Holding On (3 page)

Marienne handed him a glass of water. He watched as she opened the cupboard. Her silky brown hair was swept into a messy ponytail, strands working their way loose to frame her delicate profile. “Tylenol or Advil?” she asked, hand poised to pick up either.

“You’re beautiful.”

She narrowed her large, dark eyes. “You’re delirious.”

“Possibly. But I’m still right.”

She rolled her eyes then took down the Tylenol bottle. “You’re taking these then you’re going to bed.”

****

Marienne gave the sauce another quick stir then put a pot of water up to boil.
Poor Daniel.
She wanted to take care of him, but knew he wouldn’t let her get near him. He’d always been protective, but never more so than now. He tried to hide it, but she knew he worried about the baby.

She rooted through the freezer, moving aside bagels and popsicles until she found a Tupperware of homemade chicken soup. She loosened the lid and placed it in the microwave, setting it to defrost.

The gas stove ticked as she turned the burner on under the teakettle.
Soup and tea. Maybe that will help.
She tried to think of what his mother might have done when he was sick as a boy.

Marienne’s own mother had been anything but nurturing. When Marienne or her sister got sick their mother avoided them, calling them germ factories. According to Daniel his mother had been the opposite. She’d raised Daniel all by herself—he’d never even met his father. He’d told Marienne stories about how his mum would read to him every night and how she’d baked him his favorite cookies when he was home with chicken pox. She’d taken wonderful care of him, until she’d gotten sick herself when he was fifteen. In the span of a few months the roles had reversed and he’d become her caretaker, then within a year she was gone.

It hurt Marienne to think about Daniel as a grieving teenage boy, sent from his childhood home in Oxford to live in New Jersey with his mother’s best friend, Anne. She’d met Anne and her husband a few times. They were lovely people, but Anne was not the motherly type. They’d taken Daniel in without hesitation, but she knew it had never felt like home for him.

Marienne could smell that the chicken soup was ready. She popped the microwave door open and reached in to extract the steaming bowl. The teakettle started to hiss, and she turned the flame off before the piercing whistle sounded.
Toast. That’s what’s missing.

****

Daniel wanted to flop onto their bed face first and go straight to sleep, but he plodded into the guest room instead, pushing the throw pillows and comforter onto the floor before he crawled beneath the blanket. He shifted his weight, attempting to get comfortable. His head was pounding and he was hot and cold at the same time.
Here I am worrying about Marienne
catching one of Ella’s colds, and I bring home the bloody plague.
He pressed his face into the pillow, trying to stop the pulsating pain behind his left eye.

He tried to fall asleep, but his mind wandered. Sleep had not been coming easily.
That’s probably why I got sick.
The aroma of bread toasting wafted up the stairs.
Everything in this house smells good.

He heard Marienne climb the stairs and head down the hall toward their bedroom. “Daniel?”

“I’m in here,” he called, his voice cracking.
Great, now it hurts to speak.

Marienne appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray. “What are you doing in the guest room?”

“Why are you carrying the kitchen?” He bounded out of bed to take the tray from her but he stood up too fast and nearly toppled over, instantly lightheaded. “Whoa.”

“Sit down.”

He slumped onto the bed.

“Get under the covers.”

“You’re so bossy.”

Marienne slid the tray onto the dresser alongside the bed. “Have some soup, it’s good for you.”

He was about to say yes, but the doorbell interrupted.

“That must be Lynn dropping Ella off from her play date. Do you need anything else?” Her eyes searched his.

He shook his head. “I have everything.”

****

Daniel awoke sweaty and chilled. The sunlight filtering through the curtains made his eyes sting. He groaned and rolled over, covering his face with the blankets.

He heard Marienne talking to Ella in the foyer. “Get your backpack, sweetie. You don’t want to be late today.”

“I don’t wanna go.” Ella sounded on the verge of tears.

Daniel pulled the covers off and lifted his head to try to hear better, but the room spun and he collapsed back onto the pillow.

“What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?”

“No.”

“I thought you were looking forward to doing the dress rehearsal for your play. The show’s tonight, aren’t you excited?”

“Daddy can’t come.”

Daniel could hear her sniffling and the sound broke his heart.
Oh God, I’m going to miss it.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll videotape the whole thing.”

“It’s not the same.”

Daniel wondered what the odds were that he could make a recovery in the next eight hours.

“I know, but he’ll still get to see your performance, and you can watch it with him. It’ll be fun. I promise. I’ll make popcorn and everything.”

She’s such a good mum. And I’m a crap father.

****

Marienne stopped at the grocery store to buy carrots and chicken. She wanted to make Daniel a fresh pot of soup. While she was out, she picked up pink glitter sugar, so she could make some cupcakes to celebrate Ella’s debut.

When she arrived home, she was surprised to see Daniel in the kitchen. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m feeling much better,” he croaked, dunking a tea bag up and down in a mug.

“Sit down before you fall over. Look at you. You’re a walking disaster.” He was pale as a ghost except for dark circles beneath his eyes, yet he still managed to look handsome. “Have you slept at all?”

“Some.”

Liar.
“You need your rest. Please go back up to bed.”

“I thought if I had some tea and walked around a bit maybe I’d be able to go to the play tonight.”

He sounded like Ella—sweet, but making very little sense. “You can’t go to the play with a fever.” She touched her hand to his head. “Which you clearly still have. It won’t be good for you, and you don’t want to be responsible for giving a whole group of preschoolers and their parents the flu.”

Daniel slumped into a kitchen chair, looking miserable. “You’re right. I just feel awful that I can’t go.”

“I know. But Ella will understand.”

“She’ll understand that her daddy missed her big night on stage.”

Marienne ran her fingers through his hair, wishing she could do something to make him feel better. “There will be lots of other plays.”

“Yes, but no other first plays.”

Later that night, after Marienne and Ella were fast asleep, Daniel lay awake in bed. He crept downstairs to his study. He couldn’t concentrate on grading essays. His novel simply wasn’t working. Every time he tried to write, his mind drifted back to the pregnancy.
What if Marienne has problems again? What if something goes wrong with the baby? What if she needs me and I can’t get to her in time?
There were so many things that were beyond his control. The thoughts overwhelmed him.

To make matters worse, ever since he’d found out about the baby the one person he wanted to tell was his mother, and he couldn’t. He’d felt the same way when he’d earned his Ph.D., when he’d gotten married, each milestone marking her absence. This one seemed bigger than all the others. As much as he already felt like Ella’s father, this was different. This time he was the father from the very start.
What if I’m not good at it?
He’d never had a father of his own. The closest he’d come to a male role model was his graduate advisor, Arnold Jenkins.

Daniel consoled himself with the thought that all men worried about one thing or another when they were expecting a child. He tried to clear his head then decided to stop fighting his own thoughts. He opened a new document and began to type.

Chapter Three

Marienne leaned over the bathroom sink to splash water on her face. Her belly bumped against the cool edge of the tile. She smiled, scrubbing face wash onto her forehead.
Pretty soon I’ll have to stand a foot away from the sink. I’m getting round much faster this time.
She bent closer to the sink, feeling water run down to her elbows as she rinsed. She glanced up into the mirror and saw Daniel staring at her reflection as he brushed his teeth.

He gave her a toothpasty grin and spit into his sink, his eyes returning to her mirror image.

She turned the water off and reached for a towel. “Are you staring at my boobs in the mirror?”

Daniel’s grin became even broader. “It’s hard not to. They’re magnificent.”

Marienne looked down and laughed. She was practically bursting out of her bra. “It’s just the pregnancy, you know. They’ll go back down after.”

“I know, I remember from last time. Though your version of down is still pretty fantastic.”

Marienne paused, mascara wand mid air. “You remember from last time?”

He wiped his mouth on his towel, revealing an impish smile. “Vividly.”

Marienne was surprised. When she was pregnant with Ella, she had no idea Daniel had ever thought of her that way. “I didn’t know you noticed.”

Daniel stepped behind her, slipping his arms around her. “Where your breasts are concerned you should go on the assumption that all men notice.” He cupped his hands beneath them and kissed her neck.

She could feel him hard against her butt. She leaned back into him. “Mmmm, it feels good when you hold them up. They’re getting heavy. It makes my upper back ache.” She rubbed her shoulders against his chest.

“Well I’d be happy to walk around behind you all day, holding them. I wonder if I could pass that off as part of the Family Medical Leave act. Should certainly count as personal time. It would be difficult to do while driving….”

Marienne turned in his arms. Her belly grazed against him, separating them. He moved his hands to what was left of her waist, his thumbs caressing the sides of her bulging tummy. His face bent to hers. His lips were cool and minty. He trailed his nose down her neck, his silky hair tickling her breasts as he kissed his way down to her pregnant bump. Just as his mouth pressed against her tummy, the baby kicked.

“Oh my God.” Daniel straightened up, his eyes full of wonder. His hand went to the spot where his lips had been. The baby fluttered again. “Is that?”

Marienne nodded. She placed her hand on top of his, holding it tighter to her. She felt the baby shift again then settle.

“Did you feel Ella move this early?”

“Yes, but not so much. This one’s been at it since I got up to pee at five o’clock. Until you woke up, then I guess it was naptime. I’m so glad you felt it.”

Daniel smoothed his hand over her belly. “Have I mentioned how happy you make me?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“I’m….” He paused. “You know, I don’t think words can do this justice.”

“
You
are at a loss for words?”

“I’m afraid so.” His arms enveloped her as his hands slid over her back. “But you know what they recommend….”

“What’s that?” She felt his fingers sink into her hair as his face moved closer to hers.

“Show, don’t tell.”

****

Marienne set the teakettle on the stove and turned on the flame. Lynn had called saying she needed girl talk and asking for an emergency play date for Rebecca and Ella. Now Lynn was sitting at the kitchen table, folding her napkin into an accordion. “What kind of tea do you want? Earl grey? Chamomile? English breakfast?”

“Anything decaf, I’m already tense enough.” She unfolded the napkin and smoothed it with her hand.

Daniel had taken Ella and Rebecca upstairs to get them settled with a DVD so Lynn and Marienne could talk without their little ears picking up every word.

Marienne carried a plate of oatmeal cookies to the table and sat down. “What’s got you so upset?”

Lynn looked as if she might burst into tears. “How did you know when Frank was cheating on you? I hope that’s not a horrible thing to ask.”

Marienne sighed. “It’s not. And I didn’t. I mean I had suspicions but I didn’t find out for sure until after he’d died.”

“I’m sorry.” Lynn put her hand on Marienne’s. “Do you not want to talk about this? I’m being too nosy.”

“No, it’s okay. It seems like a lifetime ago.”
More than that.
She felt like she’d been with Daniel forever. She took a deep breath. “There were tons of warning signs. He was never home. Always had a reason for working late or staying over in the city. Hardly wanted anything to do with me from the moment I got pregnant. Certainly didn’t want anything to do with Ella when she was a baby.”

“So you knew but you never said anything?” Lynn nibbled a cookie.