Love Walks In

by Samantha Chase

  “Dad,” Hugh finally said, “aren’t you going to say anything? Doesn’t what I said mean anything to you?”

  Placing his spoon down, Ian picked up his napkin and wiped his face before looking at Hugh. “Do you remember how your mother normally was around dinnertime?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was normally tired, a little scattered, and mostly she was ready for a break—especially after Darcy was born.”

  Hugh thought back and could see Lillian exactly as Ian was describing. Her long hair was normally pulled back in a ponytail, and by dinnertime half of it had broken free from its clip. She always made sure to keep the conversation going over dinner and asked everyone about their day, but she was tired—she looked tired.

  Finally, Hugh nodded. “I remember.”

  “That day,” Ian began, his own voice catching, “she called me at work. She told me about Darcy and the ear infection and how she needed to pick up the prescription. I offered to go for her because of the weather. After all, I could have easily done it on my way home. Do you know what she said to me?”

  Hugh shook his head.

  “She said, ‘Ian, if I don’t get out of this house for a little while, I’ll go crazy.’ You see, Darcy had been crying all day and the trip to the doctor had been exhausting because there was some sort of illness going around so she had to sit in the waiting room longer while listening to your sister—and about a dozen other kids—cry.” He let out a small chuckle. “One of the many things I loved about your mother was her honesty. She wasn’t a martyr and she didn’t pretend to be the perfect mom. You kids made her crazy a lot of the time, but she loved you all. And that day, Darcy was making her crazy. She wanted to get out and get a little air and just be alone in the car for a little while.”

  Hugh didn’t know what to say, so he waited to see if his father was done.

  “Even if you hadn’t been grounded, Hugh, she wasn’t going to ask you to go on that errand. And if she had, then you and I might not be here talking right now.”

  It was one thing to have tears in his own eyes; it was quite another for Hugh to see them in the strongest man he knew. “Dad…she had so much to live for. It would have been better—for everyone—if it had been me and not—”

  Ian reached over and grabbed Hugh’s arm. “Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that! God almighty, Son. Is that what you think? Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?”

  “How could I not?” Hugh cried. “At any other time, she would have asked me to go! I ran errands for her all the time!”

  Shaking his head, Ian moved to take Hugh’s hand in his. “You listen to me. I know how many times you ran errands, but that day, you weren’t going to no matter what you think. I know! You don’t think I struggle with the same thing? If I had insisted I be the one to go to the pharmacy on my way home, she’d still be here!” And then he openly broke down in tears. “Every day I curse myself for not doing it. For not putting my foot down,” he sobbed.

  Hugh’s tears flowed openly now. “Dad…”

  Ian wiped his eyes. “The thing is, Son…we’ll never know. Sometimes things happen and we don’t know why and don’t understand how God lets it happen. But I know your mother would not want either of us living like this. We’re not so different, you and I. I stayed close to home not only because I had you kids to take care of, but because I became afraid of living. If something like that could happen to your mother, it could happen to any of us.”

  Hugh nodded. “I thought I could control everything. I thought if I stuck to my structured routine and played everything safe I’d be okay.” He wiped his eyes. “But I’m not. I missed out on a lot of things by being so cautious and in the end, I lost Aubrey because of it.”

  They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in his own thoughts as they finished their dinner. While they were cleaning up, Ian finally spoke. “I think you’re wrong.”

  “Excuse me?” Hugh asked in confusion.

  “I don’t think you lost Aubrey because you were cautious, Hugh. I think there’s more to this than she let on.”

  “She didn’t want kids.”

  Ian let out a sigh. “And that’s a deal breaker for you?”

  “It kind of is. I always knew I wanted kids, a family. She apologized for never mentioning it before but…I don’t know. It seemed weird the way she told me.” Hugh relayed all of the details of their last morning together. “It all seemed to come out of nowhere. It was almost like she wasn’t herself.”

  “Have you talked to her since then?”

  Hugh shook his head. “I can’t. Just hearing her voice… It’s too much. I hate feeling like this. I hate knowing I’m that weak and yet…there it is.”

  “You’re not weak, Hugh. You’re hurting. And it’s okay.”

  Maybe.

  Hugh just wished it didn’t hurt so damn much.

  * * *

  The knock at the door brought Aubrey out of her thoughts.

  Every day she got up. She ate. She breathed. But more than anything, she missed Hugh. So many times she simply wished he would call or that she was brave enough to call him, but in the end, neither happened.

  She knew she wasn’t expecting anyone, but her heart skipped a beat in hopes that he was on the other side of the door, coming to make her see some sense.

  Instead she found her mother.

  Clearly the universe hated her.

  “Mom?” she said, cursing the fact that her hair was a mess and she was wearing yoga pants and yesterday’s T-shirt. “What brings you here?”

  Angela Burke walked in, looking impeccable as usual. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks, so I figured I better come and check.” She took a good look at Aubrey and frowned. “And it’s a good thing I did. Good grief, Aubrey. What is going on?”

  Where did she begin? “You could have called,” Aubrey murmured as she shut the door and walked toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, but you can go take a shower and get dressed. We’re going to lunch.”

  “Mom,” she sighed, “I’m really not in the mood for lunch. Maybe next week…”

  “Aubrey, I drove all the way over here, and from the look of things, you aren’t eating much. Please go take a shower. We’ll go to the club for lunch. You know they do some amazing salads.”

  At that point, Aubrey’s stomach growled, and she wanted to look down and call it a traitor. That’s when she knew she was losing her mind and really did need to get out of the house. “Fine,” she said. “Give me thirty minutes.”

  Twenty-eight minutes later, they were in Angela’s car and on their way. They made small talk on the drive—the weather, current events. It was exactly how things usually went when they were together, and Aubrey found some comfort in it. It wasn’t until they were seated in the restaurant and had ordered that Angela took her daughter by surprise.

  “Okay, who died?”

  Aubrey’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

  “I asked who died. Seriously, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks, your house was a mess, and you’re moping. You really need to stop doing that. You’ll get wrinkles.” She reached out to touch Aubrey’s forehead, but Aubrey swatted her hand away.

  “Mom, stop,” she hissed.

  “Well then, tell me what’s going on,” Angela said, smiling at the waiter who brought her sweet tea over.

  For two weeks Aubrey had kept to herself, not wanting to burden anyone with her problems. But for some reason, now seemed the perfect time to unload a bit. “Do you regret having me?” she asked before she lost her nerve.

  Her mother’s eyes went wide with shock. “For goodness’ sake, Aubrey! Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Feeling more than a little invigorated—and rebellious—Aubrey leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “For st
arters, you’ve never said you love me.” She stared at her mother, almost daring her to deny it. “I know you and Dad didn’t have a great marriage, but it seems like I made it worse.”

  “Aubrey,” Angela began, her voice low, “is this really the time for this discussion?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Aubrey countered. “You wanted us to go out.”

  Angela frowned and took a sip of her tea. “I don’t regret having you. I don’t know why you would say that.”

  “I believe I already answered, Mom. If you don’t regret it, why were you always so distant? Why wasn’t anything I did ever enough?”

  There was a long silence. “I knew from the beginning I never should have married your father. We had dated for a long time but we weren’t in love. And then I got pregnant with you. We both thought it was a good thing and that, in time, we’d fall in love. But we never did. We had differing parenting styles. He was always working and always criticizing me.”

  “Why didn’t you leave?”

  Angela shrugged. “I was young. I didn’t want to be divorced. I didn’t have a lot of skills and I just figured things would eventually get better.”

  “And then I got sick.”

  “Yes. I wanted to yell and scream and choke the doctor when he gave us the news.”

  Aubrey straightened. “No,” she said fiercely, all her anger suddenly more than she could bear. “You asked if I could still dance in that damn recital!”

  “No,” Angela said sadly. “Doctor Mason had given your father and me the news before we all came into your room. He sat your father and me down and told us what they found. I can’t remember ever crying more. When he saw how distraught I was, he gave your father and me some privacy and I just cried harder. Then your father told me to pull myself together, that seeing me upset wasn’t going to help you. I needed to be strong. To prove this wasn’t going to stop you from living.”

  “But—”

  “So we agreed we were going to look at your diagnosis as if it wasn’t a bad thing—like there wasn’t a chance you weren’t going to recover.” She shook her head. “He drilled it into me daily. ‘Don’t let her see you be weak, Angela.’ ‘Don’t get all emotional, Angela.’ Ugh, I wanted to smack him.”

  The explanation did little to ease Aubrey’s ire. “And what about afterward? He wasn’t around all the time, you know. What would have been the harm in being kind to me? Do you have any idea how much I needed someone to show a little compassion?” she cried.

  Angela’s face softened to a sad smile. “You have no idea,” she said quietly. “You have no idea what it’s like to look at your child and wonder if she’s going to live or die. I would lie awake at night praying for you to get better, and there were times when you got worse. I was angry at God and I was angry at you. After a while, I detached myself because it was the only way I could handle it. If you hadn’t survived…”

  “So you were preparing yourself for my death?” Aubrey asked incredulously. “That’s horrible!”

  “I’m not proud of it, Aubrey! I can’t begin to describe what it felt like to sit there and watch you suffer in pain, knowing there was nothing I could do! I saw how your father wasn’t engaging either and I realized it was a coping mechanism. And I had to do the same.”

  “But what about when I went into remission? Why—” Her voice cracked. “Why couldn’t you let yourself show me that you were happy? Or relieved or…anything?”

  Angela sighed. “Because that fear never goes away.”

  “What fear?”

  “The fear that it will come back,” she said, her voice barely audible. Her eyes held Aubrey’s. “You sat there and heard everything the doctors said along with me. There’s always a chance and…and I had a hard time dealing with it. I still do. What if…what if something…”

  “Don’t you think I struggle with that, too? Every time I go to the doctor, I have that fear! And no one will sit there and hold my hand! No one is there to let me cry on their shoulder! Do you know how that feels? It’s my life—my body—we’re talking about!”

  “I wish… I wish I could be different. I wish I had handled things differently. I don’t know how, Aubrey! I’m not a perfect person and I know I failed you as a mother but I can’t be someone I’m not!”

  “Well, I can’t either! This is who I am. I’m Aubrey and I had cancer and I may get it again! I’ll never be a dancer. I’ll never have children, and I—”

  “Wait,” Angela interrupted, “why did you say you’d never have children? Where did that come from?”

  Well, crap. She was momentarily saved from responding when the waiter returned with their lunches. “Thank you.” She smiled and immediately dug in to her French fries.

  “Honestly, Aubrey,” Angela admonished, “they have healthier choices than that.”

  Her inner child won out and Aubrey picked up another fry, dipped it in ketchup, and happily ate it. “I wanted this,” she said and reached for her burger. “And I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised. You heard me order it.”

  “I didn’t think it would be so…big. And messy.”

  “Here, try one.” She held out a French fry to her mother. “Have you ever just let go and done something just because you wanted to?”

  Indecision warred on Angela’s face. “That’s ridiculous. Of course I have. Now put that down, people are staring.”

  Aubrey looked around. “No, they’re not. Come on. Eat this one fry.”

  “Tell me why you mentioned children.”

  “You know what? Never mind. Don’t eat the fry. More for me.”

  Angela took the fry out of her daughter’s hand. “Oh no. You started this, you need to finish it.” She delicately ate the lone French fry and smiled. “Well…that was really quite good.”

  “Most of the things you refused to let me eat are,” Aubrey said, taking a huge bite of her burger.

  Disappointment marked Angela’s features as she looked down at her salad and then at Aubrey’s plate. “Is the burger good?”

  “Yes, it is,” she said with a knowing smile. “I have a friend who makes the best gourmet burgers and even though this doesn’t come close, it’s still pretty good.”

  “I know most of your friends and none of them cook. Who’s the new friend?”

  “No one you know.” She nodded toward the salad. “Eat up.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. You’re acting like a child. You won’t tell me who your friend is. You won’t tell me why you’re living like a bag lady. You won’t tell me why you think you can’t have children. I mean…”

  “I don’t think, I know. Big difference.”

  “What did Dr. Gabbert say? Have you seen a fertility specialist?”

  Aubrey put the burger down, her appetite quickly fading away. “I’ve known for a long time that the chemo meds they used on me meant my chances of having children were slim to none. The doctors have said it almost since the beginning. And then, not that long ago, I went in for my annual. Long story short, my ovaries aren’t in great condition. She sent me to a radiologist for an ultrasound, and those results, combined with my sporadic cycle, confirmed that it’s pretty much hopeless.”

  And in a very uncharacteristic move, Angela Burke slid her chair close and embraced her daughter. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I think you would have been an amazing mother.”

  Tears welled in Aubrey’s eyes. “I once thought so, too.”

  They sat like that for a few minutes before Angela pulled away. “You know, getting pregnant and giving birth does not make you a mother.” She laughed awkwardly. “I should know.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. Really. I’m…I’m dealing.”

  “I don’t think you are,” she said thoughtfully. “There are so many children in this world who don’t have parents. You could adopt. Or you could find a surrogate. I mean, there are so many
options out there. I don’t want you to lose hope.”

  For a minute, Aubrey felt as if she couldn’t breathe. “I…I never really gave those options a thought. Dr. Gabbert’s mentioned them but…” She shrugged. “In my mind, if I couldn’t get pregnant then I didn’t get to have children.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. Always remember, where there’s a will there’s a way. You’re a very loving and giving woman, Aubrey. I wish I was more like you.”

  “Mom…”

  “It’s true! You’re an amazing person. So beautiful. So talented. I hate to think of you selling yourself short. You can have and be anything you want to be.” She looked at her daughter and studied her seriously for a moment. “What is it you want, Aubrey? What do you want to be?”

  I want to be Hugh’s wife.

  She didn’t say that, though. Instead she said, “I don’t know.”

  “It’s okay. You can keep your secrets. For now,” Angela added with a wink, and then waved the waiter over.

  “Is everything okay, ma’am?” he asked.

  “I believe it is,” she said. “But please take this salad away and get me what my daughter’s having.” And when he was gone, she smiled broadly. “If I’m going to give you the ‘climb-every-mountain’ speech, I might as well follow it myself.”

  Rather than answer, Aubrey cut her burger in half and handed half to her mother. “Just to hold you over.” And then she held up her side and toasted, “To a new beginning.”

  Angela smiled. “For both of us.”

  * * *

  A week later, Aubrey found herself sitting in another restaurant waiting for none other than Bill Bellows to meet her.

  Her lunch with her mother had been very eye-opening, and it made Aubrey realize not only did she have options, she also had hope. It took a little time to come up with a plan to achieve what it was she wanted out of her life, but once she got the ball rolling, the obvious step had been to call Bill.

  “Hey, R.B.,” he said as he sat down across from her and got himself situated.

  “R.B.?”