Tomorrow and Always

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  The minute Jesse was out of sight, Malcolm’s smile vanished. What was keeping him and Karissa together? They had no great moments together, no spiritual experiences worth mentioning. They had their work, their occasional trips, and their house. That was all. He thought he loved her, but sometimes she was more distant than a stranger.

  As he left the hospital, Malcolm automatically felt for his cigarettes. He remembered at the last moment and shoved them back into his pocket. Already he could tell it was going to be a long day.

  Chapter Six

  Karissa eyed the members of the board surrounding the large table. Each seemed satisfied with her presentation of how the new computer programs were simplifying procedures at the hospital. Now she would sit back and let Jesse explain how he and his two partners would further customize his designs. As she listened, she was impressed with his attention to detail. Malcolm had been right; Jesse was a good choice for this job.

  Weak beams of light beat at the pair of elongated windows on one side of the room, but not a hint of warmth penetrated the thick panes. Karissa felt cold. At least the rain had finally stopped its incessant patter. Malcolm would be glad for the blue sky and the opportunity to film without interruption—until the next deluge. The constant rain was one more irritating thing about Kodiak. She hated the continuous drizzle. Who cared if that was what made the summers so green? She wished she didn’t have to be on Kodiak this summer—or at all, for that matter.

  Her mind wandered back to Dr. Taylor’s fertility tests and her decision to give up smoking. Stopping after so many years wouldn’t be easy, but she had to succeed, if only to prove to herself that she was doing everything in her power to conceive a child. As though reading her mind, Damon Wolfe pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He flicked one out and put it between his lips, for a moment looking more falcon-like than usual. He proffered the pack to her.

  Her mouth felt dry, and it was all she could do not to accept just one little cigarette. Several others on the board were also smoking, as the board room was one of the few places smoking was allowed in the hospital. No one would think anything about her joining in with the others.

  But she would know. If she really wanted to have a baby, she had to beat this habit.

  She shook her head at Damon, and instead reached inside her jacket pocket for the Lifesavers she’d bought from the vending machine in the hall. In front of her on the mahogany table, a cup of water had replaced the coffee she usually drank. She felt tired, and wished for the kick the caffeine normally gave her. Would a swallow or two hurt? She bit the inside of her lower lip. I won’t give in.

  It was going to be a long day.

  She didn’t let herself think about the nights. Without sleeping pills would the dreams come more often? No matter, she would endure them. Her body would be free of all detrimental substances, one way or the other.

  * * * * *

  When Karissa arrived home at six o’clock, dinner was in the oven and Brionney sat on a bar stool near the sink, washing vegetables for a salad. Her legs, clad in black stretch pants, twisted to one side so she could sit closer to the running water. A growing pile of washed lettuce made a large mound on the cutting board.

  “Smells good.” Karissa removed her high heels and slipped them into the closet near the door, exchanging them for her comfortable slippers. The hiking boots she’d worn Saturday had finally dried, and she kicked them into the closet with the other shoes.

  “It’s roast. The first thing I ever learned to cook.”

  Karissa smiled. “Me too. Need a hand?”

  “I’m just about finished. Why don’t you sit and rest?”

  “You’re the one who should be resting.”

  Brionney flashed her a dimpled smile. “That’s why I’m sitting on this chair. Besides, as long as I keep my stomach comfortably full and don’t stand up too much, I can get by. I keep telling myself it’ll only be for the first six months.” Her laugh warmed Karissa’s heart.

  “I thought the magic number was three.”

  “I guess no one heard that in my family. We always feel much better after about six.”

  “That’s rotten.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So where are the girls?”

  Brionney grimaced. “In the greenhouse. I hope you don’t mind. They told me you said it was all right. They played outside in the snow, but it’s so slushy and they got so wet and cold . . .”

  “It’s okay.” The headache that pounded at Karissa’s temples seemed to throb with more intensity. She shuffled to the large window and peered through the plants into the greenhouse. The girls were there, all right. Savannah and Rosalie played in the sand while Camille flitted from plant to plant, studying and occasionally reaching out to smooth a shiny leaf. “They look like they’re having a good time.”

  Brionney hopped off the stool, drying her hands with her apron. “I warned them about hurting anything.”

  Karissa met Brionney’s anxious stare and shrugged. “They can’t hurt anything that can’t be replaced.” As she said it, the words became true. Her body felt almost tingly—a sensation she hadn’t felt in years, though it seemed familiar. What could it be?

  “Did you have a hard day?” asked Brionney. “You seem kind of tired.”

  “I quit smoking,” Karissa said.

  “You did? Why?”

  “It was time.”

  Brionney seemed to understand that Karissa didn’t want to be questioned further. “If there’s anything I can do, I’d love to help. You and Malcolm have really been great to us.”

  Karissa’s headache had eased now. For some inexplicable reason, she felt drawn to Brionney. Why was she so easy to talk to? She could almost be one of Karissa’s sisters. “There is something,” she said impulsively. “But I wouldn’t insist if it didn’t appeal to you, especially since you’re pregnant. I mean, you probably wouldn’t want to, but in case you didn’t mind—”

  “What is it?” A slight smile played on Brionney’s lips.

  Karissa took a deep breath. It wasn’t like her to be so indecisive. “Well, instead of finding some other place to rent, you could stay here. In return for your stay, you could make dinner. Just Monday through Friday. Something healthy. I’ve never been one for taking the time to do it, and I feel ready for a change.”

  The other woman looked thoughtful. “That seems too good to be true. I mean, when you’re fixing a meal anyway, two extra people don’t make much difference. Maybe we could pay you something in addition.”

  Karissa shook her head. “It won’t cost us anything extra to have you here. Just water and heat and the like. That will be in exchange for you making the dinners.”

  “I really like the idea. Jesse could drive Savannah in to school, and I could pick her up in the afternoon. I could make extra dinners on Saturdays and freeze them in case I’m not feeling well during the week. I admit, I’ve certainly slept better since coming here. But your home is so beautiful, so private. Are you sure we won’t be too much of a bother?”

  Karissa took a deep breath through her nose, enjoying the smell of the roast. “Not if you keep cooking like that.”

  Brionney seemed pleased. “Well, I’ll have to talk to Jesse, but for me, I like the idea. We could try it, say, for a month, and see how we like it.”

  “Deal,” Karissa agreed. “Now, do you think we have time to build a sandcastle before the men come home?”

  Brionney laughed and untied her apron. “Why not?”

  In the end, Brionney made a castle with Savannah and Rosalie, while Karissa showed Camille her array of plant books. Camille was fascinated, and Karissa relished the attention to her beloved plants.

  All too soon the men arrived, and they gathered in the dining room for a proper dinner. The rectangular room was comfortably large without being ostentatious. The floor was carpeted in a dark gray, except for beneath the cherry table, where a large rectangle of ceramic tile had been inserted to catch spills. The walls
were painted off-white up to the dark wood trim at their halfway point, and above this a ginger-colored wallpaper broke the monotony. An oversized mirror took up one of the longer walls, and under it stood a small wall table with knickknacks. On the opposite wall hung a large picture of Jesus, double-matted and framed in cherry wood. He had black hair and kind brown eyes. Over a loose white shirt he wore a red robe.

  Karissa covered the long table with the hand-embroidered and crocheted cloth Malcolm’s mother had given them for their wedding. It was the first time she had used it.

  “What’s the special occasion?” Malcolm asked.

  “Our quitting smoking,” she said lightly. Of course there was more news, but she and Brionney had agreed to talk to their husbands privately before opening her idea up for discussion.

  Camille hugged Malcolm’s leg. “Oh, thank you, Uncle Malcolm! I’ve been praying so hard that you wouldn’t die.”

  Malcolm chuckled uneasily. He bent and picked Camille up, setting her gently on a chair.

  “Now don’t spill anything,” Jesse warned, “or we’ll be kicked out in the snow.”

  Karissa laughed. “The tablecloth can be washed.”

  The noise level in the room was high but comfortable. Karissa felt transported back in time to her own large family. Malcolm’s face curved into a satisfied smile, and she knew he must also be remembering his own days as a child.

  After dinner, the children insisted that Malcolm and Karissa have family night with them. Malcolm immediately gave in to Savannah’s pleading blue eyes and Camille’s trusting smile. Karissa felt more reluctant.

  “Why don’t we use the sitting room?” Malcolm suggested.

  Brionney blanched. “I think it would be better to use the toy room upstairs. The girls have a hard time keeping still.”

  “But it’s perfect for a family night,” Malcolm said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  The sitting room was off the main entrance where the polished oak staircase swept up to the second floor. Though they mostly used the kitchen stairway, Karissa had insisted on this more elaborate one when they were building the house. She had long envisioned her daughter sweeping down the stairs in an elegant prom dress, while her date stared in awe below.

  They passed the staircase and went into the sitting room. A tall window graced the front wall, with a six-foot ficus tree on one side and a slightly smaller avocado on the other. All the furniture in the room was of light oak, handmade by Malcolm in his high school years. “I used to make things out of wood,” he told the girls. “See this long couch? I made the wood part. The cushions I had to buy ’cause I didn’t have time for sewing, but see how comfortable it is?”

  A clock like the one he’d given Karissa for her office hung on the wall above the fireplace, and a handmade doily from his mother decorated the coffee table. A two-foot-high wood figure of a little girl with long hair sat on the marble hearth.

  Savannah pointed to the little girl. “Did you make that?”

  “Not me,” Malcolm answered, reverently touching the wood. “Though I might try one some day. My grandfather made this one. He was Aleut, you know.”

  “What’s Al-ee-oot?” asked Rosalie.

  “The Aleut are the native people who were here before the white folk,” Malcolm said. “You’ve seen them around.” The girls nodded. “I’m half Aleut myself,” he continued. “My mother’s family have been on the island for generations.”

  “Is that why you make good things out of wood?” asked Camille.

  “Not really. I just learned by watching my grandfather when I was really little. He died, though, when I was about your age, and I learned the rest in school and from books.” He settled on the couch next to Karissa, with Rosalie in his arms. “But that’s enough about wood, don’t you think? Let’s get down to family night—and especially the treat. You did remember that, didn’t you, Jesse?”

  Jesse nodded, and the girls cheered.

  To Karissa’s embarrassment, the family night lesson was on the Word of Wisdom. She fumed inwardly. Why had she given in to her impulse and asked Brionney to stay? Now she would have to endure censorship in her own home. I can eat or drink what I please, she thought, before remembering that a scarce eleven hours before, it was she who had decided to change her habits—that in fact, her desire to eat right was the principal reason she had asked Brionney to stay.

  “Maybe Aunt Karissa can tell us why she decided to quit smoking,” Brionney said. Her eyes fell on Karissa, not demanding, but curious.

  “It’s not good for my body,” Karissa replied. And I want to have a baby. But she didn’t say the last words aloud. Those were too private. Only Malcolm knew her secret. She flashed him a look, warning without words; he nodded imperceptibly. To her relief, Brionney moved on to other aspects of the Word of Wisdom. The lesson was surprisingly brief.

  “We keep it short to hold their attention,” Jesse whispered to Karissa.

  Karissa smiled but inside she still fumed. There was no way she wanted them to stay now. Why hadn’t she thought it through before opening her big mouth?

  Much later, in the privacy of their room, Karissa told Malcolm about her invitation to the Hergarters. “I love the idea,” Malcolm said. “Those kids are so cute. And we could stand having a few regular meals together, couldn’t we? They’d be healthy meals, too.” His arms encircled her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her lingeringly on the mouth.

  Karissa could tell he was in a romantic mood, as he always was when they decided to try again for a baby, but she was too caught up in figuring out how to un-invite the Hergarters to respond to him. The only way she could think of going back on the deal was to have Malcolm refuse.

  “Of course, that means more wear and tear on the house and furniture,” she said. “I’d better tell them it’s not a good idea.”

  His hand tangled in her long hair. “But we always meant to have a lot of children, like our parents. This will be good practice.”

  Karissa wanted to tell him that at thirty-one, it wasn’t likely she would be having “a lot of children.” She’d be grateful for one or two.

  “But they’ll interrupt our privacy and get in the way,” Karissa ventured.

  “I feel very private,” he murmured in her ear. “This house could hold three families and we wouldn’t run into each other. I think you made a good decision. Besides, since you’ve decided that I’m not smoking anymore, you should at least allow me some good food.”

  “Me! We’re doing this for a baby!” she retorted before she saw his teasing smile.

  “Come on. Forget them. Let’s talk about what kind of baby crib I’m going to make. I ordered the wood today before going to Karluk. I’ve got the plans right here.” He pointed to a book on the table next to the bed.

  Karissa couldn’t remember the last time Malcolm had built something, and the thought brought a lump to her throat. She smiled and kissed him. “I want one that rocks,” she said softly.

  That night the dream didn’t come.

  Chapter Seven

  Malcolm was on his way to Karluk long before the sun rose Tuesday morning. He’d wanted to capture on film the way sunrise angled into the valley and the details of Aleutian morning life. He wanted to catch the men leaving to fish and the women cooking or hanging their laundry to dry. The black-haired, large-eyed children were his favorite. Their ready smiles stood out on their chubby cheeks whenever they caught sight of him.

  Without taking his eyes from the road, he opened the glove compartment in his Jeep to check his supply of candy for the Aleutian children. The dim light revealed a whole package of taffy—the children’s favorite—and also his pack of cigarettes Karissa had tried to throw away the day before.

  He made a guttural noise. A whole day without cigarettes! Yesterday he had kept feeling his shirt pocket for a cigarette, and each time had felt relief that he had left them in the jeep. Of course, he had meant to give the pack to the camera crew—like him, they weren’t partial to any brand
—and he still didn’t know why he hadn’t remembered.

  A sudden craving bit deep into him, penetrating his entire body. The Jeep slowed and came to a stop on the dirt road. The engine stalled. For a long moment, Malcolm sat staring at the pack of cigarettes nestled in the dash compartment. The only light came from the tiny bulb inside. He licked his lips and felt them grow cold in the freezing air. The windows began to fog from the heat of his breath.

  No one would know, he thought.

  He pictured Karissa’s face, and knew how hurt she would be if she found out he hadn’t upheld his part of the bargain, even though it had been a bargain she had forced upon him. He found it difficult to believe that quitting smoking would help them have a child—at least not on his part. Karissa’s quitting made sense, since her body carried a limited supply of eggs, but a man’s reproductive system was continually renewing itself. Smoking should make no difference.

  You said you would try, his conscience whispered.

  He sighed. “I’ll have a piece of candy instead. It worked yesterday.” He laughed, but the sound held no mirth. “At this rate, I’m going to gain weight.”

  He pulled out the bag of taffy, but the cigarettes on top came with it. His hand closed over them almost greedily.

  Throw them out, he told himself. Now, quick.

  But he couldn’t litter. Besides, that would mean good money going to waste. “I’ll just finish this pack,” he murmured. Then no more. I can do it. It’s not like I’m really addicted or anything. I can stop when I want to.”

  He felt relief at the decision and quickly started the Jeep. Not until he was moving again did he light up. He breathed the smoke in deeply, and gradually the jitters he had felt for the past day subsided.