“No,” I said. “It’s nice to be away from it for a while.”
She eyed me carefully. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course.” I tugged at my polo shirt. “It’s nice not to always have to put on a suit during the week.”
“I’ll bet you’ve forgotten what that’s like, haven’t you. You haven’t taken a long vacation in . . . what? Eight years?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve taken a few days here and there, but the last time you actually took a week off was in 1995. Don’t you remember? When we took all the kids to Florida? It was right after Joseph graduated from high school.”
She was right, I realized, but what I once regarded as a virtue, I now considered a fault.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“For not taking more vacations. That wasn’t fair to you or the family. I should have tried to do more with you and the kids than I did.”
“It’s fine,” she said with a wave of her fork, “no big deal.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. Though she had long since grown used to my dedication at the office and now accepted it as part of my character, I knew it had always been a sore spot with her. Knowing that I had her attention, I went on.
“It’s always been a big deal,” I continued. “But I’m not sorry only about that. I’m sorry about all of it. I’m sorry for letting work interfere with all the other events I missed when the kids were growing up. Like some of their birthday parties. I can’t even remember how many I missed because I had late meetings that I refused to reschedule. And everything else I missed—the volleyball games and track meets, piano concerts, school plays . . . It’s a wonder that the kids have forgiven me, let alone seem to like me.”
She nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing. Then again, there was nothing she could say. I took a deep breath and plunged on.
“I know I haven’t always been the best husband, either,” I said quietly. “Sometimes I wonder why you’ve put up with me for as long as you have.”
At that, her eyebrows rose.
“I know you spent too many evenings and weekends alone, and I put all the responsibility for child rearing on you. That wasn’t fair to you. And even when you told me that what you wanted more than anything was to spend time with me, I didn’t listen. Like for your thirtieth birthday.” I paused, letting my words sink in. Across the table, I watched Jane’s eyes flash with the memory. It was one of the many mistakes I’d made in the past that I’d tried to forget.
What she’d asked for back then had been quite simple: Overwhelmed with the new burdens of motherhood, she’d wanted to feel like a woman again, at least for an evening, and had dropped various hints in advance about what such a romantic evening might entail—clothes laid out on the bed for her, flowers, a limousine to whisk us to a quiet restaurant, a table with a lovely view, quiet conversation without worrying that she had to rush home. Even back then, I knew it was important to her, and I remember making a note to do everything she wanted. However, I got so embroiled in some messy proceedings relating to a large estate that her birthday arrived before I could make the arrangements. Instead, at the last minute I had my secretary pick out a stylish tennis bracelet, and on the way home, I convinced myself that because it had been expensive, she would regard it as equally special. When she unwrapped it, I promised that I’d make the necessary plans for a wonderful evening together, an evening even better than the one she’d described. In the end, it was another in a long line of promises that I ended up breaking, and in hindsight, I think Jane realized it as soon as I said it.
Feeling the weight of lost opportunity, I didn’t continue. I rubbed my forehead in the silence. I pushed my plate aside, and as the past sped by in a series of disheartening memories, I felt Jane’s eyes on me. Surprising me, however, she reached across the table and touched my hand.
“Wilson? Are you okay?” There was a note of tender concern in her voice that I didn’t quite recognize.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why all the regrets tonight? Was it something that Daddy said?”
“No.”
“Then what made you bring it up?”
“I don’t know . . . maybe it’s the wedding.” I gave a halfhearted smile. “But I’ve been thinking about those things a lot these days.”
“It doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But it’s still true.”
Jane cocked her head. “I haven’t been perfect, either, you know.”
“You’ve been a lot closer than I’ve been.”
“That’s true,” she said with a shrug.
I laughed despite myself, feeling the tension ease a little.
“And yes, you have worked a lot,” she went on. “Probably too much. But I always knew you were doing it because you wanted to provide for our family. There’s a lot to be said for that, and I was able to stay home and raise the kids because of it. That was always important to me.”
I smiled, thinking about her words and the forgiveness I heard in them. I was a lucky man, I thought, and I leaned across the table.
“You know what else I’ve been thinking about?” I asked.
“Is there more?”
“I was trying to figure out why you married me in the first place.”
Her expression softened. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I wouldn’t have married you unless I wanted to.”
“Why did you marry me?”
“Because I loved you.”
“But why?”
“There were a lot of reasons.”
“Like what?”
“You want specifics?”
“Humor me. I just told you all my secrets.”
She smiled at my insistence.
“All right. Why I married you . . . Well, you were honest and hardworking and kind. You were polite and patient, and more mature than any guy I’d dated before. And when we were together, you listened in a way that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. You made me feel complete, and spending time with you just seemed right.”
She hesitated for a moment. “But it wasn’t just about my feelings. The more I got to know you, the more I was certain that you’d do whatever it took to provide for your family. That was important to me. You have to understand that back then, a lot of people our age wanted to change the world. Even though it’s a noble idea, I knew I wanted something more traditional. I wanted a family like my parents had, and I wanted to concentrate on my little corner of the world. I wanted someone who wanted to marry a wife and mother, and someone who would respect my choice.”
“And have I?”
“For the most part.”
I laughed. “I notice you didn’t mention my dashing good looks or dazzling personality.”
“You wanted the truth, right?” she teased.
I laughed again, and she squeezed my hand. “I’m just kidding. Back then, I used to love how you looked in the mornings, right after you put on your suit. You were tall and trim, a young go-getter out to make a good life for us. You were very attractive.”
Her words warmed me. For the next hour—while we perused the catering menu over coffee and listened to the music floating up from downstairs—I noticed her eyes occasionally on my face in a way that felt almost unfamiliar. The effect was quietly dizzying. Perhaps she was remembering the reasons she’d married me, just as she’d related them to me. And though I couldn’t be absolutely certain, her expression as she gazed at me made me believe that every now and then, she was still glad that she had.
Chapter Ten
On Tuesday morning, I woke before dawn and slid out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jane. After dressing, I slipped through the front door. The sky was black; even the birds hadn’t begun to stir, but the temperature was mild, and the asphalt was slick from a shower that had passed through the night before. Already I could feel the first hint of the day’s coming humidity, and I was glad to be out early.
I settled into an easy pace at first, then gradually quickened my stride as my body began to warm up. Over the past year, I’d come to enjoy these walks more than I thought I would. Originally, I figured that once I’d lost the weight that I wanted, I’d cut back, but instead I added a bit of distance to my walks and made a point of noting the times of both my departure and my return.
I had come to crave the quiet of the mornings. There were few cars out at this hour, and my senses seemed heightened. I could hear my breath, feel the pressure as my feet moved over the asphalt, watch the dawn as it unfolded—at first a faint light on the horizon, an orange glow over the treetops, then the steady displacement of black by gray. Even on dreary mornings, I found myself looking forward to my walks and wondering why I’d never exercised like this before.
My walk usually took forty-five minutes, and toward the end, I slowed my pace to catch my breath. There was a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead, but it felt good. Noticing the kitchen light at my house was already on, I turned into our driveway with an eager smile.
As soon as I pushed through the front door, I caught the aroma of bacon wafting from the kitchen, a scent that reminded me of our earlier life. When there were children in the house, Jane usually prepared a family breakfast, but our differing schedules in recent years had brought them to an end. It was yet another change that had somehow overtaken our relationship.
Jane poked her head around the corner as I padded through the living room. She was already dressed and wearing an apron.
“How’d your walk go?” she asked.
“I felt pretty good,” I said, “for an old guy, that is.” I joined her in the kitchen. “You’re up early.”
“I heard you leave the bedroom,” she said, “and since I knew there was no way I’d fall asleep again, I decided to get up. Want a cup of coffee?”
“I think I need some water first,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Bacon and eggs,” she said, reaching for a glass. “I hope you’re hungry. Even though we ate so late last night, I was still hungry when I got up.” She filled the glass from the tap and handed it to me. “Must be nerves,” she said with a grin.
As I took the glass, I felt her fingers brush mine. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but her gaze seemed to linger on me a little longer than usual. “Let me go shower and throw on some clean clothes,” I said. “How much longer till breakfast is ready?”
“You’ve got a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll get the toast going.”
By the time I came back downstairs, Jane was already serving up at the table. I sat next to her.
“I’ve been thinking about whether or not to stay overnight,” she said.
“And?”
“It’ll depend on what Dr. Barnwell says when he calls. If he thinks Daddy’s doing well, I might as well head on to Greensboro. If we don’t find a dress, that is. Otherwise I’ll just have to make the drive tomorrow anyway. But I’ll have my cell phone in case anything happens.”
I crunched on a piece of bacon. “I don’t think you’ll need it. Had he taken a turn for the worse, Dr. Barnwell would have called already. You know how much he cares for Noah.”
“I’m still going to wait until I talk to him, though.”
“Of course. And as soon as visiting hours start, I’ll head in to see Noah.”
“He’ll be grouchy, you know. He hates hospitals.”
“Who doesn’t? Unless you’re having a baby, I can’t imagine anyone liking them.”
She buttered her toast. “What are you thinking about doing with the house? Do you really think there’ll be enough room for everyone?”
I nodded. “If we get the furniture out, there should be plenty of room. I figured we’d just store it in the barn for a few days.”
“And you’ll hire someone to move it all?”
“If I have to. But I don’t think I’ll need to. The landscaper has a fairly large crew coming. I’m sure he won’t mind if they take a few minutes to help me.”
“It’ll be kind of empty, won’t it?”
“Not once we have the tables inside. I was thinking of setting up the buffet line next to the windows, and we can leave an area open for dancing right in front of the fireplace.”
“What dancing? We don’t have any music arranged.”
“Actually, that was on my agenda for today. Along with getting the cleaners set up and dropping off the menu at the Chelsea, of course.”
She tilted her head, scrutinizing me. “You sound like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“What do you think I was doing this morning while I was walking?”
“Panting. Wheezing. The usual.”
I laughed. “Hey, I’m actually getting in fairly good shape. I passed someone today.”
“The old man in the walker again?”
“Ha, ha,” I said, but I was enjoying her high spirits. I wondered if it had anything to do with the way she’d looked at me the night before. Whatever the reason, I knew I wasn’t imagining it. “Thanks for making breakfast, by the way.”
“It’s the least I could do. Considering the fact that you’ve been such a big help this week. And you’ve made dinner twice.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “I have been quite the saint.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“No?”
“No. But without your help, I would have been insane by now.”