Designing Hearts

by Robin Strachan

  “I doubt that,” he said. “What else can I do? What do you want me to say?” He blew out a long, ragged breath.

  “There’s nothing else you can say or do. I want to move forward with the divorce,” she said as gently as possible. “This hasn’t been an easy decision, but I believe it’s for the best.”

  “How can you say that? How can divorce be in our best interest? Maybe you think it’s best for you, but you’re not thinking about me!”

  Jill rejected the first response that came to mind, choosing to take the high road. “Please listen, David. For me, it’s been a long time since we were close. Somewhere along the way—who knows when it started—we became strangers. You think and feel differently than I do about so many things. Our values haven’t changed together.”

  “We don’t have to think alike to be married, Jill. You could try to be more interested in what’s important to me. And I could make more of an effort to share what’s important.”

  She took a deep breath to avoid saying the next thing that automatically came to mind. He just didn’t get it. For her, marriage could not be all about him and his ideas. She wanted a romantic partner who valued her thoughts and ideas, who shared her deepest thoughts of what it meant to be a couple—closeness and compatibility, trust and shared experiences. Instead, she continued in a calm voice, taking time to choose her words carefully, “I’ve tried all these years, David, but it hasn’t brought us closer. Yes, it’s true that you were away from home a lot while you built your career, and you should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished. I am. But all those years of passing each other in the night—whenever you came home and we could steal a little time together—had an unfortunate effect. We lost what we had together, and now I can’t seem to get back what I once felt.”

  “It’s because you won’t try.”

  Jill breathed steadily in and out to keep her thoughts firmly grounded. “This isn’t about trying or giving up. It’s about having an authentic connection. We’ve spent so little time together that we’ve ended up on completely separate paths. We’re different people now, David, let’s face it. Yes, you had an affair, but that wasn’t the entire reason our marriage was in trouble. It was just the catalyst that finally brought things to a head and forced us—forced me—to look at reality. I probably knew on some level that we weren’t living the way married couples ought to live to be happy together. But I went along pretending, even to myself, that we had a good marriage. Unfortunately, that obviously wasn’t true.”

  “So it’s my fault. It always comes back to that.”

  “David, I’m not saying that. I’m talking about how I think a marriage can be. I can’t do this the way I did before. I’ve made my decision, and although this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, I can’t let you go on thinking there’s still a chance for us.”

  There was another long silence before he spoke. “I really blew it.”

  Jill had a strangely detached feeling, as though she were an observer rather than a participant in the moment. “Things happen. People change. We just grew apart. I don’t think it’s ever just one person who’s at fault, and I’m just as sorry for my part in that process.”

  “Jill, you did nothing wrong. It was my fault, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know.”

  Now she heard the choking sobs on the other end of the line. “David, I’ll always care for you, and I’ll always be grateful for the good years we had and the two amazing sons you gave me.”

  “We’re going to be grandparents now. How can I look at you holding that little baby and know what I did?”

  “Time will heal this for all of us.” She took a deep breath, feeling sad that his apology had come so late—a last-ditch effort to save their marriage when all else failed. She knew this deep down, but there was no rancor. In fact, the truth brought her a welcome feeling of peace. Now she felt his tears mirrored in her own eyes, and her throat tightened in compassion for them both and mourning for the end of their marriage.

  “I do love you, Jill.”

  “I’ll always love you, too, David. Let’s be good to each other, even if we’re no longer living together.”

  With no more to say except goodbye, she was relieved that the terrible words were finally spoken. Tucking the phone back in its cradle, she picked up her purse and coat and stepped into the hallway. Looking left and right and noticing that there was no one else in the hallway, she shut and locked her office door. “I won’t be back today,” she said to Monica as she approached her desk. “Would you tell Tom that I’ll be in tomorrow?”

  Monica looked up, and her eyes clouded over. “I think I can guess what happened. I’m sorry, Jill.”

  “Thanks. It’s okay, but please don’t say any more,” Jill said. “I don’t want to cry again—not here.” She coughed to clear the lump lodged in her throat. “Just tell Tom, okay? Tell him I’ll talk with him later.”

  She fled quickly before Monica could say anything else or insist on coming with her. Throwing open the exit door to the stairwell, she ran down the stairs to the parking garage entrance, praying that she wouldn’t see anyone she knew. Her heels rang out like hammer strikes on the cement as she hurried to her car. She threw her purse and briefcase into the back, climbed in and slammed the door. Feeling wooden inside, she started the engine with shaking fingers and then laid her head against the steering wheel. She wanted to cry, needed to cry, but couldn’t seem to muster any more tears. A strangled feeling rose up in her throat again as she fought to breathe. She thought screaming might be a relief, but decided against it. Just get out of here. Just breathe; you’ll be fine. Hands gripping the steering wheel, she backed the car out of the parking space and drove out of the parking garage. As she entered the on-ramp to the main highway, she realized she was heading straight for her parents’ home.

  Hal Brenneman answered the door, a look of delight in his crinkled eyes. “What a nice surprise. Nancy, Jill is here!”

  Jill stepped inside the foyer and right into her father’s arms. “Hi, Dad,” she said, her words muffled as she hid her face in his wool sweater. She took a deep breath of the familiar scent of spicy aftershave and cherry pipe tobacco. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She’s in the kitchen. Let’s go find her.” Hal put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder as they walked together.

  The smell of freshly baked bread drifted throughout the downstairs from the kitchen, where Nancy was preparing lunch. “What in the world?” Nancy asked, holding out both arms to Jill and drawing her close. “Isn’t this a work day?”

  Jill burst into tears. Between hiccupping sobs, she updated her parents on what had happened. “I told David I want to go through with the divorce. He took it so hard. I didn’t think it could feel worse, but this hurts even more.” Jill looked up in anguish. “Does that mean I’ve made a terrible mistake?”

  “I rather think it means you have a heart that’s breaking, Jill. It’s only natural for you to grieve like this, and you need to cry. You’ll feel better.” Nancy led Jill to a kitchen chair. “Let me get you a cup of cocoa with marshmallows, just the way you like it. I’ve got vegetable soup on the stove and bread just out of the oven. You can have some lunch and rest a little.”

  “Mom, I seriously doubt I can eat anything. I just needed to get away from the office for a while before I exploded.”

  “Well, we’re glad you came here. I’ll make you some cinnamon toast, too.” Nancy was already reaching into the dish cupboard to retrieve another place setting. “Hal, bring her a new box of tissues—the ones with aloe. Look at her poor nose.”

  When Jill arrived home late that afternoon, having been fed, soothed, and reassured by her parents, Denny was there, sitting in his truck in her driveway. Her heart skipped several beats when she saw him. She gave him a quick wave, opened the automatic garage door, and drove inside. She was glad that she had taken her mother’s advice and dabbed some coconut oil on her nose to relieve the chapped redness. She quickly checked her makeup in
the rearview mirror, fluffed her bangs, and pinched her cheeks to give them a little color. Denny held open the door when she stepped out of the car.

  “I’ve been wondering if everything was okay. It’s been almost two days since I’ve heard from you.”

  “Everything is fine … now,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Really, I’ve just had so much going on.”

  “You haven’t answered my last four texts or two voice messages. When I called the office, your assistant said you left suddenly and that I should call you on your cellphone, if it was about a work problem. She usually knows your schedule, so I asked her if you were going to a job site. Then she said you might not be available for a while.”

  Jill swallowed hard. She was riveted to the spot by those deep, brown eyes and the expressive mouth. She followed the contours of his face for a moment, studying them, memorizing them.

  “I’m sorry, Denny. You must think I’m behaving irresponsibly. Are there more issues with Mona? I didn’t think your calls or texts were work-related, and I’ve been dealing with some personal things.”

  “There are always going to be issues with Mona,” he said. “But no, everything is under control with the projects. That’s not why I’m here.” He jammed his hands inside his jacket pockets. “I was a tad concerned that either you were taking a leave of absence, from what Monica said, or worse, that you were avoiding me.”

  “No, nothing like that,” she said. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, but held back. He looked frustrated and so worried that she felt even worse for ignoring his texts and calls. “I do want to talk with you, and actually, I’m glad you stopped by.” She latched onto his jacket sleeve. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

  “All evidence to the contrary,” he said, but without a trace of anger. “Never mind. I can see something is troubling you.” He moved toward her, reached out and touched her cheek, then ran his thumb lightly across her lips. His touch left a vibration. Her mouth opened involuntarily, but no sound came out.

  “Jill?” His eyes narrowed in concern.

  “I’m just so ….” She paused and took a deep breath to steady herself. “It’s been a hard day.”

  His eyes, trained on hers, were piercing yet patient. “Why don’t we go in and sit down, and you can tell me about it. That is, if you want to.”

  “Of course I want to. You may not agree with what I did, though, or how I handled it. It doesn’t necessarily paint me in a good light.”

  Denny was silent a moment as if trying to think about how to phrase his next words. “In a painting, even the darkest shadow is just another form of light. The dark places in a scene are just as key to understanding what lies before us.”

  Jill turned to open the door to the kitchen, where she wearily dropped her handbag and briefcase on the table. “This morning, I told David I want to go through with the divorce.” Removing her coat, she hung it over a chair and braced herself against it for support. She couldn’t read his face.

  He raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip before saying, “I see. How did he take it?”

  “He got angry, at first. He tried to convince me that what I was doing wasn’t right. A lot of what he said, though, was about him. Then he cried and said he’s sorry about what happened. The thing is, Denny, I think he really is sorry.”

  Denny blew out a long breath. “That must’ve been terrible for you.”

  “It was worse than I could’ve imagined, but at the same time, I was relieved that the words were finally spoken. It’s over, and I can honestly say this is what’s best for me. But it’s true what David said: this may not be what’s best for him. I’m taking care of myself now, not doing what I think he wants or needs from me. The truth is, I can’t save him.”

  “This is unfamiliar behavior to you, Jill. But you’re the only one you can save.”

  Jill nodded. “And I really am sorry for not responding to your texts or messages. I couldn’t think clearly, and I wasn’t in the mood to hear about Mona. Sorry if I let you down.”

  He shrugged. “We’re a team on this project. I didn’t even bother going over there today because I thought we should talk first.”

  “You seem to handle Mona pretty well all by yourself. You don’t need me to help you.” There, she had said it. Once the words were out of her mouth, however, she regretted uttering something so petty. She had never admired jealous females and she cringed, realizing that’s what she was.

  “Jill.” He took a deep breath, but couldn’t hide his lopsided grin. He tossed his jacket onto a kitchen chair. “Do you honestly think there is something going on between Mona and me? Are you completely daft? I don’t care for Mona.”

  “She’s very attractive, Denny. You’re definitely lined up in her crosshairs.”

  A quick burst of laughter erupted from his lips. “The visual on that one is truly disturbing. I’ll not be caught by the likes of Dr. Mona Gagnon.”

  Jill remained motionless as Denny leaned in and drew her to him. She met his eyes, and he kissed her gently, lips lingering on hers for a few moments. “It’s not Mona I want. You’re the one I want. Let me make that clear now.”

  “Oh.” Jill’s lungs deflated as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. She had to take several deep breaths as stars came into view.

  Denny said nothing more for a moment, but his eyes never left hers. The house was so still, she could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. They stood that way for a few moments, taking in each other’s features.

  It was Jill who finally broke the silence. “I think I need to sit down.”

  Denny shifted from one foot to the other as she sank into a chair. “Maybe we should go have some dinner so we can really talk. You need to eat.”

  She sighed deeply. “Why is it that everyone thinks I need to be fed today, as if food will fix what’s missing in my life? It isn’t food I want or need. Denny, would you just take me far away from all of this?” Jill looked up at him beseechingly. “All day long, I’ve wanted to run somewhere, anywhere. I went to see my parents, but now, I don’t know where else to go. The only thing I do know is …”—she moved toward him and took his face in her hands—“you’re the only one I want to run away with.”

  His face registered surprise and then pleasure. “Okay. I guess we can make this up as we go along. Come with me.” He kissed her quickly, picked up his jacket, and held out his hand to her.

  Jill slung her coat over her shoulders, took her house keys and purse, and followed Denny through the garage to his truck. As he started the motor, she leaned back in the seat. “I meant what I said. Let’s just get away from my life.”

  “You can’t ever get that far away. Trust me on that.”

  “Well, I want to be someone else tonight.”

  “I’d rather you just be Jill.”

  He placed one hand protectively over hers and drove without speaking while they traveled out of town and onto a country road. They passed silent fields dusted with frost and bare sienna-colored tree limbs with hair-like twigs that reminded Jill of eyelashes against the dusky-blue sky. They slowed down just once for three deer that stepped out onto the highway from a grove of trees. Denny’s hand flew across Jill’s middle as he braked to a standstill, veering to the right. The deer stopped to look at them curiously, without fear. Jill smiled at their expressions, feeling the first calming effects of something suspiciously similar to contentment.

  “I have an idea. It still involves food, though,” Denny said. “Let’s go back to my place and I’ll cook you dinner—my own brand of comfort food. Don’t worry. It isna going to be haggis.”

  She smiled and took his warm hand, turning it over and running her fingers gently over the palm, tracing his lifeline. “Dinner sounds nice, and by the way, I’ve never tasted haggis. Maybe I’d like it.” The restless, anxious feeling was completely gone now. In this moment, there was no other feeling except joy at being with Denny.

  “I doubt it,” he said with a grin. “But,
anyway, haggis isn’t a thirty-minute meal, lass. Someday, I’ll make it for you from my maw’s recipe.”

  “And after dinner? What then?”

  “Whatever you want. This is your getaway. I’m just along for the adventure.”

  It was fully dark when they arrived at Denny’s home. He unlocked the front door and stepped back to let her enter first. On an end table, a Tiffany lamp shone in its rainbow of cut-glass colors like inviting ribbons of jeweled light. Denny took her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

  “This way, love,” he said and led her down the long hallway to the kitchen. “Sit down at the island and I’ll get you a glass of wine.”

  “Can I do something to help?”

  “Just sit there and be with me. Nothing else is required.” He pulled a bottle of white wine from the rack on the kitchen counter and uncorked it, poured a small amount into a glass, and tasted it. Then he poured two glasses of chardonnay and handed one to her. “To better days ahead,” he said as they touched glasses.

  Jill took a sip of the buttery, fruity wine. “Mm, this is just what I needed.”

  “I’ll make you my version of a classic dish: shrimp scampi over linguini.”

  “I’d love that.” Jill felt as light as a feather as she sipped her wine and watched Denny put water on to boil for pasta. He heated minced garlic in butter and olive oil, sliced fresh lemons, chopped parsley, and defrosted jumbo shrimp for the skillet.

  “We need a salad, too,” he said. “I’ve got a nice mixture of fresh greens and some home-grown herbs. The kitchen garden is still producing a few things.” He glanced up at her as he began tossing the salad. “Do you need anything else? More wine?”

  “I need nothing else at this moment.” And she meant it.

  When dinner was ready, they sat down together in the dining room. Denny placed a colorful salad in front of Jill and spooned shrimp scampi with garlic-butter sauce over linguine on her plate. He lit candles on the dining room table and sideboard before joining her.