It Happened One Night

by Lisa Dale

  November 24

  Eli woke for no reason in the middle of the night. He was in Lana’s bedroom, and even though he’d slept in her bed a number of times now, the wonder of opening his eyes to see her face, her contours shadowed and softly lit by the alarm clock lights, still made him feel choked with gratitude. Tonight was the first night she’d returned from the hospital, with strict instructions to take it very slow. He would have thought she’d sleep like the dead. But instead the sound of her breathing told him that she was awake.

  “You okay?” he asked. He reached out a hand to her, felt the heat of her skin beneath the soft fleece of her pajamas.

  “Fine so far.”

  “You can’t sleep?”

  “No,” she said.

  He moved toward her and stroked her hair. She snuggled deeper into her pillow and closer to him. He pressed his nose to her hair and smelled her shampoo, tea tree oil and mint. When she spoke, her words were muffled by cotton and he had to strain to hear them. “I don’t want to give up this child. I want to keep it. For my own.”

  He sighed, struck by an overwhelming feeling of relief. He kissed her forehead gently. “That’s wonderful. Lana, I’m so glad.”

  “But how am I going to tell her?”

  “It’s going to be hard.”

  “I’m a terrible person.”

  “You were confused. But I think you’re starting to know what you want now.” Lana was silent, and he fought back the urge to ask about what else she might have made a decision about, whether he would be welcomed as part of her family too. “You’re going to be a good mother. And that child will live in a good, loving house. I know it, Lana. Because I know you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He waited, holding his breath. Now was the part when she should agree to marry him. It made perfect sense, anyone could see that. He counted the seconds. He’d told himself he wouldn’t bring up the subject of marriage again; the offer he’d made her had no expiration date, and so he had an obligation to be patient. And yet, even though he hadn’t spoken about offering her his grandmother’s ring, he could feel the subject stretching between them, unspoken and tense.

  “I’m really tired,” she said.

  He waited a moment, then loosened his arms and let her go. The inches between them felt wide as a desert, and he wondered if she was already pulling away. Maybe something about accepting the baby made her less likely to accept him—as if she wanted to protect herself and her child from hurt by not letting the baby have any kind of father at all.

  He wondered: If she couldn’t shake him off gently, would she humiliate him again? Was she already planning how to send him on his way?

  He pushed the thoughts from his mind. Their love for each other had always been strong, but their romance was still fragile and new. There was risk if he trusted her and risk if he didn’t. He wanted the promise that she wouldn’t break his heart again. He hoped she would give it soon.

  November 25

  Karin opened the door to Lana’s house with her key and shouldered her way into the kitchen, glad that the Wildflower Barn’s reduced winter hours allowed her a little extra time to care for her sister.

  She put down her bags on the countertop and shouted hello. “I brought groceries.”

  She threw her keys on the kitchen table and dug around in her bags. She’d bought all the fixings for a small Thanksgiving dinner for tomorrow. She searched until she found a pint of ice cream and a couple of tabloid magazines that Lana had asked for. Since becoming bedridden Lana had apparently become addicted to celebrity gossip. Karin thought it was funny—this unexpected angle of her sister’s personality—but she didn’t judge.

  “Hello?” She found Lana propped up on her pillows, staring at the shadow of her own hand against the wall. She looked stronger, more robust, than when Karin had last seen her in the hospital just a few days ago.

  “Look,” Lana said. “It’s a duck.”

  Karin laughed and put the magazines among the other books on the messy shelf. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I brought reinforcements.”

  Lana dropped her hand and turned to face her sister. There was an odd look in her eyes, a restlessness that had given way to resignation. She was going stir-crazy, by Karin’s guess.

  “Oh, Kari. So much has happened.”

  She laughed. “Angelina and Brad are adopting again?”

  “No. Really. Important things. There’s so much to tell you. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “What’s going on?” Karin handed her sister the ice cream and a spoon she’d grabbed from the kitchen, then she stood to tidy up the glasses and magazines and books on Lana’s nightstand. She was glad she could be useful as she plucked a rumpled sweatshirt off Lana’s bedside lamp and tossed it toward the hamper.

  “No. Don’t do that. Sit.” Lana put down the ice cream and patted the side of the bed. “We have to talk.”

  Goose bumps ran up Karin’s arms. “Talk?” She sat down slowly on the bedside chair, hoping she didn’t know where the conversation was headed. Something about the tone of her sister’s voice…

  “Karin. Something’s changed.”

  Karin sat with her spine straight, not looking at Lana’s face and not allowing herself to jump to any conclusions she couldn’t stand. She squeezed her fingers together hard, hoping and knowing it was useless to hope.

  “I don’t know how to say this,” Lana said, her eyes awash with sadness. “But I can’t give the baby up. My feelings have… they’ve changed.”

  Karin couldn’t think of a word to say. Her mind felt as weightless as a cloud.

  “I know it’s terrible timing,” Lana rushed on. “And I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. But Karin, I lay here, and I swear I can close my eyes and get so deep inside myself that I can feel the baby’s heart beating. I have to keep it. I can’t stand the idea of letting it grow up while I just watch.”

  Slowly the truth, so monstrous and terrible, began to sink in. Lana wanted to take away her child. When Karin spoke, she could barely squeeze the words out through her clenched teeth. “No.”

  Lana frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “No, you can’t,” Karin said, her voice tight. Panic gathered speed inside her like the first tight currents of a maelstrom. “You’re not thinking. What kind of mother would you be if you don’t want your child one moment and want it the next? If you have all these big stupid dreams of living in Costa Rica of all places?”

  Lana averted her eyes. “I can try.”

  “Sure. Of course you can try. Knitting is something you tried. Horseback riding is something you tried. Gossip magazines are something you’re trying right now. But motherhood? It’s not another hobby that you can pick up and then stop if you get bored. Be reasonable, for the baby’s sake.”

  “I can’t believe you have so little faith in me,” she said softly.

  Karin leaned forward in her chair, her hand pressing Lana’s bedcovers. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you. I think you’re an amazing person. You live your life in… in this way that I never could. And I wish I could be more like you. But we’re talking about a baby here, Lanie. We have to do the right thing.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” she said.

  Karin sat on the edge of her chair, her back straight, her face turned away. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. “What are you going to do when that baby is two years old and all of a sudden you don’t want it anymore? All of a sudden you want to drop everything and leave town.”

  “I’ll want it,” Lana said. “I’m not like Calvert. I trust myself now.”

  “But you’re being irrational!” Karin said, her voice a touch too high.

  “Why are you fighting me on this? Do you even realize what you’re doing?”

  “I’m trying to talk sense into you.”

  “You’re trying to talk me out of keeping my own baby! You’re trying to make me doubt myself because you want a baby so bad. Do
you understand what that is, Karin?”

  Karin’s stomach cramped, and the word manipulation raced through her mind.

  When Lana spoke again, her voice had softened. Tears were shining in her eyes. “I know you mean well. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough or honest enough to understand this before. But if I give this child to you, I’ll resent you for the rest of my life. There will be so much bad blood between us, I don’t think we’ll be able to come out the other side and still be as close as we are. I love you and the baby too much to lose you both.”

  Karin choked back the sound that almost left her throat, part sob and part laugh. “How can you do this to me?” she asked, humiliated by the quaver in her voice.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you.” A tear slid down Lana’s face, catching in the crevice beside her nose.

  “You can NOT do this!” She slammed her fist on the bed, inches from Lana’s hip. “Lana, you told me that baby is mine. Mine. I rearranged my house, my marriage, my whole life for that baby. You can’t just play games with people like this.”

  “I’m sorry, but Karin, don’t you think you might have pressured me a little over these last few weeks?”

  “I didn’t pressure you. Giving me the baby was the right thing to do!”

  “I thought it was. I really did. But I was wrong.”

  Karin’s arms fell to her sides. Numbness came over her, and she didn’t try to stop it. She could think of no way to end the conversation on a winning note; it was as if it had already been scripted and Karin had no say in the words.

  She couldn’t bear the sight of her sister for another moment. She walked out of Lana’s bedroom, past the grocery bags of Thankgiving foods that now wouldn’t be used, and she didn’t look back.

  Lana heard her sister leave—heard her minivan start and speed away. She leaned her head back against the wall, trying to get her crying under control. Since she was a little girl, Karin had been her whole world—her sister, her mother, her friend. Once when they were children, they’d drawn matching “tattoos” of flowers on each other’s arms, promising that even though the ink would fade, the tattoo would always be there—invisible—making them unified and the same. They’d needed that kind of solidarity with each other in Calvert’s house. Lana still needed it now.

  But this time… this time might truly have been the last straw. She had no idea how she was going to make this up to her sister. She’d made countless sacrifices for Karin over the years—staying in Vermont among them—but for all her efforts to keep her sister happy and to remain by her side, it seemed wrong that it should end like this.

  She wiped the tears from her face and tried to calm down, willing the panic to subside. This was the first time Lana could remember that she’d ever had the focus, strength, and desire to do something important that went against her sister’s wishes. But instead of feeling proud for the first glimmer of real independence and self-assertion, she felt terrible. She’d finally done something startlingly good and right in her life—and it felt utterly and completely wrong.

  They needed forgiveness between them. Compassion. Lana would do whatever it took to earn her sister’s respect and understanding again—not that she entirely deserved it. She put her hands over the baby inside her and hoped she’d done the right thing.

  “Gene.” Karin found him sitting in the kitchen, eating a sandwich and reading the paper. She slammed the door behind her. The little radio on the kitchen counter was blaring commercials, the announcer’s voice grating and loud. “Something’s happened.”

  He dropped the paper, got to his feet, and crossed the room to stand before her. He was still wearing his work clothes, and he’d not yet taken off his dress shoes. She hated to ruin a perfectly peaceful moment after a long day, but here she stood, her eyes bloodshot and swollen with tears.

  “What is it? Oh, honey… is it… are you…?”

  “No. I’m not pregnant. It’s Lana… she—she—”

  “What?”

  “She said we can’t have the baby!” she blurted, wrapping her arms around her husband’s middle and burying her face in his chest.

  He didn’t move. “Wait. Slow down. I don’t understand.”

  Karin rubbed her face on his shirt, the buttons scratching at her cheeks. “She told me we could have it. And then she took it back. I was this close. I was so so close. And now I’ve lost everything! All because of her.”

  He took her by the shoulders and pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “Did you ask her if we could have her baby?”

  She stuttered, fumbling to explain.

  “Did you, Karin? Did you ask her? Yes or no?”

  She wrenched away from him. “I wanted to save our marriage.”

  Gene’s face went as blank as if she’d just slapped him; his hands dropped to his sides and he took a few steps away from her. “Who are you anymore?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you want a baby. But how bad? Enough to tear your family apart? Enough to manipulate your sister into giving you her child? Enough to ruin your marriage?”

  Karin stuck out her chin. “What do you mean, ‘ruin my marriage’?”

  He was quiet.

  “Gene, you have to do something. You have to help me. I don’t know what to do.”

  She waited for him to speak, to tell her how they were going to fix this terrible mess. Instead he just said, “Oh, Karin. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m… I’m leaving.”

  She wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “What do you mean, leaving?”

  “I’m leaving you.”

  She put her hands on her stomach; it churned under her palms. “You can’t go now. Didn’t you listen to me? Lana isn’t giving us the baby after all.”

  “She was never giving us the baby.”

  She turned and hit the wall with the fat part of her fist. “You’re blaming me? My heart is breaking in two and you’re blaming me? You’re supposed to help me, not make it worse!”

  He took a few steps toward her, his strides slow but long. To her shock he leaned down and gave her the most tender, most tranquil kiss she’d felt in a long time. Some of the anger inside her dissolved and gave way to deep, heavy grief.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he reached for the suitcase leaning beside the back door, the suitcase that she realized was already packed. How many times had she noticed it sitting there, and yet she hadn’t acknowledged what it meant until now? It had been a hint. One of the many hints she should have been paying attention to. One of the many hints she hadn’t let herself see.

  “Wait! You can’t go. I need you here.”

  The smile he gave her was full of pity and remorse.

  She gripped the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ll go with you. Just give me five minutes to pack.”

  “It’s too late for that now.”

  She put a hand to her forehead and gathered her thoughts. “Okay. You’re right. You know what? You’re right. We’ll just go. Come on. We can buy anything I need along the way.”

  She tried to push past him, out the back door, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. When he spoke his voice was quiet. “I said no.”

  She looked into his face, the brick wall of his eyes. The energy drained out of her. “Gene…”

  He only shook his head.

  Her bottom lip began to tremble. “Please don’t leave me alone. Honey? Please?”

  His face softened, those features she fell in love with years ago still the same, but full of a kind of sorrow she’d never seen before.

  “I’m sorry for everything. Just please…” She put her hands on his chest. “Just please stay with me.”

  For a moment she saw the light in his eyes, a faint echo of the light that flickered so strongly there when they’d stood together before the altar and said, “I do.” But no sooner had the light rose up than it went away again, leaving nothing but a cold, fathomless chi
ll.

  “I have to do this,” he said. “And you have to let me. It’s the right thing.”

  Her hands fell away from him. In her mind she saw a vision of herself, of what she must look like at this moment to him. All this time she’d believed she was trying to do the right thing. But the truth was, she’d done everything wrong. She’d treated him badly—she’d been thinking only of herself, of what she wanted, while his needs received only a passing glance. And she’d treated Lana horribly—her own sister. She’d been manipulative and selfish and above all, she’d been a liar; she’d lied to everyone. To herself.

  “Where will you go?” she asked.

  “My brother’s got a spare bedroom.”

  “But that’s two hours away. How will you go to work?”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  She fought the tears that threatened to fall. Obviously this wasn’t some rash decision. He had it all planned out. “Is this permanent?”

  “I hope not. I just need some time to think. And so do you.”

  She nodded and gripped her hands together to keep them from shaking. “Don’t do this. I love you.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. She held her breath.

  “I love you too,” he said. Then he left.

  November 29

  Lana sat at the kitchen table, using tweezers to carefully arrange a purple and yellow Johnny-jump-up in the perfect position over a circle of pressed Queen Anne’s lace. She’d always liked to save some flowers so she could frame them in the winter and have a little springtime beauty even when the ground froze. But this year she’d gone through most of her flower stash in half the usual time. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and sighed, wishing Karin was here with her to pass the time, wondering how long it would be until they talked again.

  The doorbell rang and she stood slowly and carefully, her mind attuned to every ache and pain in detail that was more excruciating than any pain itself. She wasn’t expecting Eli until later, when he planned to make them dinner. She walked slowly through the house, thinking that maybe Charlotte had dropped by—but Charlotte wasn’t quite so trigger-happy with the doorbell as her current visitor was.