doorknob, resigned to a fate she, herself, had created. Then she paused. An idea struck her then, as if from above.

  She couldn’t change the past, could not turn back the clock and have a re-do.

  But she could control her future.

  She wanted to run to him, but instead, Jennie turned and crept silently up the stairs. She peeked into Thomas’s office and found him, sitting behind his desk, his back to the door, with his head bowed down and resting on his clasped hands. Louisa still lay in her cradle.

  “That’s not who I am,” she said. “The woman at the Anchor, she’s not me…I don’t want her to be me.”

  As she spoke, Thomas wiped his face with a handkerchief, slowly turned in his chair, and stood to face her.

  Jennie wanted to cry again, when she saw his red eyes.

  “Will you help me, Thomas? I won’t be easy to live with, not for a while, but I will try.”

  Their eyes locked and they stood in silence for a long moment.

  “I love you, Thomas, and I want to marry you…if you will still have me.”

  He bent and slid the top drawer of his desk open. Reaching inside, he extracted a small flat, box. Then he crossed the room, meeting Jennie halfway.

  “I had planned to offer this to you tomorrow night.” He handed it to her.

  Her hands trembled as she opened the box. Inside, shining as if it were new, lay the diamond ring she had so casually tossed on the floor so many years before. She took it out and held it up.

  “You kept it?” she whispered.

  “I’d thought one of the girls might want it someday, but I’d rather it be yours again.” He dropped to the floor, balanced on one knee, and took her hand in his, gazing up into her moist eyes. “Jennifer Bateman, will you marry me?”

  “Oh, Thomas, I—” Jennie’s voice caught as she tried to tell him that yes, she had been his wife once and she would happily marry him all over again, but all she could manage was to nod as tears spilled down her face.

  His face broke into a smile. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

  Now Jennie was both laughing and crying as she nodded harder.

  Thomas reached up and took the ring, then slipped it on her finger, missing twice because her hands were shaking so much. As he stood and wrapped his arms around her, she finally found her voice.

  “Once and forever, Thomas. I’ll never leave you again, not ever.”

  Epilogue

  “A baby for every grain,” Amy called as they left the church to walk the two blocks to the restaurant where Thomas and Jennie were hosting dinner. Jennie closed her eyes, tensed her shoulders, and squeezed Thomas’s hand as rice rained down on them.

  “Louisa wants a baby sister,” Tasha and Alexis shouted in unison.

  “And a brother,” Christa exclaimed as she tossed a final handful.

  “We’ll have an entire army of Lindsays if what Amy says is true.” Jennie laughed and brushed her hand across her dress, sending a shower onto the walk. Thomas laughed and hugged her.

  The last three days had been a blur. While Thomas had said he did not want her to leave Charleston until they were husband and wife, Jennie had thought he had meant as soon as possible. He had meant this week.

  Somehow, the girls had arrived home on Wednesday, rather than Thursday as planned. And somehow, Jennie didn’t understand exactly how, Alexis and Tasha and had brought a suitcase of her clothes. All four girls had taken her shopping for a dress, winter white, they had insisted.

  Her family and Thomas’s had driven in this morning.

  Jennie prayed it was not a dream that today, a dazzling Thursday morning, Christmas Eve-Eve, as Amy called it, they had stood in the chancel at Saint Phillip’s Church.

  The organist had played “Ode to Joy,” and Jennie had walked down the aisle alone, giving herself away, and their families had clustered around them. The priest had led them in their vows, and they all had cheered as Thomas kissed her—husband and wife once more. Even Louisa had seemed to know something special had taken place, and she squealed louder than anyone else.

  Now, dinner over, they were in Thomas’s car, leaving the parking garage. He stopped to pay the attendant.

  “Ow,” Thomas extracted his hand from Jennie’s and held it up. “Mrs. Lindsay, my hand will be bruised. Look at it, red and purple. That death grip of yours is dangerous.”

  Jennie reached for his hand and pretended to study it carefully, holding it close to her face and turning it over so she could inspect it from every angle. “Not seeing the purple. A little pink, perhaps.”

  “You don’t want to maim me on our wedding day, do you?”

  Jennie laughed “I’ll be careful, Dr. Lindsay, but I told you, I’m never letting go.” She slipped her hands back through his, holding it gently.

  “I still don’t understand how everyone managed to drop everything the week of Christmas and get to Charleston,” Jennie said. “How did the girls leave school early? Even Kara made it and I know she had a week of baking planned. I’ve asked everyone, but no one has given me a straight answer.”

  “Thank you. Merry Christmas.” The attendant returned Thomas’s card and raised the bar, allowing the car to pull out.

  “I have a confession to make.”

  “Oh? You have something to confess now? After the wedding? Should I be worried?”

  “Our wedding was not completely spur of the moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After Tasha called me, I knew you would try to back out of getting married.”

  “But…”

  He held up his free hand to stop her.

  “A point of honor, if nothing else.”

  As the traffic light turned red, he turned to face her.

  “I was afraid that if you left, you’d never come back. I didn’t want to lose you again…So I talked with Alexis. I ca
lled Kara. Even your mother thought the wedding was a good idea.”

  He turned onto Church Street.

  “You should have heard Amy scream when I told her what I was planning. “Yes, yes, yes,” Thomas shouted, mimicking her.

  “She does get excited so easily,” Jennie said.

  “Tasha and your mother cried. Christa cheered. Kara and Richard both told me it was about time. Then, on Monday, when you left my office and walked down the stairs, I thought I had lost you forever, that you were going back to that bar.”

  “I couldn’t leave.” Jennie wiped her eyes. “You’ve always been so sweet to me, and I’ve treated you so badly. Why do you put up with me?”

  “I’m a saint.”

  Jennie laughed as she wrapped her arms around his and squeezed. “You must be.”

  Thomas pulled into the empty driveway.

  “Where are the girls?” Jennie looked around. “I can’t believe we beat them home.”

  Thomas shrugged. “Both of our families are staying at the hotel. They probably decided to visit for a while. I thought I heard some talk about a carriage ride.”

  Thomas unlocked the door, and Jennie spied Cecelia Cross walking along the street in their direction. The wedding had been for family only, except for Kara, and Jennie was not sure how many of the neighbors even knew about it.

  Cecelia’s eyes seemed to focus on the bouquet in her left hand. As Jennie waved, Thomas scooped her off her feet, kissed her, and stepped across the threshold. Jennie chuckled at the expression on Cecelia’s face.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Lindsay.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, longer this time.

  “Oh,” Jennie sighed. “That’s much better.”

  He kissed her again.

  “Better still…How long do you think before the girls will be home?”

  Thomas glanced out the window. “No idea. However…while we are waiting…” Thomas kissed her a third time, “perhaps we could move your clothes into the large bedroom on the second floor.”

  “Let’s do it!” Jennie smiled and kissed him this time. “As long as we can continue this…while we unpack…”

  As they reached the stairs and Thomas began to pick her up again, Jennie spied an envelope lying on the second step. It was addressed to them both in Christa’s handwriting. She handed it to Thomas and looked over his shoulder as he read aloud.