The Marriage Wish (7 page)

“Jennifer.” At the broken tone in her brother’s voice, Jenni
fer looked up. She set down the spatula. “What’s wrong, Peter?” she asked, fear gripping her heart.

“It’s Jerry.”

She leaned against the counter for support, burning her finger when it pressed against the cookie sheet.

“He had a heart attack, Jennifer.”

The past tense didn’t make any sense.

“He’s dead, Jennifer.” The blank whiteness on her brother’s face told her of his own shock.

He couldn’t be talking about her Jerry. They had tickets to a concert tonight. “Which hospital are they taking him to? I’ve got to get there.” Jennifer pulled over her purse. “Memorial? Lake Forest? Condell? Where are my car keys? I need my car keys.”

Her brother gripped her shoulders. “Jennifer, there were two doctors there when he collapsed. There was nothing that could be done. Jerry collapsed as we were walking down the hall to the locker rooms to get ready for our racquetball game. He suffered a massive heart attack. He died instantly.”

His words began to sink in. A sob ripped through her. “Don’t say that. Which hospital is he at?”

Peter shook her slightly, his own fear making his eyes almost black. “Heather is on her way. So is Pastor Kline. Don’t go to pieces on me, Jennifer. Think about Colleen.”

“God, you can’t do this!” The cry came from the back of her throat.

Peter held her tightly. “Jerry loved you. Don’t forget that honey.”

“Then how can he just leave?” Jennifer practically screamed. “If he loves me, he wouldn’t leave. He didn’t say goodbye, Peter.” Her voice dropped to a whimper. “He didn’t say goodbye.”

The tears began to flow unchecked. “Peter, he won’t get to see Colleen. What is my little girl going to do without a father?”
The agony inside brought sobs to tear at her heart. “She won’t get to grow up around her father. More than anything in the world, Jerry wanted to rock his baby girl to sleep in that rocking chair he bought.”

Peter’s tears silently matched hers. “I know, Jennifer. I know.”

Jennifer told Scott some of the story. What she could put into words without breaking into tears.

Tell him about Colleen.
The desire was there, but not the courage. She would not be able to control the tears, and she did not want to cry in front of this man, not tonight.

“I felt…
numb
I guess is the best word. There were lots of people here that night. My brother and his wife. Friends from the church Jerry and I attended. Beth and her husband Les arrived late that night. I was tired by the time that evening came, it didn’t really sink in that Jerry was not coming home.”

Jennifer watched her finger trace along Scott’s arm following the pattern in his shirt. “Peter took care of the arrangements for me. He had gone through the details only the year before when our parents were killed.”

Scott carefully brushed away the hair from her face. “When did it begin to hit you, Jennifer, that Jerry was not coming back?”

“When I saw him in that casket.” Her voice broke. “We went early to have a private visitation before people began to come. It was the first time I had seen him since the morning when he left.” Jennifer wasn’t brave enough to tell him the rest.
The last thing he said to me was “Take care of Colleen.” And he kissed me. Then he left with Peter.

She drew in a deep breath. “The funeral was rough. By that time I was exhausted, going through the motions. But not much of it really touched me. I don’t remember what the funeral service itself was like. I do remember the carna
tions and mums. I hate the smell of those flowers now,” she said intensely.
And I was sick. The stress making my morning sickness return so strong I couldn’t keep anything down. The doctors wanted to admit me to the hospital, but I wouldn’t let them.

“The first night after everyone finally left, when the house was silent, I remember standing by the window. After an hour I realized what I was doing was waiting for Jerry to come home. I went to bed alone, and I lay watching the ceiling until it was time to get up again.” She gave a grim smile. “I didn’t think it was possible to cry for a month. I found out I was wrong.”

Scott’s arms tightened around her waist. Jennifer forced the story ahead a year, determined not to talk about the rest of it. “Once that first year was past, it got easier to come home to an empty house.”

“You decided to stay here?”

“Yes. Peter and Heather wanted me to move in with them, but I declined. This house is lonely now, but it’s still home. Little things Jerry and I did to make it fit us, the bird feeders in the backyard, the hammock we used all the time. I can’t walk away from this place.”

Scott rubbed his chin across the top of her head. “I’m very sorry you lost your husband, Jennifer. He sounds like he was a good man.”

She nodded. “You would have liked him, I think.”

Scott gently touched the dark circles under her eyes. “You still miss him a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Jennifer pulled away from his arms to lean back against the couch. “I don’t understand it, Scott. But I think about Jerry more now than I did a year ago. The memories are strong, almost painful, at times, they are so clear.”

“Because of the book?”

“Maybe. When I eventually finished the book Jerry and I had been working on together when he died, I was pretty much caught in my ‘I’m mad at you’ stage. I had a very severe case of depression, Why had life dared to change on me? I was well past that when I began this book. When I started writing this book, it was more a matter of learning to live a new life without Jerry. If my life was going on, how did I want to live it if I was alone? I keep remembering the past, how good it was, the fun we had together. I can’t see anything in the future that will compare with the past, and that is a very dangerous position to be in.”

“You loved your husband,” Scott replied, understanding.

Jennifer smiled. “With a passion.” She sighed. “Really loving someone means being willing to let them die first. That was the most difficult lesson I have ever had to learn.” Jennifer rubbed her eyes.

Jerry, I hope you like holding our daughter. I failed you. Failed Colleen. And God failed me. One simple prayer, Lord. Why couldn’t you answer that one simple, specific prayer?

“Scott, it’s late. Hadn’t you better be going?”

Scott could see the pain still in her eyes. He knew she was closing the subject before she had told him all of it. But it would do no good to push. It would only cause more pain; he wanted to help ease her pain, not make it worse. There would be other nights. “Yes, I suppose I should.” He reached out a hand to gently touch hers. “Thank you, Jennifer.”

She smiled. “I still think you should go away and come back in a year.”

He returned her smile, replying seriously, “I don’t.”

He touched the three-ring binder as he got to his feet. “Thanks for letting me read your book. I really did like it.”

Jennifer got to her feet. “I’m glad.” She carried the book over to the desk.

They walked together through the quiet house to the front door. “Are we still on for Thursday night, Jennifer?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He smiled. “Good. Get some sleep.”

“I will. Drive carefully, Scott.”

Jennifer shut the door after him, then leaned wearily against the door. The emotions of what she had not told him sent two solitary tears running down her cheeks.

“God, help me.”

The prayer was broken, painful, so much emotion sitting beneath the surface. She was petrified of how Scott would react if he saw the pain. She couldn’t show it to anyone, not Peter, not Rachel, only a little of it to Beth. They thought she had grieved for her husband and daughter and had begun to move on. The fact she had not only made her misery more deep. She should have grieved and moved on. But she hadn’t. There was so much pain, the tears were so near the surface any time she even thought about her daughter. The wound in her heart seemed to only grow with time, not heal.

God, why didn’t you answer that last prayer? Why?

She wanted to scream the words, but instead they were whispered with eyes full of tears.

J
ennifer was deep into writing the synopsis of the book her publisher would need for the sales and marketing departments when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jen.”

“Scott.” She put down her pen with a smile. “Hi.”

“Are you going to be free after six? I would like to take you out to dinner and a movie,” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“We have a date tomorrow night.”

“Consider it a double feature. All I’m getting done here is creating more work. Please, give me a reason to leave.”

She laughed. “I would love to,” Jennifer replied, twisting the telephone cord around her fingers.

“Great. I’ll pick you up about six-fifteen.”

“Sounds fine. What movie?”

“I’m flexible,” Scott replied. “There is a comedy, a mur
der mystery, three action adventures, and a Walt Disney film showing now.”

“Who is in the comedy?”

“Tom Hanks.”

“Let’s see the comedy.”

“Done. See you after six.”

Scott was early. Jennifer was trying to fasten her left earring when the doorbell rang. She was wearing dress slacks and a light sweater, but the earrings were her absolute favorites, and she was determined to wear them. Her mother had given them to her on her twenty-first birthday.

Carrying the earring, she went to get the door. “Hi, Scott. Come on in. I won’t be but a minute.”

He smiled. “Take your time. I’m early.”

She retreated to the bedroom. “Did the rest of the day turn out okay?”

He came to lounge against the door frame as she finished putting on the earrings. “Tolerable. I swear the paper just grows more paper.”

She grinned. “The stories feel like that sometimes.” She began looking for her shoes.

“They are under the bed, Jennifer,” he commented, having spotted the black flats.

She pulled out the shoes. “Thanks.”

“If you have a jacket, I would recommend you grab it.”

Jennifer nodded. She went to the closet to retrieve her leather jacket. “I don’t have anything lighter. I left my windbreaker at Peter’s.”

“This is perfect. You may need it before the night is over.”

“Just what do you have planned?”

He held up his hands. “Just dinner and a movie. But it’s good to be prepared.”

She grinned. “Oh.”

He smiled softly. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”

“Quite a change, isn’t it?” She smiled, offered a slight shrug. “The book is about ready to go to Ann.”

“Does that imply that when the writing is not going so well, you’re not in a great mood?”

“How do you feel after a day dealing with one crisis after another?”

“Touché.” He smiled. “You and Jerry had a warning system, didn’t you? A way to tell the other when it had been a lousy day on the book.”

She nodded. “If I told him to order in pizza, he got the message. Jerry,” she grinned, “he would unwind by practicing on his trumpet.”

“Was he good?”

Jennifer chuckled. “No.” She picked up her purse. “Okay, Scott, I’m ready.”

He locked the house for her. “Any preference tonight?”

“How about something Mexican?”

Scott held the passenger door for her. “I know the perfect place. About fifteen minutes from here.” Rounding the car, he took the driver’s seat. They left the subdivision. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.”

“So am I.”

He looked over at her, shared a smile.

“Scott, you’re driving. Your eyes are supposed to be on the road,” Jennifer reminded him.

“You’re a distraction.”

“Of course I am. Watch the road,” she replied with a grin.

The restaurant was a small place, tucked out of the general flow of traffic on a side street. “You’ll like this place, Jennifer. It has great food.” He offered her a hand from the car. As they walked to the door, his arm came firmly
around her waist. He had not forgotten what she said about first times.

“Watch the number of hot peppers beside the name of the dish. They will tell you how hot and spicy it is,” Scott warned her when they were seated.

Jennifer nodded. She read the menu with interest. “Everything looks delicious, Scott.”

He smiled. “It is.”

Jennifer finally settled on the burritos, extra spicy.

“You like hot and spicy?” Scott asked, surprised.

“I love it,” Jennifer replied, raiding the bowl of taco chips the restaurant offered as a courtesy. They were homemade. And delicious.

Scott placed the order for both of them. He had chosen the same dish as Jennifer. “Try some of this.” He pushed the bowl of hot salsa over to her.

“Not bad.” Jennifer replied after a couple of samples.

Scott smiled. “Are you going to continually surprise me like this, Jennifer?”

“Doesn’t everyone like spicy food?”

He chuckled. “No.” He offered the chip he held. Hers had broken in the dish.

“Thanks. I’ve only known you a few weeks,” she commented.

“That’s significant?”

She nodded. “I’ve already seen you four times. This makes five. Tomorrow will make six.”

“And?”

“Just how much are you planning for us to try and pack into this month?”

“Just as much as you’ll let me.”

“I was afraid of that. You look tired, Scott.”

“A little.”

“It’s not good to rush this, you know.”

“I know.”

“So how come we’re doing this?”

He grinned. “Because it really was the best idea I had all day.” He lifted another chip and offered it to her. She took a bite.

Dinner arrived.

“Tell me about these Monday-night football games. How long have you and Peter been getting together?”

“Jerry started it. He and Peter were close friends almost from the day they met. Monday night became the guys’ night out.” She smiled at the memory. “Peter used to always come early, and they would disappear somewhere for dinner, play a little basketball in the church gymnasium. Jerry was the coach for the church team for a while, then they would come back to the house in time to catch the game. I invariably ended up on the couch with Jerry for the duration of the game.” She chuckled. “He got an elbow in his ribs a couple times when he distracted me from the game. I love football, always have.”

She hesitated. “After Jerry’s death, Monday night was a way for Peter and me to both keep part of his memory alive. Peter uses it as an excuse to come over, see how I’m doing.”

Scott was glad she was willing to share with him her life with Jerry. It mattered. It meant she was trusting him with the most important part of who she was. He wanted to understand her past. He needed to understand her past. “That takes courage Jennifer, to hold on to the good memories rather than to try to bury all the memories, good and bad.”

“Maybe. As time goes on, the Monday nights have become easier. Those first few months, they were not so enjoyable.” Jennifer sighed. “Peter blamed himself for Jerry’s death. There was absolutely no reason to, but because he
was the one with him, he felt like he should have been able to do something. I was afraid for a long time that I had lost my brother as well as my husband. Peter takes guilt very seriously. And there were some extenuating circumstances which didn’t help.” Like Colleen.

“What brought him around?”

“I yelled at him a few times. And he was worried about me. Had to be around to protect me. Time wore away the edge of the pain.”

Jennifer needed the subject changed. “Tell me about your sister, Scott. What’s she like?”

Scott followed her lead. “Heather? She is unique. Quiet. Shy. Has vivid blue eyes.” He smiled. “Very strong willed. She knew who she was, what she wanted to do from the time she was five. Flowers. Anything she did was going to revolve around flowers.”

“You said she’s a florist now?”

“Yes. And has a thriving greenhouse business. She can make literally anything grow.” He spun the ice in his glass, looked over at her. “I have to confess something. I stood Heather up in order to take you to the play
Chess.
That’s why I’m on the hook to introduce you two.”

Jennifer laughed. “Scott, you didn’t!”

“I did,” he admitted.

“How long a lecture did she give you?”

He smiled. “An earful. I told her you had pretty eyes. It quieted her down.”

Jennifer had not laughed so much in months. “Scott, not while I’m this full,” she protested. “Now how am I supposed to meet your sister tomorrow night without being nervous?”

“You two will get along just fine.”

The waiter stopped to inquire if they would be interested
in any dessert. Jennifer declined with a smile. Scott asked for the check. “The movie starts in about thirty minutes. It’s time we headed over there.”

He reached for her hand as they left the restaurant.

The movie theater was crowded. Scott bought their tickets, escorted Jennifer through the crowds both entering and leaving the theater. He gestured toward the refreshment stand. “Want some popcorn?”

Jennifer laughed at his hopeful expression. “And a large diet cola,” she added.

He smiled. “Okay. Any candy?”

“Maybe an ice-cream cone after the movie,” Jennifer said.

He nodded. Regretfully he let go of her hand. “No need for you to stand in this mob. I’ll meet you by the doors to Theater Three?”

Jennifer nodded. “You won’t need a hand?”

“I’ll manage. See you soon.” He went to find a place in line.

Jennifer made her way to Theater Three. She frowned. There were children everywhere. The Disney film was showing in Theater Four. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She started reading movie posters, anything to keep from looking at the children.

A little hand pulled at the fabric of Jennifer’s slacks. “Hi.” The child was holding a handful of bright red licorice sticks. “Would you like one?”

The girl could be at best three years old. Jennifer felt physically sick. Blond hair. Brown eyes. Dark eyelashes. A perfect grin. The girl could have been her own daughter had she lived. “Thank you, honey, but I already have a treat.” Jennifer held up the piece of wrapped candy she had been carrying since they left the restaurant.

“Okay.”

“Mandy, come over here beside Mommy.”

The little girl turned. Jennifer looked up to see a lady carrying an infant coming toward them. The lady offered an apologetic smile on behalf of her daughter. Jennifer offered a soft envious smile is return. The little girl tottered off happily toward her mother.

The pain tore into her gut, and her heart stopped beating momentarily, held in the grip of a tight fist. Her composure already shaken, the encounter was enough to tip the balance. Lord, get me out of here. It was a desperate plea, and Jennifer was already turning to find the exit when Scott joined her. Never had she been more happy to see someone than at that moment. “Scott, would you please take me home?” She was desperate, and it came across in her voice and her eyes.

“Jennifer, what’s wrong?” He set down the popcorn and drinks on the ledge of a display. She looked pale, shaky on her feet. He hadn’t realized she wasn’t feeling well.

“I need to leave,” she replied softly, forcefully.

Kicking himself for not being more observant, Scott abandoned the food and maneuvered them toward the exit. Now was not the time for questions. Concern became alarm as they passed a family with an infant and a blond-haired little girl. Jennifer looked like she was going to pass out. His arm around her waist tightened. They reached the doors and she wobbled on her feet. “Let’s get your jacket on, Jennifer,” he said, quickly pulling it apart from his. She rested her head against the cold glass, letting him slip her jacket around her shoulders. He hurriedly found his keys.

Colleen. She tried to fight the tears. Didn’t succeed.

His hand gripped hers. “Jennifer?”

She just shook her head.

Scott wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and
pushed open the door. He was grateful they had parked nearby. Unlocking the passenger door, he helped her inside. Quickly, he moved around to the driver’s seat. She was shivering. He started the car and turned the heater on full blast.

She took a painful breath and let it out slowly.

He watched her closely. There was very little color in her face, and her jaw was clenched as she tried to fight the tears. He’d never seen someone in shock before, and that was what he was seeing. “What happened?”

She turned her head against the seat to look at him, and it was obvious she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t know how to apologize for her request, didn’t know what to say. “An old memory, Scott. I just wasn’t ready for it,” she finally said painfully.

Pain? This was agony. His hand reached over to comfortably grip hers. “Want to tell me about it?” Please, have the courage to tell me, he prayed silently.

How do I tell him about Colleen? Jennifer struggled to find the words and simply could not. The tears were already falling. To open up that pain would be devastating right now. “I’m sorry, Scott. I just can’t.”

If her refusal hurt, he didn’t show it. He gently pulled her over from leaning against the door. His arms came around her and, very softly, he leaned down and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “It’s okay, Jennifer,” he said quietly, and the gentleness in his voice, his touch, told her the rest. He really was willing to give her the freedom to decide when and if she told him what was wrong. Scott kept her tucked close against his side and pulled the car out into traffic.

“Have you ever seen the city lights from Overlook Drive?” He asked a few minutes later when her tears had quieted.

She shook her head.

“They are worth seeing,” Scott commented, looking down at her with a question in his eyes.

Jennifer was grateful he was not ending the evening early. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. “I would like to see them, Scott.” She rested her head against his shoulder. The arm around her moved, brushed the hair away from her face, before setting back around shoulders. “Close your eyes. Rest. We are several minutes from Overlook Drive. I’ll let you know before we get there.”

Jennifer could feel Scott’s words as well as hear them. The last time she had been this close to a man was with Jerry. She had missed it. She closed her eyes, more than willing to just enjoy being beside him, to dream a bit about it being for real, permanent. Anything to stop her from thinking about Colleen. “These memories are never going to fade, Scott.”