The Words We Leave Unspoken

by L. D. Cedergreen

  We drive to the clinic and wait in the waiting room for nearly an hour while Max sleeps on my lap. His little fevered body heating me like a space heater as my anxiety swells and what little patience I have grows thinner by the minute.

  When a nurse finally calls Max’s name and we are led back into an exam room, Max wakes up and starts to vomit again, although hardly anything is coming up. Poor little thing, I think to myself as we settle into the exam room and he falls limp in my lap again. As the nurse takes Max’s blood pressure and checks his temperature, I am trying hard to stay calm but inside I’m freaking out, worried sick about Max and what Gwen is going to think. The nurse leaves the three of us alone in the quiet room, waiting for the doctor. I hold Max in my lap while Olivia silently reads her book and with nothing else to do, I watch the minutes tick by on the clock.

  After what seems like an eternity, the exam room door opens and I look up, slammed hard with recognition as I stare into the piercing, transparent eyes of someone I haven’t seen in years. I know him though, those brooding blue eyes full of mystery that dare to draw you in. And I also know that when he laughs, gone is the mystery and like a window to his soul, those eyes let you in and swallow you whole. Snapshots of my youth flash through my mind, one at a time, as I see the girl that I once was, falling for a boy with complete and reckless abandon. My heart begins to drum in my chest as I take in his face. He still looks young and kind, like the boy next door that I remember. Like the boy that I once loved. It’s like staring into the face of a ghost, one that has haunted me over the years.

  “Ben,” I whisper, completely shocked and blindsided. My eyes leave his to glance at his name badge that hangs from the chest pocket of his dark blue scrub top. Benjamin Roth, M.D. As if there was any doubt, his badge confirms it. For a moment, sick little Max lies in my lap forgotten, as our eyes find each other again. He tilts his head to the side and his eyes bore into mine as if he can see straight through me.

  “Wow. Charley?” he says as a question, as if he doesn’t believe it’s really me. Searing heat flushes my cheeks at the wonder in his voice and it’s like time stills, barring the steady beat of the drum in my chest.

  And then Max moans and we are both pulled from the moment, focusing on the patient. Ben goes into doctor mode.

  “Hey buddy. Let’s get you up on the exam table,” he says as he washes his hands in the small sink in the corner of the room. I glance at Olivia. Her book is resting face down on her lap and for the first time, she looks worried about Max. I reach over and pat her leg, flashing her the most reassuring smile I can muster when she looks up at me.

  I stand with Max in my arms and lie him down on his back on the exam table, straining under his dead weight.

  “Max, can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks as if he’s known Max his whole life.

  Max only moans and so I find my voice, “He’s been throwing up for a few hours and now he’s burning up. I was afraid that he might have appendicitis or something—” I ramble when I’m nervous and Ben interrupts me.

  “Let me do a quick exam and we’ll see what’s going on, okay,” he says to me calmly.

  I nod and sit back down in the chair next to Olivia.

  Ben pokes around on Max’s abdomen, listens to his chest and back with his stethoscope, and checks his neck and inside his throat.

  “Well, he seems fine. I think we’re looking at the stomach flu. He needs to rest and make sure he gets plenty of fluids. He’s really dehydrated. I’d give him IV fluids but I don’t want to traumatize him with needles if it’s not necessary. He should be fine in twenty-four hours, but if not just call me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, and when I reach for it our hands slightly touch and I flinch. He writes a few things down on Max’s chart and I suddenly feel nervous about taking Max home.

  “His mom’s away until tomorrow. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do,” I admit as I stare at Ben’s name in embossed print on the thick white card in my hand.

  “There’s not much to do really. But I’ll write down a few things for you, like something for his fever and what type of fluids to give him,” Ben says as he takes out a prescription pad and jots a few things down. He hands me that as well and I avoid his hand like the plague.

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling sheepish as I slip both his card and the prescription in the back pocket of my jeans.

  “No problem. I take it you don’t have kids of your own?” he asks with a small smile splayed on his lips.

  I shake my head, staring into his eyes, trying to wrap my mind around this bizarre, coincidental moment. Ben. Here in this room. After all these years.

  After a long, drawn-out beat of silence, Ben turns toward Max. “Okay buddy. You’re going to be good as new in a few hours.” Ben helps Max sit up and then starts to leave the room. He stops in the doorway and turns around, resting his hand on the doorframe.

  “It’s good to see you Charley,” he says, looking deep into my eyes. He hesitates, tapping his fingers twice on the doorframe and then walks away. I stare at the space that Ben just vacated and take a deep breath. It feels like my first real breath since Ben walked into the room. My mind is swirling with questions and all the things that I wish I would’ve said.

  “Can we go home now?” Olivia says, bringing me back to the here and now.

  “Yeah,” I mutter, still dazed as I grab Max’s jacket off the chair and pull his arms through the sleeves one at a time.

  “You’re lucky Dr. Roth was here. Mom doesn’t like the other doctor,” Olivia says nonchalantly, but her words hit me in the gut as confusion settles in.

  “You know Dr. Roth?” I ask, turning to look at her.

  She shrugs. “Yeah, he’s our doctor,” she says so matter-of-factly, as if everyone should know this fact. Except I don’t. Anger flares at the realization that Ben is Max and Olivia’s doctor and Gwen has never mentioned it to me. I push all the questions running through my mind aside, hand Olivia the trashcan we brought from home and take Max into my arms. I need to focus on my nephew right now.

  Chapter 11

  Gwen

  The sky grows darker and darker while John and I enjoy a quiet seafood lunch where we share a bottle of white wine and talk about how nice it is to get away. We agree that we should do this more often. Especially now that the kids are older. For two years, Max had the worst case of separation anxiety and I refused to leave him with anyone but John. I could never enjoy myself knowing that he was home sobbing, desperately needing me. He’s moved past that phase, thank God, but I still don’t feel comfortable being away from the kids for long.

  After lunch, John and I browse the shops that line the cobble streets of the island village. We buy little gifts for the kids and a few knickknacks for the fireplace mantel. As we stroll along the vacant streets, laughing with mild intoxication, John holds my hand, interlacing our fingers like a young couple madly in love. Like a couple who hasn’t been married for over a decade, worn out from two children that consume every minute of their day. Like a couple whose lives are not about to be torn apart by cancer. I squeeze John’s hand a little tighter, holding on to this moment for as long as I can, my mind snapping a photograph that I can store away for a rainy day when I need to remember this moment, a before moment.

  It starts to rain, big heavy drops, the dark sky finally unleashing the fury that it has threatened all day. The water gushes at our feet and the sound of the rain fills the once quiet street like the roar of an awe-inspiring waterfall. We run like school kids back to the bed and breakfast, straight to our cozy room, where we strip off our wet clothes and make love in front of a warm fire. And I think, I remember this, this passion. How could I forget? And when I am overcome with my release, my toes curling and my heart nearly pounding out of my chest, I’m hit with a wave of emotions. Overwhelmed to the point of tears, I bury my face in John’s chest while he shudders his own release. When his breath evens out, he pulls back and looks deep into my eyes, st
irring up feelings of guilt once again.

  “Sometimes I love you so much that I can’t breathe,” he whispers, as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, a gesture that conjures so many emotions within me. A stray tear slowly trickles down my cheek. And all I can think of is the unfairness of it all. I am so happy. My life is perfect in so many ways. I have survived so much already. Why can’t I just have this one thing? Is it too much to ask?

  And as if reading my mind, John says, “Sometimes I’m so happy that I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like a person can’t possibly deserve this much happiness, ya know?” He gently wipes away my tear with the pad of his thumb and I suddenly can’t breathe. I stare at him so intently, it’s like I’m willing him to hear my thoughts so that I don’t have to say the words aloud. And in the same moment, I know that I can’t say the words aloud. I love him so much that I can’t break his heart. I can’t take this moment from him. I would do anything to protect him from this pain.

  I close my eyes, breaking the laser focus of our gaze and whisper, “I love you too, John. So much.” I kiss him on the lips, pushing it all aside and think, Later. I’ll tell him later. And then I take a breath. Because that’s all I can do for now.

  Chapter 12

  Charley

  Both kids are in bed asleep, finally, and I lay quietly on the floor in Max’s room. I’m afraid that he might need me and I won’t hear him. He had a few more vomiting episodes but I feel like we have seen the worst of it. Even his fever has receded. I stare up at his ceiling where fifty or more glow-in-the-dark star stickers shine above. If I stare long enough, they almost look real.

  I can’t erase the image of Ben from my mind. He looked so good. His dark hair was shaved close to his scalp, accentuating the muscles along his jawline and neck. And those blue eyes, almost transparent, that can pin you in place with one look. He hadn’t changed a bit and yet there was something more seasoned about him, the way he held his shoulders, the depth to his gaze. He had been more of a boy when I saw him last, at our high school graduation nearly twelve years ago, and now he’s every bit a man. I hadn’t known he was back in Seaport, never mind that he’s Max and Olivia’s pediatrician.

  I think back to what happened all those years ago, the events that spiraled out of control until I was left completely broken. It was my own undoing though, as if I had broken my own heart when all I really wanted was to protect myself from that very thing. Looking back, I see how fragile I was. How the slightest sense of insecurity or distress could break me. But I knew what was coming then, I knew that Ben was leaving. It had to end at some point. But, still, I can’t help but think of how things could’ve been, if I had been stronger. If I had been strong enough to love him. How it could have been, if it would have worked out the way we had planned.

  I close my eyes and push the images away, reminding myself that nothing works out the way you plan. It was all for the best. I tell myself this as my heart clenches around what is buried deep inside, the regret and the guilt of what I did. How I pushed Ben away and then immediately wanted to take it all back. But it had been too late. It was too late. What’s done is done.

  I wake with a start, the glow-in-the-dark stars barely visible. Nausea steamrolls me and I leap up, making a dash for the hall bathroom. I hunch over the cold toilet bowl as my stomach unloads. My head feels as if someone split it down the middle with an ax. I can’t remember the last time I felt this sick. I cough and sputter before rinsing my mouth in the sink and slinking down the wall until I’m sitting on the bathroom floor with my arms wrapped around my bent knees. I rest my forehead on my knees when the shaking begins.

  Ugh. Max’s flu. Thanks Max. The cycle continues as dawn comes and goes. Max wakes up feeling good as new, shedding a small measure of light on my situation. Barely able to stand upright, I set Max and Olivia up in the family room downstairs with a movie, a handful of granola bars, and juice before I hunker down in the bathroom just off the entryway, held prisoner for hours by this stinking flu. My only hope is that John and Gwen are home soon.

  I hear the doorbell ring, which I plan to ignore, but I hear Olivia call out, “Who is it?” I try to tell her not to open the door, but my words come out only a hoarse whisper.

  “It’s Doctor Roth,” I hear Ben say. My only thought, Oh, God, not now. How mortifying. I look and feel like death. And even more horrifying, I hear the bolt lock slide open as Olivia opens the door and lets him in. I sit stone still in the bathroom, eavesdropping on their conversation, wondering what he’s doing here and hoping that he leaves before he discovers me in the bathroom.

  “Where’s your Aunt Charley?” I hear him ask.

  “She’s in there. She’s sick now too.”

  “I thought that might be the case. Where’s Max?”

  “We’re watching a movie.”

  “How’s Max feeling this morning?”

  “I think he’s better.”

  “How about you? How are you feeling?”

  “I feel fine, I guess.”

  Their voices fade as they move further into the house. Great. No chance of him going away anytime soon.

  A few minutes later, I hear a knock on the bathroom door. I moan.

  “Charley, you okay in there?” Ben asks.

  “Yeah. What are you doing here, Ben?” I groan. I’m on my knees with my cheek resting on the cold toilet seat, my arms literally hugging the porcelain bowl.

  “I came to check on you. I had a feeling you were next. I brought you some Gatorade and crackers and breakfast for the kids.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you. We’ll be fine.” I wipe my nose and eyes on my shirt sleeve and lay my cheek back down against the cold.

  “I’m coming in, Charley.”

  I abruptly sit up, my head spinning from the sudden movement. “No, don’t come in,” I call out, but he’s already stepping inside the small bathroom. His presence filling the cramped space until I feel like I can’t breathe. I bury my face in my hands and mumble, “Seriously, this is so embarrassing, Ben.”

  He kneels down next to me and I can smell his masculine scent. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse, trust me.”

  I peek out between my fingers to see him smiling.

  “But really Charley, are you okay?” he asks with tenderness in his tone.

  “I’ve felt better. I didn’t realize that doctors made house calls anymore.”

  “Well, only for you.” His words reach me somewhere deep inside but I push them away.

  “I’m taking you to bed,” he says while reaching his arm around my shoulders and gently helping me to my feet.

  “Confident much,” I mumble but too tired to fight him, I lean my weight into him, feeling so weak and dizzy that I’m afraid I might pass out.

  “Stop it. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. I know what you mean,” I whisper. And then I direct him to the guest bedroom across the hall, where he pulls back the bedding and tucks me in. He leaves me in bed, in the dark, my body shaking in spasms before returning a few minutes later with a bottle of Gatorade and a plate of crackers.

  “Do you mind if I stay and hang out with Max and Olivia so you can rest?” he asks quietly.

  “Be my guest,” I reply, suddenly feeling so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. He starts for the door when I am barely still conscious, but I still feel his hand as it threads through my tangled hair and his finger as it trails down my cheek. I hear his breath release as he sighs. And before I have time to process it or sift through the emotions his tenderness evokes, I am gone, held captive by sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Gwen

  John turns the car off after parking in the garage and we both sit in silence. “Re-entry,” as we like to call it, is hard after a weekend away and we both savor our last moment of peace and quiet. The entire drive from the ferry I was focused on the failure of my mission. The sole purpose of the weekend alone that I had planned. I didn’t te
ll him. Instead, the weekend evolved into something magical. A reconnection that I hadn’t even realized we’d needed until there it was, all around us, pulling us closer together. And maybe we needed this weekend to be about us; maybe we needed this weekend before I tell him. At least that’s what I’m telling myself now, desperately trying to justify my dishonesty, my failure to confide in my husband. The worst part is that I have to face Charley. The one person who knows the truth.

  John leans over and kisses me on the cheek, and I turn toward him, kissing him on the mouth.

  “What a great night away,” he says and then leans back in his seat with a heavy sigh. “Think they’ll notice if we hide out in here for a bit longer,” he asks.

  I smile, picturing us making out in the car like teenagers, hiding from our children.

  “I miss them, I do. But why is it so hard to go back in there?” I ask, turning to John for an answer.

  He only laughs and says, “Because it’s a jungle in there. The kids are probably fighting and you know the house is a mess.”

  “Oh for sure the house is a mess,” I agree. We both laugh.

  “And because once you walk in that door, you become their mom again, instead of my beautiful, incredibly sexy wife,” he says tenderly as he lifts my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there as he looks into my eyes.

  “Careful John,” I chide. “Am I not always beautiful and sexy?”

  “You are. But can you blame me for wanting you all to myself a little bit longer?” His sulking eyes warm me and make me smile, reminding me of how much I love him.

  “I suppose not,” I tease and then more solemnly I add, “I love you, John.”

  “I love you too, Gwen,” he says and kisses me on the forehead.

  I sigh. “Let’s do this.”

  We walk into the house, calling out for Olivia and Max when we are met with silence. And as we move through the kitchen, approaching the family room, we finally hear quiet voices.