Sunday morning, Jeremy walked through the doors of Woodland Church hand in hand with Monica. He edged them toward the etched glass doors to the sanctuary, which were presently flung open to welcome one and all to ten o’clock services. Jeremy was stopped repeatedly by people he knew, but he didn’t mind. It gave him the chance to mix and mingle with Monica at his side, and introduce her to his place of worship.
They moved through the entrance and down the main aisle to join his family. Jeremy was about to slide into the pew, next to his mother, but Monica restrained him by taking hold of his arm. She moved smoothly ahead, claiming that spot instead. Following a deliberate glance into Jeremy’s eyes, Monica sat.
“Good morning, Elise,” she said. “How are you?” She leaned forward to make eye contact with his father as well. “Hi, Ben. It’s good to see you again.”
Genuine and welcoming, Monica possessed top-notch intuition. Jeremy warmed on the inside, proud of her. Monica seemed eager that any residual discomfort from last weekend vanished, and her efforts didn’t go unnoticed. His mother didn’t bubble over, like usual, or offer one of her automatic hugs, but she smiled and handed Monica a hymnal and a brief discussion ensued regarding the rundown of the day’s readings and order of service.
It was a positive start, and Jeremy telegraphed that recognition into physicality, placing his arm along the back of the pew, keeping a connected, protective touch on Monica’s shoulder.
Afterwards, they hung back to spend some time talking with family members and friends. Ken was deluged with departing parishioners, so one-on-one time with the pastor seemed out of the question for the time being—especially when one church member, an elderly lady who was speaking with Ken intently, ended up being led to his office after services. Looked like Ken’s help was required elsewhere today.
Jeremy didn’t mind much, however. Monica had made an entrée into his life at Woodland with genuine comfort. Hope bloomed.
After church, it was time to bond with his brothers. He dropped Monica at her place, made a mad dash home to change clothes. He’d soon be on his way to Ford Field for a Detroit Lion’s football game.
Monica’s introduction to Woodland was a success, however a new realization dawned. What got lost in translation of late was his own reaction to falling so hard, and so fast, for a woman who would never be able to carry a child. His child. Their child.
Was it crazy to think so far ahead? The practical side of his nature said yes, but his heart screamed no—loud and clear.
Definitely a topic for discussion with his most trusted confidantes—his brothers.
A short time later, he and his brothers were on the road, headed into downtown Detroit. And it didn’t take long for those trusted confidantes to gang up on him. In fact, the tag team event began almost immediately.
“So, bro,” Marty began, “you hearing the call of the ball and chain? You getting ready to take that fateful plunge?”
From the rear seat, Jeremy looked at his watch. “Wow, Marty. That only took three minutes. Coll, you had even money on five minutes. I had greater faith in his lack of restraint and pegged that question coming in at seven minutes after pick-up.”
Riding shotgun, Collin turned to look over his shoulder. His grin went devilish. “Sorry, JB, but I’m with Marty on this one. Next thing you know, you’ll be strolling the aisles of some high-end department store with one of those radar guns, electro-registering for flatware and china patterns. It’s a sad day, really. The end of a legend.”
Jeremy openly gaped at Collin, the one he had expected to be his champion. “Way to perform a stand up, Coll. Let’s hope the Lions defensive line shows more skill than you.”
“Touchy, touchy,” Marty quipped. “Might as well give in, JB. Monica’s great. Steph said she’s real nice. She enjoyed spending time with her.”
That was good to hear. “Thanks. Mom’s a bit of a tougher nut to crack on that count, though. I think she came away a little disappointed. And concerned. Her expectations were different than what Monica showed last weekend. Especially with the kids.”
By intent, the sentence dangled, creating a means by which to seek their counsel on the issue of children, and family. Marty was shrewd, and perceptive, too. He picked up on the undercurrent with ease. “I kinda noticed that. In the backyard, during that soccer scrimmage.”
Collin nodded. “St. Antoine Street garage is coming up.”
Their conversation on hold now, Marty pulled up to the gate of the parking structure and swiped a ticket from the dispenser. From there, walking into Ford Field was akin to facing a blitzkrieg of sound, sensation and excitement. The crowd hummed, speakers blared music with a pounding beat that synched with digital ads and crowd-sparking prompts that formed a never-ending circle of lights and color across the mid-section of the stadium.
After stocking up on food and drinks, they took their seats and settled in. They sent up a unison roar of support at kick-off when the Lions took possession and performed a decent, 30-yard return. After a while, the game evolved into a back-and-forth rhythm that enabled Jeremy to join his brothers in simply stretching back, downing some junk food, and chatting.
The Lions and Packers were locked in a three-three tie at the end of the first quarter. Jeremy put out a test comment as he surveyed the cheering crowd that surrounded them. “This is the best. And I love watching the families.”
“We gotta train ’em young to appreciate the joys and agonies of pro football in Detroit,” Collin answered, tossing back a handful of popcorn and propping his feet against the chair in front of him.
“Pro?” Marty shot back. “You sure about that?”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “The Lions are hanging tough. Have faith.” He bit into his hotdog and chewed, pondering for a bit. “Have you ever thought about what your life would be like without kids?”
If surprised by the question, Marty and Collin didn’t show it.
“Nope. Once you have them, you can’t remember a time when they weren’t a part of your life,” Marty said.
“They change everything, for sure,” Collin added.
Jeremy’s intensity increased by small degrees. “Yeah, but”—he stopped watching the game and instead, regarded his brothers—“what if you weren’t able to have them? What if Stephanie couldn’t have conceived? What if Daveny were infertile? Would it have made a difference to you? You know, in your relationship?”
Marty and Collin exchanged a look, then gave Jeremy their complete attention. Collin leaned in. “It would have been a tough thing to consider, I have to say that, but I also have to say nothing would change the love I feel for Daveny. It’s that powerful a thing.”
“Same here. I can’t imagine my life without Steph. But it would have taken some serious help to overcome. Some serious prayer time and heart-to-heart.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeremy muttered, trying to keep track of the action on the field. Players, uniforms, downs all became a blur.
“What are you saying, JB?” Collin asked. “What’s up? Does this have to do with Monica, somehow?”
Jeremy speared his brother with a look. Come clean? Protect their privacy as a couple? He wasn’t quite sure what to do, but these were his brothers, his allies. “Monica can’t have kids. She can’t conceive.”
Despite the noise level of the game, a stillness settled between the threesome. Glances were exchanged as Jeremy’s revelation was absorbed.
“So, that’s what these questions are all about.” Marty’s eyebrows lifted, and he blew out a sigh. “Gotta say, that’s a tough one, JB. What’s the issue? Why can’t she have kids?”
“Ever hear of endometriosis?”
Compassion glimmered through Marty’s eyes. Collin frowned.
“She’s had it for years. It’s serious enough that she’ll never be able to have kids of her own.” He filled them in with a bit of background.
When he was through, Marty seemed to check in with Collin. “Listen up, JB,” Marty began. “You want some input from my end? Stick by her. She’s good for you. I’ve never seen you look at a woman with love in your eyes. You’ve never let your heart go. Not completely. Now you have. You’ve got Monica, and you’re happy. I could tell that as soon as I saw the two of you together on Sunday.”
A bomb blast could have taken place at mid-field and Jeremy wouldn’t have noticed. His focus latched onto Marty and stayed put.
“All I’ll add is that you can’t let her condition stand in the way,” Collin put in. “Not if she’s the one. If you do, you’ll lose the woman you’re meant to be with.”
The Lions must have done something great on the field, because the crowd sent up a yell that resounded through the stadium. When the cheering abated, Jeremy admitted, “I don’t know if I can take it, guys. I want a family. I want kids. I want a houseful of noise and love like we grew up in. With Monica I’d have to give up that dream.”
Collin paused, then looked Jeremy straight in the eyes. “And Monica?”
Jeremy stared at him blankly.
Collin sighed, and shook his head. “What about Monica? What about her dreams? You’ve told us just now how important kids are to her, and I see her day after day at Sunny Horizons. I can tell how much she loves them. This isn’t just your dream, JB. It’s hers, too.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jeremy’s reply came out tinged by heat because Collin’s observation placed him smack-dab between love and heart-felt wishes. “Her needs, my needs, they’re tough to reconcile, all things considered, know what I mean? That’s my problem!”
“You bet I know what you mean,” Marty said. “And we’re on your side—but maybe what the two of you need to do is see all the alternatives available—all the opportunities you have to pursue a family outside of traditional, natural means.”
“Adoption,” Jeremy said.
“Adoption,” Collin and Marty answered.
Jeremy pursed his lips and looked, unseeing, at the carpet of green field before him. He focused enough to recognize the Lions now led by a field goal. So that had been the cause of ruckus just a bit ago. “I hate to even raise the issue. She’s emotionally and physically exhausted. To be honest, I think she’s done trying to deal with family issues. Instead, she’s pouring her energy into the daycare center and her dance classes at the community center.”
Collin leaned forward on his knees. His attention centered on the field, but his eyes were cloudy, distant. “I can understand that method of coping. She’s trying to convince herself she’s fulfilled. That everything is OK in her life. I used to practice that kind of evasion about Lance, until Daveny, and God’s plan, entered my life and turned it completely around. Maybe that’s the role you’re meant to play in Monica’s life, bro. A catalyst. A lifeline, as well as a partner.”
Marty took it from there. “I’ll bottom line it for ya,’ JB. Do you love Monica enough to forego the single life, and family? She’s unable to have kids. If she’s dead set against adoption once you guys talk it over, you’ll need to make that decision.”
Marty’s observation was on the mark. Jeremy swigged back some soda and crunched some popcorn. “I can’t help how I feel. I want a family. I’ve worked hard to build Edwards Construction into a source of provision, a company I can maybe pass on to my kids someday, or at least see to their security as they grow up. That’s part of what drives me. Part of what I am.”
Collin gave him a sharp look. “Fair enough. But don’t sacrifice your heart for that. If you do, you’ll end up miserable. Provision, and legacies, are great, but they won’t fill that empty spot you’re talking about.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Marty chimed in. “You may not be able to have it both ways—Monica and a family, too. Figure out what you want, sort it out and build from there. Time will win her trust. Your support—and it can’t waver—will do the rest.”
A course to follow. Back to basics.
Marty started to pay attention to the action on the field. He sent up a happy whoop that drew them all back into the game. “First down, baby!”
Collin and JB exchanged smirks.
“Don’t fall into the trap, Marty. Remember, it’s the Lions.” Collin slapped Marty on the shoulder.
Marty looked at Collin with a determined glint in his eye. “And remember, like JB said, hope springs eternal.”
****
At home that night, Jeremy’s restless mind refused to calm. He changed into sweats, tried to unwind. Instead, he paced.
In the end, he stood before golden, slowly-dying embers in his fireplace, studying a lineup of photographs along the mantle. He reached out, picking up one of the framed pictures. This particular shot featured the entire Edwards family; it had been taken by a professional photographer last year. Methodically he traced several of the images, thinking how important each person was to him.
Adoption. Jeremy was of the mind that if Monica were comfortable with that idea, she would have floated it by now. Adoption, an obvious means to the end of having, and raising, a family, had never been mentioned.
So, the biggest question looming involved his own ability, or inability, to reconcile himself to the possibility of being a family of two—him, and Monica.
He had witnessed Monica with children both at her daycare center, and at the dance classes. Now, he felt nothing but a yearning that bordered on jealousy. Over time, she would be able to dote on children. Knowing her condition, she had wisely made them fundamental to her life. She could pour loving energy into their care. How was he supposed to make that adjustment, and find fulfillment? This was all so new to him still, and such a surprising—unexpected—twist of heart.
He paid particular attention to the images of his nieces and nephews. He had always enjoyed spoiling them. If his relationship with Monica continued and grew, his siblings’ children would become even more precious; they might help fill the void in his heart.
But it won’t be the same.
One by one, different scenarios came to mind: teaching a little boy how to swing a bat, playing catch, helping a little girl color with crayons, or fly high on a swing. He thought of school days, dances, dating and milestone moments like first days of school, driving a car, graduation. Weddings.
Jeremy replaced the picture and rubbed his eyes with a tired sigh. Nieces and nephews were wonderful, but they weren’t his. He couldn’t raise them, or watch them grow each day. He couldn’t be the constant they relied upon when they had problems, or when they wanted to share a victory.
But then, like a circle, his thoughts returned to Monica. He couldn’t sacrifice his love for her. Not even for children.
I need to adjust, he told himself. I may have to find a way to be fulfilled without children. And if that’s the case, I’ll cope somehow. She means that much.