Tomorrow and Always

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Just this pack, he thought. Then I’ll quit. No one will ever have to know.

  * * * * *

  Early Tuesday morning Brionney sat on the edge of the tub, facing in the direction of the toilet, just in case. Not for the first time she wished the guest bathroom was smaller, instead of half the size of their spacious bedroom. It took her three large steps to make it to the toilet in the corner. She’d counted them. So far, she’d made it every time. Her stomach moved uneasily, and she imagined she was on a ship in a stormy sea. She felt terrible, but knew the feeling would pass. Why couldn’t she remember how awful pregnancy was until it was upon her? If only she had remembered, she might have put it off a bit longer.

  Three children already, she thought. How on earth can I handle another? When Rosalie turned three, Brionney had felt ready, but now she was not so sure. The uncertainty triggered a mountain of guilt. The picture of Jesus on the wall next to the sink seemed to look down on her with knowing eyes. Can you help me? she pleaded silently.

  She studied the picture. Jesus was sitting on a rock, teaching a group of people. What is this picture doing here in the bathroom? Now that she thought about it, there were many pictures of Jesus in the house. In every room practically, except maybe the sitting room; she didn’t remember seeing one there. Maybe Karissa and Malcolm weren’t as far removed from religious matters as she had thought. Maybe she could somehow help them. She gave a long sigh.

  “Are you sure you want to stay here?” Jesse asked sympathetically, standing in front of the sink across the room. He’d been shaving when she barreled into the bathroom. Now he stood helplessly, the lather still covering most of his face, not knowing how to help her. “I mean, it might be too much work for you.”

  “I have to make dinner anyway, and with their cleaning lady, I won’t have to clean much.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Karissa. You said she was too cold.”

  She met his gaze. “I think I may have been wrong.” She held up her hand. “I know, I know. You always say that I judge too quickly, but in my experience, the worst generally is true.” Jesse frowned, but Brionney pretended not to notice. The wounds of her past were healed but not completely forgotten, despite her husband’s devotion. “I know it may seem strange,” she continued, “but I feel we should stay. And I really am beginning to like Karissa. She’s a nice person.”

  Jesse nodded and faced the mirror but turned again when a sob escaped her. He tossed his razor into the sink and crossed the space between them. “What’s wrong?”

  “I keep thinking about the gas.” She nearly choked on the words. “What if we lose this baby because of it?” She caressed her stomach. Already it seemed as if she could feel her child there, growing. Unbidden, the green plant container on her dresser came to mind. In it there was dirt, topped by two flat rocks—a remembrance she could not let go. Not yet.

  He sat next to her on the edge of the tub. “We’re not going to lose him.”

  “Him?” she asked.

  “Hey, it’s gotta happen sometime.”

  She smiled. “Maybe.” But her smile vanished as suddenly as it had come. “Sometimes I think I can’t handle any more children, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a another miscarriage. Then I feel like I would die if that were to happen. I just can’t face it! I love this baby already.”

  “It won’t happen. We won’t let it.” He caressed her neck and kissed her cheek. The white cream on his face rubbed off on to hers. “If you’re really worried, let’s have the doctor do an ultrasound. I can make an appointment when I go to the hospital today.”

  “Not yet. I’d rather wait until he suggests it. I don’t want to be chasing ghosts because of the last time.”

  “Then trust me. I have a feeling about this one. In less than seven months, we’ll be changing his diapers.” He paused to let the words sink in. “And just to show you how much I appreciate my first son, I’ll change all his diapers for two whole weeks. Except the six-wipe diapers. I can’t take those.”

  Brionney chuckled, and this time she felt happy. Jesse had always made her laugh. It was one of the reasons she’d married him. “I love you, Jesse Hergarter, but I’m holding you to that promise, including the six-wipe diapers.”

  He sighed. “You are so demanding.”

  “Get used to it.”

  He stood up to finish his shave. “Only seven more months to go.”

  Chapter Eight

  Karissa hummed as she arrived home from work on Friday evening. It was still light outside, and each day was getting lighter earlier as summer approached. The snow was nearly all melted now, and she could feel spring in the air. Of course, another snowstorm could delay spring, though not for long.

  She parked in the garage, noticing that the door to Malcolm’s studio was ajar. The spacious room in back of the house connected to the garage by a set of double doors that opened wide enough for his filming equipment. Karissa could hear giggles coming from the room.

  Her good mood evaporated. What were those girls up to now? Malcolm hated people in his studio when he wasn’t present. This could very well be the end to the Hergarters’ stay. Karissa couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or relieved. The week had passed smoothly without further incident, and the meals had been spectacular. She found she enjoyed having the children greet her as she came home, and Brionney was fast becoming like a sister. But there was another side as well. The Hergarters’ presence was a daily reminder of her barrenness.

  “That’s going to change,” she mumbled. Only today she had heard from the doctor.

  The laughter sounded again, and Karissa quickened her pace. Maybe she could get them out before Malcolm returned home.

  “Girls—” She broke off as she passed into the room. Malcolm was on the couch with Savannah and Rosalie beside him, their blonde heads pressed against his body. The dark-haired Camille sprawled on his lap. The group sat with stares fixed on the half-sized movie screen Malcolm used to view and edit his work.

  “Oh, look at that!” Camille said. Her brown eyes twinkled, seeming to emphasize the blue wash that made their color unique. “I love bears. I wish I could see one in real life.”

  “Hi,” Karissa said. She had the strange feeling that she was intruding.

  Malcolm scooted over and patted the seat beside Rosalie. “Come and watch. I saw a bear yesterday, and I filmed it for the girls. He’s a beauty.”

  “It looks so close.” The sheer power of the animal made Karissa nervous. She knew Malcolm had lenses that were able to take these pictures from a distance, but the reality was overwhelming.

  Rosalie snuggled up to her with wide eyes. “I’m scared,” she said, though she didn’t really act afraid.

  “Well, that’s it,” Malcolm said as the footage ended.

  “Can we see it again?” the girls chimed.

  “Later. Go see if you can help your mother with dinner. We’ll be right in.” Obediently, the girls scampered away.

  “I heard from the doctor,” Karissa said when the noise from the children had faded.

  He sat up straighter. “And?”

  She focused on the collection of pistols and rifles Malcolm kept on the far wall. The light reflected off the shiny bluing of the barrels. What was it with men and guns?

  “Well?” he pressed.

  She sighed. “Same as before. No reason why we can’t have children. He says we should keep track of my ovulation, and he recommended some new fertility pills.”

  Malcolm’s gray eyes bore into hers. “Maybe we should think about adopting.”

  Karissa stared toward the door where the girls had disappeared. There was a tenseness in her husband that she’d never noticed before. “Maybe,” she said. “But I really feel optimistic. I know it may sound silly, but since we quit smoking and started eating so many fruits and vegetables, my body seems stronger. Maybe this is working.”

  “You don’t find it hard not to smoke?”

  “Yeah, but I tell myself it’
s mostly psychological. That helps.” She didn’t add that for all the urges to smoke, she had even stronger feelings of relief. It wasn’t until she had quit that she realized how guilty she had felt each time she lit up. Now the guilt was gone, and for the first time since she started smoking, she was free.

  “I’ve talked to several of the doctors at work about it, too,” she added. “They’ve told me all about the psychological part. They’re very supportive.”

  “Sort of your own built-in set of shrinks, eh?”

  Karissa smiled. “Something like that. The worst for me is the coffee. I’ve discovered I’m not a morning person.”

  “I could have told you that.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Karissa laid her head on his shoulder. How long had it been since she’d felt so close to him? “I think it’s going to be okay,” she murmured. He smoothed her hair, sending a delicious chill down her spine.

  “Dinner!” Savannah’s high voice called from the door. “Daddy’s home and everything’s on the table.”

  Karissa bounced up from the couch. “Good, I’m starved.”

  “It goes with not smoking,” Malcolm said. “We’ll probably get fat.” An odd, sullen note in his voice made Karissa glance back at him. He smiled. “I’ll be right there. I just have to put away my equipment.”

  * * * * *

  Dinner was scarcely over when the doorbell rang. Karissa looked over the dish-covered table and met Malcolm’s eyes. He shrugged, indicating that he wasn’t expecting anyone. Their house was secluded, and visitors rarely popped in for a visit; if they weren’t home, it would be a waste of a long drive. She pushed back her chair, hearing it scrape against the ceramic tile, and went to the door.

  Delinda Goodrich smiled up at her from the porch. With her was her oldest daughter, whose name Karissa had forgotten. The young girl clutched a brown-wrapped package in her hand. Karissa already knew what was inside.

  “Hi, Karissa,” Delinda chirped brightly. She tossed her short red-brown hair as she spoke, and her heavy gold earrings sparkled in the evening light. In her fur coat, she reminded Karissa of the bear Malcolm had filmed. “We’re so glad to have caught you at home. May we come in for a minute? I promise we won’t stay long.”

  Karissa sighed and opened the door wider to allow her visiting teachers to come in. She didn’t lead the way to the sitting room, but stood back in the entryway, wondering how quickly she could get rid of them. Delinda and her daughter were nice, but Karissa wished they would stop interrupting her life.

  If Delinda noticed the lukewarm reception, she didn’t let on. She removed her heavy fur coat amidst a tinkling of gold bracelets and quickly hung it in the closet. Underneath the coat, the woman looked much less like a bear, though her hips in the tight skirt were still large with many years of childbearing.

  “May we sit?” Delinda asked. Her brown eyes met Karissa’s without blinking or embarrassment.

  “Sure. Come on.”

  Delinda followed Karissa into the sitting room, practically dragging her daughter along. The girl’s hand clung to the lapels of her jacket as if to save herself from drowning, her pale, watery blue eyes avoiding Karissa’s.

  Do I look that scary? Karissa thought, feeling sorry for her.

  Delinda plopped onto one end of the sofa Malcolm had made. She looked around the room appreciatively. “I love this room, ya know?” She reached out and grabbed hold of a wood bust on the table which depicted an old Aleut man. “I should start collecting stuff like this.”

  “I bought it for Malcolm,” Karissa said. “It’s made locally. You could probably find one.”

  “Maybe I will.” Delinda smiled. “The truth is, the instant I have any extra money, I spend it on jewelry.” She held up her arm and shook it dramatically. A small array of thin gold bands tinkled.

  Karissa had always been too busy trying to get rid of Delinda to find out much about her. In truth, the woman never stopped asking questions long enough for Karissa to do much but answer. It didn’t seem right that Delinda should be so concerned with Karissa’s life when Karissa didn’t really care about Delinda’s.

  “Why do you like jewelry so much?” she found herself asking.

  Delinda tugged on the thick gold rope around her neck. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it has something to do with how I was raised. My mother is a pretty woman, but she never cared much for jewelry or makeup. She’s kind of like granola, ya know? Wholesome but not head-turning like those elegant woman ya sometimes see. I wanted to be like that, and jewelry makes me feel that way.”

  Delinda did look more glamorous for the jewelry. “It becomes you,” Karissa said.

  “I like Grandma,” Delinda’s daughter said suddenly, darting a timid look at Karissa. She sat on the edge of the sofa gingerly, her body tucked in on itself. A nervous hand poked her long bright red hair behind her small ear, and her nose twitched as if the myriad of freckles on her face itched all at once.

  “Why, landsakes, June, so do I! We’re different, that’s all.”

  Karissa suspected that June was more like her granola grandmother than her gold-dripping mother.

  “Well, we just came to see what you was doing,” Delinda babbled on. “I talked to Sister Hergarter, and she said she thought you’d be home tonight.”

  Brionney! So that was why they were here. How dare she interfere! Maybe this would be a good excuse to terminate their arrangement. Of course, that would mean no more good meals.

  “Not that I told her I was coming,” Delinda added. “I just wanted to know if I could call you tonight. But when she said she thought you’d be home, I decided to drive up and see ya personally.”

  So you could get a hundred percent on your visiting teaching this month. Karissa bit her tongue to keep the words inside.

  “We brought ya this,” June said. Uncurling slightly, she leaned forward and shoved the package into Karissa’s unwilling hand.

  “How nice of you,” Karissa murmured, not meaning it. She already knew what was inside. Every month they somehow managed to catch her at home or at the office, and each time they brought her another picture.

  “I framed it myself,” Delinda said. That, too, Karissa already knew. Delinda and seven of her nine children ran a picture framing business from their home in Kodiak, while Delinda’s husband worked at one of the canneries.

  “Open it,” Delinda urged. Both visitors watched Karissa intently as she tore off the paper.

  This time the picture of Jesus had been sketched in black and white. The Savior had tears coming from His eyes, and blood oozed from His forehead where a crown of plaited thorns encircled His head. Karissa felt His sad eyes beckon to her. She knew her sin had caused part of His pain, and to her His eyes held not only sadness but reproach. She looked away quickly.

  “I love it.” To her chagrin, a tear escaped the corner of her eye and her voice felt scratchy.

  “I thought you could hang it in here,” Delinda said. “I framed it in that light oak so it would match.” The woman’s sharp eyes hadn’t misled her. The picture would go perfectly in the sitting room, as all the others hadn’t.

  “It will go great in here,” Karissa said. “Which is good, since I don’t have anyplace else to put it. The other pictures you’ve given me are hung in just about every room in the house, and of course there’s that one you put up in my office.” Her voice couldn’t hide the irony. In fact, the only place that didn’t sport one of Delinda’s pictures was their bedroom and the connecting bathroom. She had drawn the line at that. Malcolm’s studio had two pictures.

  Delinda shrugged. “Never enough pictures of our Savior,” she said. “But I chose this one because it goes with our lesson. The Savior died for our sins because He loves us so much. There is no sin His atonement can’t cover.”

  Delinda was wrong. Karissa knew there were some sins that were too serious, too horrifying for even the Savior to fix. Sighing inwardly, she steeled herself for the rest of the lesson.

  * *
* * *

  The next morning, Malcolm immersed himself in his studio. Karissa was in the greenhouse with the children, seeming happier than he had seen her for a long time. Maybe she was already expecting. Maybe now they would fill their house with love.

  Was that what was missing? He couldn’t understand how that could be the answer; he and Karissa loved each other. A baby would only cement their love.

  He smiled. Pregnancy was supposed to make women beautiful, and Karissa was certainly that, though he’d noticed that she did seem to be thinner than usual. Her collarbone stuck out more and the curves of her nose, chin, and cheeks were sharper. The shadowed hollows beneath her cheekbones had grown deeper, and her lithe figure had little of Brionney’s attractive womanly roundness. Not that he was comparing the two women. Karissa was his, and he liked her exactly the way she was. But he did worry about her health. Had stress caused her to lose weight?

  Habit drew him to the bottom drawer of the editing desk. In the back, behind a few rolls of blank film, he fingered the pack of unopened cigarettes. He’d stretched out the other pack, having only a few each day, but yesterday he had used the last one. When he’d gone to pick up the Friday paper, somehow this new pack had come with it. He couldn’t remember buying it, though he knew he had.

  He put the cigarettes back into the drawer, shut it, and tried to focus on his work.

  Then he pulled open the drawer and took the pack out again.

  And put it back without shutting the drawer. He stared at it for a long time, feeling a craving so large it filled his entire being.

  Finally he reached in, removed the cellophane from the cigarettes, and took out just one.

  Chapter Nine

  Saturday morning in late June came early. Warm sunlight reflected through the oversized windows and washed over the bedroom. Brionney stifled a yawn as she exchanged her bathrobe for a teal and white plaid top and matching solid teal stretch pants. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it being light so much of the time.”