by S. M. Smith
“You will start all necessary testing and whatever introductory hormone therapy you can now. Once we are married, we will start trying for a baby.” Stephen gives me a look of fierce determination. I replay his words in my head and still don’t think I’m understanding him correctly.
“Huh?” My head is starting to spin. “Are you saying you don’t want to wait a year now?”
“Listen. I have spent a lifetime with you as my best friend. And I will finish this lifetime with you as my wife. But we only have a small window to build the family we want. I’m not going to narrow that window even smaller because I’m selfish and I want you all to myself. We’ll start taking all the necessary steps now and let whatever happens happen.”
I feel warm tears slip down my cheeks and I didn’t even realize I was on the verge of crying. Since the moment the doctor told me that I have villainous ovaries, the only thing I can think of is the minimized possibilities of having one baby, let alone any more. But right now, I’m gently reminded of the man who has had my back for the last twenty years. The man who, regardless of whatever he’s going through, is still willing to sacrifice for me. The man who has completely stolen my heart and that I love more than anything else in this world.
He leans in, wipes my tears away and kisses my forehead. The soft feel of his lips on my forehead sends a rippling through my body, and there isn’t anything more that I want right now than to curl up in his arms and not leave.
“I’ll go send the prescription to your pharmacy and be back with both your medication and post-op instructions.” Dr. Graham gets up and exits, leaving me dumbfounded at what has transpired in the last five minutes.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask Stephen as he stands up and motions for me to scoot over. I do and he sits beside me and pulls me as close to him as I can get without tangling us both up in tube and cords.
“Absolutely. One hundred percent,” he says before kissing the top of my head.
“What if we get pregnant right away?”
“Then we’ll need to find a crib and some other place to store all your photography equipment.” His chest shakes from a held in chuckle. “Or we can buy a house. A big one, in the country.” I can practically feel the smile spread across his face as he holds me tighter.
“What if we don’t get pregnant at all?” The question comes out more frightened than I intended to give away. He pulls back and levels his eyes to mine.
“Then we figure out another way to build our family. But I promise you that we will have a family. As many as you want. We might need to win the lottery in order to feed them all, but we won’t stop until you’re happy.” He winks at me and I know that he’s willing to say anything to make me happy. I should probably get this all in writing while I have the chance, but instead I wrap my arms around him and pull him as close to me as I can get him.
***
“Okay, so I brought both Hunger Games movies, all of the seasons I could find of Gilmore Girls because I thought Grey’s Anatomy probably isn’t the best thing to be watching right now, and a half gallon of cookies and cream ice cream for tomorrow. But for right now, I have five listings I want to show you,” Daphne says as she hops onto the couch beside me.
I cringe, hoping Stephen didn’t just hear that. Unfortunately, he did.
“Listings? For what?” he asks, as he turns off the kitchen light and brings me a mug of warm tea.
“You didn’t tell him?!” Daphne’s eyes nearly explode out of her head. “Why haven’t you told him yet?!”
For the same reason I haven’t told her about the other bombs the doctor dropped on me.
“I haven’t had the chance yet,” I fib. The raised eyebrows on Stephen’s face tells me he’s not buying the lie.
He agreed to keep Daphne in the dark about the start of progesterone cream and our limited number of reproductive years. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be able to keep it from her though; the girl can tell what I’m feeling by the shoes I wear for crying out loud. I’m not sure she has any type of shoe classified as “grouchy due to hormone treatment” though so I might be okay.
“We voted this morning. We’re searching for a location for a second studio!” Daphne squeals. Stephen’s eyes bore into mine and I suddenly want to dissolve into the couch.
“That’s great,” he says unenthusiastically.
“It is! Isaiah and Shelby have agreed to relocate so they can run it. But we have to figure out where we want to go and then we will have to hire a couple photographers for each site. Depending on where we set up, we might even be able to take on another intern too!”
Each word Daphne speaks is like another shovel full of dirt slowly being removed to make my grave.
“I see. So when are you guys hoping to find a new place?” Stephen asks slowly, never taking his eyes off me.
“If we can find a place quickly, we hope to have the new site open by the first of the year.” I seriously want to gag Daphne at this point.
“Hmm,” is all that Stephen manages as he finally breaks eye contact with me.
Daphne missed the stare down between Stephen and I and plops down beside me on the couch with a few printouts.
“Daphne, I don’t think this is really a good time to do this. I’m feeling really tired. We’ve had a long day and would really just like to relax a bit before Stephen has to go home. Can we look at these tomorrow?”
She looks a little down-hearted at my suggestion, but after checking her watch, she brightens right up.
“Actually I need to go anyway. You guys okay to hang by yourselves tonight?” She jumps right up and starts collecting her stuff, a little too hurriedly.
“Yes…Got a hot date there, Speedy?” I ask. She’s being awfully suspicious.
“Kinda.” She giggles. “Danica’s flight should be landing soon. She decided last minute to bring Georgia with her.”
I had totally forgotten Daphne’s younger sister was coming to town. Danica’s the only family that Daphne ever really talks to. Besides her mother. But I’m not sure a ten minute conversation once a month really constitutes as “talking” to her mother.
“Please give both her and Georgia a hug from me,” I tell her as she rushes out the door.
The air in the room gets sucked out as the door shuts.
“So…you want to tell me about this new addition now that you have the chance?”
I feel the laser beams shooting from his eyes as I stare at my mug.
“If you want to wait the year, I’ll understand.” Fear that he does want to wait makes my voice barely above a whisper.
“Jessie.” When I don’t look up at him, he reaches over and gently pulls my chin to face him. “Oh, baby. I don’t want to wait. But need I remind you that adding this extra stress could be very counterproductive toward getting pregnant?”
He’s right.
“Please don’t ask me to choose between having children and building my business. I know what I would choose, but I can’t ask Daphne and the team to wait for me to get back on board.”
“I’m not asking for you to choose. I’m asking you to make sure this is what you want.”
“It is, if it’s what you want too. I agreed to wait; to give us some time to be us and now you’re willing to give that up for me and what I want. I know how much of a sacrifice this is to you.” He doesn’t say anything, just nods at me, so I adjust so that I’m facing him.
“Listen, we’ve talked about children and we’ve talked about our long term goals and dreams. But what we haven’t talked about is a backup plan. I know we have options, and I’m willing to make whatever concessions I need to, to make sure that you’re as happy as you make me.”
I cup both hands around his face and pull him to me to kiss him. He gently places his hands on my hips and carefully pulls me into his lap. His kiss is warm and hungry and I feel his pain through all this. He’s hurting almost as much as I am, but I know his pain is seeing me go through the scariest thing I could possibly
go through. The grip of his hands and arms tightens the longer we embrace.
“I feel like I could lose you at any moment.” He breathes before he plunges in for another soul searching kiss. His hands slip to the flesh of my back and their heat ignites my senses, sparking every nerve ending in my body, including the nerves around my incision site. I can’t help the involuntary wince that follows. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
I pull my lips away and fall against his shoulder, fighting tears. Tears of frustration, tears of physical pain. Tears that I’m tired of crying.
“Are you sure this is all worth it, Jessie?” His voice is barely a whisper as he lays his head against mine.
Still fighting the pain, all I can do is nod against his shoulder. His arms wrap safely around me, snuggling me against him.
“Then yes. This is what I want too.”
Chapter Twenty
~Stephen~
“That sounds great. We can be there around ten tomorrow morning…Okay. Thank you again….Okay. We’ll see you in the morning then. Thanks. Bye.” Jessie hangs up with the caterer only to text Daphne and then dial the alterations seamstress.
We’ve been on the road for almost forty five minutes and she’s been making phone calls non-stop. With the wedding only a little over a week away, she’s right to be checking in and making sure all last minute details are hammered out, but at the rate that she’s going, I’m really concerned that she’s over doing it. And every time I try to ask her to slow down, she gets frustrated with me, telling me she doesn’t have the time or the energy to slow down. I even tried to offer to take a few things off her plate, but she insists that she be the one to make sure everything is in order.
I think it’s a defense mechanism though. I think she thinks that if she focuses solely on the wedding and work that she won’t have to really worry about the fact that her body has decided to go AWOL on her. But I know her, the more she tries to ignore it, the worse it could come back to hurt her. And her strong willed, stubborn side just makes her that much more relentless.
She hangs up from the seamstress’s call and turns to me.
“The tuxes are ready. Can you or Grady pick them up by Wednesday?” she asks without looking at me.
“Of course.” I reach over and grab her hand and bring it to my lips. She relaxes for just a second and I see a crack in the armor. She feels it too and tenses back up, pulling her hand back.
“So tell me about this building we’re going to look at,” I say, hoping to distract her from her nuptial to-do list.
She closes her planner and slides it back into her purse, and then sits back in her seat, readjusting her seat belt so she can pull one leg up underneath her.
“It’s a small warehouse along the outskirts of Columbia. The property actually has a bit of land to it. I’m hoping it has some decent landscaping to it so we could set up outdoor sessions.”
“So are you guys officially going with Columbia then?”
“I think so. It opens up a ton of opportunities for us with the university being so close. We can have more interns, and the potential for building our clientele base is more lucrative than in Lawrence. I know it’s a further drive, but Daphne and I both think it’s the better business decision. Not to mention that Isaiah and Shelby have already fallen in love with the area.”
“And it’s like your third home.” I see her smile in my peripheral.
She doesn’t say anything, but leans her head back to rest. After a moment or two I see her eyes slide shut and I relax a bit too, comforted that she’s taking a moment to just slow down. However we barely get another five minutes of peace and quiet before her phone starts ringing again.
“Let it go to voicemail.”
“I can’t. It’s the bakery and they close in ten minutes.” She picks it up and answers. “Hello?”
I can’t help it, but between the ER and all the visits back and forth to Dr. Graham’s office, I fear that if she keeps up this outrageous tempo, she won’t make it to the wedding. Call me selfish, but I have been waiting a long time for this woman. I’m willing to do anything to make sure that she’s healthy and ready to become my wife.
She hangs up the phone and I hold my hand out.
“What?”
“I would like to see your phone for a second please.”
“Stephen. I need this in case someone calls about the wedding.”
“Jessie. It’s after hours now. For once, someone can wait on the bride to call them back. We have another hour before we get there, and I’d like you to spend it relaxing, or talking to me.”
She reluctantly hands it to me. I silence it and put it in my pocket so she’s not tempted. She doesn’t speak to me for several minutes and when I look over at her, I see she’s none too happy.
“Baby, please don’t be mad.” I reach for her hand and lace my fingers with hers.
“I’m not,” she spits out.
“Well your voice clearly doesn’t agree with you.”
“I just want everything to be perfect. With everything that has been going on, I need something to go right.” Her voice breaks and there goes that crack in my heart again.
“Jess, I’m sure it will be perfect. We could be getting married in burlap sacks in a mud puddle and it would be perfect for me.”
“You’re such a boy.” She giggles. It feels like forever since I’ve heard that sound and it does things to my insides that make me thankful we’re in a moving car and not on a private couch somewhere.
“You need to do that more often,” I tell her, brushing my lips across her knuckles.
“What?”
“Giggle. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard it. I miss it.” And what it does to me.
“Oh.” She pulls her hand back to her lap and focuses her eyes there.
“Hey. Come back to me.” I contemplate pulling over so we can have this conversation face to face. When I hear her sniffle, I do. Once I’ve put the car in park and turned on my hazard lights, I turn to her. I reach over and wipe away a tear on her cheek and cup her face.
“I don’t feel like I have much to laugh at anymore. Everything about my life right now demands so much from me that I can’t find joy in anything. It’s all work.” She sniffs and wipes the other side of her face before looking up at me. “The wedding. My job, which I know is supposed to be work, but I used to love it and now I just find it so taxing. Then spending time with you is a task in itself since we’ve had to make arrangements not to be alone. Then add on taking medication at the same time for so many days and then having to go in to have a highly uncomfortable ultrasound done every so often. I don’t feel human, I feel like a machine.”
From my perspective she’s had this overwhelming load of responsibilities, and I knew they had to be taking a physical toll on her. But I hadn’t stopped to really understand the emotional aspect of it all.
“How can I help relieve some of this extra stress?” I ask, wanting so badly to take it all off her plate. But she shakes her head.
“I just need to get through the next couple of weeks. Once the wedding is over and we are able to spend our free time alone, just the two of us, everything will be better. I know it. I just need to get through the next couple of weeks.”
“Would a vacation help?” I joke, but judging by the way her eyes nearly explode out of her head, I realize too late that I’ve added something to her already overloaded plate.
“OH NO! The honeymoon! I totally haven’t even thought about preparing for that.” She leans down to pull her phone out of her purse before realizing I still have it. “I need my phone back please.”
“Are you going to call someone?” I ask.
“I need to talk to Daphne about arranging my sessions while we’re gone.”
“She’s not at the office. You can talk to her about it tomorrow.”
“But I’ll forget by tomorrow.”
“Then write it down in the handy little planner I got you.”
She rolls her eyes a
t me, pulls out her bag, and digs through her day planner and makes a note in it. She puts everything back in her purse and sits it back in the floorboard. She looks back up at me with borderline annoyance on her face and I can’t help but find her amusing. I reach across the car and pull her to meet me half way so that I can kiss her beautiful lips. I pull back just enough so our foreheads are touching.
“I’m putting in our vows that I will promise to irritate you just so that you’ll give me that look again.” She giggles and everything in me wants to kiss her again. So I do. “And I promise to do all sorts of fun things to you just to make you giggle.”
My smirk makes her giggle again and feel like I could tear my beloved car apart trying to meet the desires in my gut she inspires.
“You should leave that last part out. I don’t want our parents to have heart problems in front of all those people.” She full out laughs now and I decide that I better get us back on the road before I decide to make good use of the small back seat.
***
“So, first impressions?” I ask Jessie as we pull up to the building. One glance at her face tells me that this may have been a waste of gas. The last hour has been full of giggles and joking around with a much livelier looking Jessie though, so I am not counting it a total loss.
“Let’s see if the building holds any potential.” I love my little optimist.
We get out of the car and walk around the side of the building to look at the “additional land” that was listed to be a part of the property. Concrete jungle may be more appropriate. The whole length of the building is nestled up to an asphalt parking lot that was once patched with tar, but now sports random sprouts of grass and several large potholes. The painted lines that once outlined where cars should park are so faded that some spots could hold multiple cars. The curb has crumbled in many spots, leaving the surface scattered with gravel. The whole plot would either need to be excavated or resurfaced, either way, it’s virtually unusable as is.
“Well you could always market it as industrial chic,” I suggest and manage to get a playful smile out of her. She swats at my chest but I catch her hand and pull her in. We stand holding each other in our own little world when I hear an throat clear behind us.