by Paul Cwalina
“I’m sorry, but I was scared to tell you about one baby. I was afraid of what you would do or say about two.”
“Well, now you know,” I said. “I don’t think any man could be happier.”
I don’t know why, but that caused Jennifer to cry. I tried to comfort her and at first I thought she was overcome with the beauty of the moment. It wasn’t a joyous cry, though. She was pained by something.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her. She just shook her head and waved me off. She cried for a bit and then managed to say through tears, “I’ll tell you later.”
Cheryl did some more examination of Jennifer and the babies and told her about what to expect and what she should be doing. Jennifer asked a couple questions and then they wrapped up. As we were heading out the door, Cheryl said to Jennifer, “Why don’t you go ahead and see Sharon to set up your next appointment, okay?” Then she stepped in front of me, preventing me from leaving the room. She shut the door and told me to sit down.
“Sit down for a minute.”
I did and asked, “Is there something wrong?”
“Look, Jennifer is more than a patient of mine. She’s been a dear friend for more than a decade now. I care about her a great deal. I was there that night the two of you met. I was part of her divorce party at the Good Knight. I knew exactly what you were doing. I wanted to stop you, but I figured she’s a big girl and doesn’t need me meddling.”
“Yeah, I remember another woman trying to scare me away, too.”
Cheryl smiled. “Ashley, yes. She’s not a fan. Anyway, listen to me. A pregnant woman’s hormones can cause her to go to extremes or become moody...”
Gee...I hadn’t noticed.
She continued, “Her body is going to go through unimaginable change. And it’s all happening to take care of and deliver your children. She needs comforting and understanding. That cute little cocktail dress she was wearing the night you met? You may never see her in it again. You need to really think about that. Your life is about to change. For the sake of Jennifer and your children, you’re going to have to grow up really quick and be ready for the hard work. I’ve seen a hundred players like you come through these doors. They all put on a show like they’re happy about the woman having their baby, but when the work comes, they treat the woman like dirt and act like life’s not fair. Deep down they wish the woman had an abortion so they can just go on living their selfish lives and conquering more women and adding to their bedroom scores. I will not allow that to happen to Jennifer. She means too much to me.”
In a matter of a few seconds, this woman stripped me to my core. She punched me right between the eyes...and legs. She made me question everything that just happened. Just when you think you understand something, bam, you’re hit with the realization that there is another level of understanding.
I managed to say a weak, “I get it.”
“I hope you do,” she said, standing up. “It was a pleasure meeting you and I look forward to seeing you at the next appointment.”
“Thank you, doctor. Truly, thank you,” I humbly said and shook her hand.
As we were leaving the building, Jennifer asked why Cheryl wanted to talk to me.
“Let’s just say that she’s a very good friend of yours and you’re lucky to have her,” I said and left it at that.
Chapter Thirteen
When we got into the car I told Jennifer that I made an appointment to look at some office space. I couldn’t write from home—too many distractions. I need to go somewhere different to work. I told her I would drop her off, but she protested.
“I think we should spend the day together. I don’t mind going with you, if you don’t mind.”
I had no problem with it. We drove to the other side of Kingstowne and down a quiet, dead end street. This was the first of three appointments I had made, so I wasn’t committing to anything. This first one was a former apartment over someone’s garage. It wasn’t ideal, but it was cheaper than the other two, which were located in actual office buildings.
“We’re looking for house number twenty-six,” I said. “I have the odd numbers on this side, so it must be on yours.”
“Two more,” she said. We pulled into the concrete driveway of a small two-story home and parked behind a light blue Buick.
The driveway, yard, and exteriors of the house and detached garage were well-kept and clean. The yard’s grass was thick and green and its boundaries edged. There was a walkway between the house and driveway that ran the length of both and turned into a back porch. As we exited the car, an elderly gentleman came around the corner from the back porch and approached us. He looked to be in his late seventies, but moved like a man of fewer years. He wore simple brown pants and shoes and a light unzipped coat over a light sweater.
“You here about the office space?” he said, extending his hand.
“Yes,” I said, taking his hand and introducing myself.
“Walter,” he said.
“Good to meet you, Walter,” I said and motioned toward Jennifer. “And this is Jennifer.” They shook hands and exchanged hellos. All the while Walter had a look on his face and in his eyes that suggested that he recognized me. He knew who I was, but perhaps he didn’t want to embarrass me or make the situation awkward for whatever reason.
“This way,” he said and turned and guided us to an exterior wooden stairway on the side of the garage that lead up to the office. The door was situated almost exactly in the middle of what looked like a former apartment. To the left was a small living area with a window overlooking the driveway. Directly across from us was a small alcove with a window looking onto Walter’s backyard. A small kitchenette with a sink, small stove, small refrigerator and a counter that ran across most of the wall to our right. There was a doorway that led to a small bathroom and a small bedroom.
One of the first things Jennifer and I noticed was the number of nails still in the walls. There must have been fifty, arranged in squares and rectangles.
“I’m sorry,” Walter said. “I forgot to put the heat on before you came. It’s electric heat. Everything works. Tenant pays utilities.” Then he noticed Jennifer looking at the nails.
“Oh, yeah, sorry about all of those nails, too. My Emily was a painter. She used this as her studio.”
“Doesn’t she paint anymore?” I asked.
“If the good Lord allows painting in heaven, then I’m sure that’s what she’s doing,” Walter replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, as did Jennifer simultaneously.
“I lost her a few months back. We would have been married fifty-eight years next month,” he said, his eyes beginning to moisten. “We used to rent this space out as an apartment, but when Emily had enough of being a librarian at the high school, she retired and spent her days painting. It took me a while before I could bring myself to take them down off the walls..” He started to drift a bit into either a memory of his late wife or a wave of sadness before he shook it off and continued. “Anyway, there’s a bedroom in the back, there, but I guess you won’t be using that. Shower works just fine in that bathroom, although, I admit it’s pretty tight in there.”
“So you decided to rent it again?” Jennifer asked probing for something.
“Well, I hate to see the space go to waste,” he said unconvincingly.
“Walter, I’m going to need high-speed internet service. Would it be a problem to have that installed here?”
“High what?” he asked.
“Internet service. I would have to call the cable company and have them hook up a line and run some wires in here,” I said, sure that the request would cause him to refuse me as a tenant.
“Well, whatever you need, I guess. I don’t know anything about that. But if you need it, that’s okay.”
“Okay. And you’re asking four-hundred dollars a month?”
“Plus utilities,” he added.
“Yes, plus utilities.”
“But whatever you can spend on the rent would be
okay. I’m...” he said before cutting himself off.
“Okay, Walter. Well, thank you so much for your time. I’m scheduled to look at two other places on Monday, so maybe by Monday night I...”
“He’ll take it,” Jennifer said insistently.
Um...say what? I looked at Jennifer and she gave me a stern look with pursed lips.
“You will?” Walter said, his face lighting up.
“Well, I...”
“Yes, he’ll take it. Do you need a check today?” Jennifer interrupted again.
“Um, no. I’ll take a handshake if that’s okay with you.”
I looked at Jennifer and then shook his hand. “Sure. Fine. Can I start using it on Monday?”
“Sure,” he said and then led us out and down the stairs. As we walked toward my car, Walter said from behind us, “Say, do you like coffee?”
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“I have a coffee maker that I’ll put up there for you. What time do you think you’ll be getting here in the mornings?”
“Probably around seven-thirty.”
“All right, then. Can I ask you a favor? I have two sons. The closest one is a six hour drive away. The other one is in the Philippines. Since I lost Emily, well...I...uh...well, my biggest fear is that someday I’m going to die and end up being one of those people that they don’t find until weeks later and I don’t want to do that to anyone. So I’ll make coffee every morning and if you ever see that the coffee’s not made you’ll come check on me. Would that be okay with you?”
Jennifer and I just looked at each other. “Sure, Walter, but promise me you won’t die, okay?” I said, only half-jokingly.
“I’ll do my best,” he said.
We said our goodbyes and got into the car. As soon as I pulled out of the driveway, Jennifer said, “I can’t believe you weren’t going to rent his place. How could you even think of going somewhere else?”
“What are you talking about? It was the first place I saw. Don’t the other places deserve a shot?”
“Walter isn’t looking for a renter. He’s looking for someone to talk to. He’s lonely. He’s lost without his wife,” she said. “Didn’t you see that?”
“No. I saw an apartment,” I said, slightly irritated.
Jennifer shook her head. “You still have blinders on. You’re still focused on yourself.”
Whatever. “You don’t think it the least bit odd that the speeches for a major presidential candidate will originate from a studio apartment over a garage on a dead-end street in Boondocks, USA?”
“No, they’re originating from that head of yours, so it doesn’t matter where you’re sitting.”
Stop being right already. It’s maddening.
We went back to Jennifer’s place and spent the rest of the afternoon in deep conversation. It was the kind of talk that stripped two people to their bare souls, learning about each others’ pasts, successes, and failures, and their deepest, most private wishes. She revealed things to me that she said her ex-husband never knew and I told her things that would surprise Sarah. With every word from her lips I fell more for her and realized that we were really very similar, especially in areas that really counted. I learned more about Jennifer in that afternoon than I really knew about Sarah in all the years I had been with her. I found myself longing for Jennifer’s every next sentence. Very simply, I was falling in love with her, and all the way down desperately hoping that she was feeling the same way.
When we were somewhat spent, I asked her, “Tell me something. Why do you insist that I call you Jennifer?”
“That’s my name. That’s the name my mother and father gave me. That’s what is on my birth certificate. There’s a reason they wanted me to be called Jennifer. And that’s what they always called me.”
Just as with everything else, she remained firm and steadfast about something. There was no gray area.
“Okay,” I said, unsatisfied. “How about Jenny? Would that be okay?”
“Okay, but I will have to call you Forrest,” she said through a yawn.
“Forrest?”
“Gump. Try to keep up.”
I laughed. “Touche’.”
“Touche’,” she replied and put her head on my chest. “Now Jennifer needs a nap. I’ll make dinner for us when I wake up.” She was asleep very shortly after that. I desperately wanted to put my arm around her, but was afraid she wouldn’t want me to or that I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I laid my head on top of hers and drifted off.
We both must have been more tired than we realized because two hours passed before we woke up. I looked down and realized that at some point during our sleep I wrapped both my arms around Jennifer. She noticed, too.
“Hey, get those stinkin’ hands off me,” she joked.
“I’m sorry. It was while I was asleep. I didn’t even realize,” I said nervously.
She chuckled. “Relax. It’s okay. It felt nice,” she said. “I’m going to make dinner. Here’s the remote if you want to watch TV.”
I immediately turned on the television and tried to find any news about the Florida election. I grabbed my phone to find the latest Gallup numbers. A story came on about one of the candidates putting his foot in his mouth about Cuba. He said something close to what I had originally put into Rick’s speech. Had Rick not asked for the change, it could have been him getting skewered by the Cuban-American population in South Florida. His political instincts were sharp and it was abundantly evident in this case. How could this guy have lost Iowa and New Hampshire?
I felt good and switched over to watch a hockey game until Jennifer called me to the dining room about forty-five minutes later. I helped her set the table and bring in the meatloaf, baked potatoes, and a covered bowl that she said was the vegetable. We sat down and she prayed. Then she told me to take the cover off the bowl. I did and she said, “See? Jenny made Forrest some peas and carrots.” We both laughed and for a brief moment I saw Chelsea in Jennifer. “Well played,” I said. “Well played.”
“I saw the bag in the freezer and couldn’t resist,” she said.
We enjoyed the meal. Again, she had made such a delicious dinner and it was just one more nudge to my heart that this woman was truly someone special.
We cleared the table, leaving the rolls and butter there. She had coffee brewing. We each poured ourselves a cup and returned to the table. I took my first sip and leaned back in my chair. I just wanted to look at her the rest of the night. I would have been content just to do that— stare at her and burn the image of her face and smile permanently into my brain. But I remembered her telling me at breakfast the week prior that there was something that she really wanted or needed to tell me, so I asked her about it.
Her smile shrunk and then disappeared. She cast her eyes down toward the table and drew a deep breath. “Yeah,” she said heavily. “There’s something I really need to confess to you.”
“Confess?”
“Yes. I, um…boy, this is hard. Bear with me,”
“Take your time,” I said softly.
“It was a couple days before I found you in that restaurant. I, um..” she said and then blew out a mouthful of air. “I...please understand that I had no idea where you were...I didn’t think I would ever see you again...so, I went to that Planned Parenthood place on Riverview. They do abortions there...”
I just sat in stunned silence at the word ‘abortion’.