Swags of white netting stretched like curved arms across the length of the ceiling. Clear twinkle lights illuminated the great room of the Baxter Morgan Bed and Breakfast with a creamy glow. Music pumped through the air, sometimes fast and driving, sometimes slow and romantic. The atmosphere was perfect for the wedding reception of Steve Richards and Rebecca Tomblin Richards and the party was in full swing.
Watching the newly married couple dance made Jeremy smile. He held a flute of champagne; best man and maid of honor had just offered their toasts. He stood near the family table, and a pleasing rhythm surrounded him punctuated by chatter, flashbulbs, laughter, music and dishware chiming and clattering as attendees finished eating wedding cake. Swaying a bit, tapping her fingertips on the back of a chair, Monica stood close by, watching the proceedings with a happy look in her eyes.
Jeremy’s hand came to rest against the small of her back, and before she could even turn, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked in close. She leaned back with a contented sigh, which he could hear despite the party atmosphere. Among many things, he loved her natural, effortless affection, the connected intimacy she created with nothing more than a well-timed caress, or a meaningful look.
At a loss for the moment, Jeremy caught his breath, then leaned in close to her ear. “You seem like a lady who might enjoy a turn on the dance floor.”
“You prowling for volunteers, JB?” she teased.
“Actually, I’m quite selective.”
The music shifted from fast to slow. Jeremy edged her away from the table. “I’m stealing her for a bit. We’re going to dance,” he called over his shoulder to his parents and siblings.
She followed his lead, and he ached for the feel of her arms around his neck, the synergy of sharing a tender dance in time to a lush ballad. Jeremy drew her neatly into the circle of his arms. He nuzzled her cheek and Monica slipped her fingertips beneath his hairline, then against the skin of his neck. Jeremy closed his eyes. “Nice.”
“Very,” she whispered back, settling into the well-executed moves of their dance. She relaxed against him and seemed to drift into the moment, which suited Jeremy just fine. Her natural grace carried him away, lending smooth connection to their movements.
“When the song ends, do you feel like taking a break for air out in the lobby?”
Monica tilted her head to look into his eyes. “Not a minute before, though.” They shared a laugh. “Actually, I’d love it. Once I checked into my room and changed for the wedding, I didn’t have much time left to explore the place. It seems beautiful.”
Jeremy leaned in to skim his lips against her throat. He couldn’t get enough of her scent and the satiny texture of her skin. Giving a restrained sigh, he dotted her cheeks with slow, deliberate kisses, nuzzling as they swayed. Monica settled against him; her trusting surrender amplified his determination to remain noble, despite the silken temptation of her lips, the smoke of her deep blue eyes.
Pulling apart at the end of the song left behind an exquisite promise of all that Jeremy knew would come to life between them in the years and decades to come. But that was just it. Life. Life was an issue in need of direct confrontation. He prayed for finesse in what he was about to do, and the guiding stroke of God’s hand. God had brought them together. Now, Jeremy relied on Him to keep them together, fulfilled, and united as a couple.
“Let’s head to the lobby. There’s a sitting area.”
Monica fanned her face, shooting him a saucy grin. “Good idea. I’m about to overheat. Maybe because of my date?”
Jeremy loved her playful spark, but longed for seriousness, for open hearts and a bit more vulnerability. So, he held her gaze steady and drew her forward. He detected her answering shiver in the subtle tremble of her fingertips.
“Come here, Jellybean,” he beckoned quietly. Enticingly.
Tingles woke up along his skin, transferring, he imagined, directly to her. He turned toward the entrance of the room and led the way through a set of glass double doors. Monica, meanwhile, went shy. The closer they came to the bright lights of the outer reception area, Jeremy noticed her skin’s heightened color. She toyed with the slim strap of the evening bag presently secured on her shoulder.
People walked in and out of the entrance of the bed and breakfast, which left the lobby temperature refreshing and cool. Wanting to be attentive, before Monica could even voice the need, Jeremy removed his suit jacket and settled it smoothly across shoulders left bare by a blue satin dress he had admired all evening. He drew her close once the garment was in place.
“Hard to believe there are just a few weeks until the recital,” she offered, more timid than he would have expected. That was OK by Jeremy. Being off balance would leave less time for defenses, and those walls she sculpted and nurtured.
“Christmas is coming fast,” he agreed.
“You still planning to be there? At the recital?”
“Am I still invited?” he joked.
“Of course.” She laughed, a light, happy sound. She seemed to have regained her mental footing. Monica linked her arm through his.
They sat on a couch, in a lobby devoid of crowds. A picture window overlooked Lake Michigan not far beyond; though at the moment, only shore lights interrupted the rich black view. As carefully as possible, he tried to foster intimacy—physical closeness, eye-to-eye connection, linked hands, a light caress.
“This has been a great night,” he said softly. Monica’s luminous eyes were more than enough to shut off the world around them. No longer did he hear the underlying beat of music from the nearby great room. No longer did he see people floating about, mingling, taking breathers. “And from it, I want you take just one thing, Monica.”
She waited, her posture still, anticipatory.
“I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. I have every intention of celebrating a day like this with you. I have every intention of marrying you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Even though he half-expected them, the evidence of her overwhelmed and tender reaction undid him. “In spite of everything I’m not?”
Those words undid him even further. “Because of everything you are. Because of the love I feel. I’ll deal. We will deal. But ask yourself something. From the gut. Are you happy as you are right now? Because if you’re happy, I’ll be happy.”
“I think the answer to that question is pretty clear in the way I live my life. I have enough kids to literally fill a school. The question for me is, will you be happy without a family?”
As she waited on his answer, her body went taut. A sharp, squeeze hit his heart when he decided his answer, but really, the choice was no longer his. The decision had been made when he’d fallen in love with her.
“Yes, I will. If I’m being given a chance to spend my life with you, that would be enough to make me happy. Do you want to know why?” Monica nipped at her lower lip and nodded. Jeremy stroked a fingertip against her jaw, trailed it against her throat, then her chin. “Do you remember our kiss? When I saw you home?”
Monica swallowed. “Pretty tough moment to forget.”
“You referred to me as chivalrous.”
“You are.”
“Maybe, yeah. But the reason I walked away that night, the only thing that made it possible for me to back away from you, is the reverence I feel about what we’ve found together.”
“Reverence.”
He liked the way she let the word roll off her tongue—slow and savoring. “Yes, reverence. You inspire that deep of an emotion in me. You fulfill and capture a part of me that leaves me in awe. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before, and never will again. I’m that certain of you. Of us.
“And whether we were destined to have a dozen kids or none at all, that truth is never, ever going to change.” He leaned in and claimed her lips. He coaxed, enticed and captured, drawing her gently forward by a tug against the lapels of his jacket.
“I love you, Monica,” he whispered against her mouth. “No matter what. Don’t forget that, and don’t ever, ever doubt it.”
****
Monica dealt with the after-effects of a sleepless night, of revelations from Jeremy that knocked her senseless, even now, hours after the fact.
She packed to leave, but her gaze strayed to the nearby window, and its gorgeous view of Lake Michigan. Before heading to church with the rest of the Edwards family, she wanted to indulge one last whim before leaving this gorgeous location. Brisk winter winds or not, she wanted to take a quick walk along the shoreline.
A short time later, she was bundled into a knit cap, thick gloves and a calf-length coat of royal blue wool, traversing the golden beach. Frothy gray water coated the sand, leaving dark marks and indentations as it pushed inland, then receded. Whitecaps rolled forward, ebbing and flowing, as timeless as a heartbeat.
Jeremy’s words played through her mind, tempting her to give up her fears, once and for all, in order to cling tightly to a man, and a love, that made her whole for the first time in her life. When Jeremy was nearby, the emptiness in her spirit vanished. Doubts crowding her mind, fled. But when she was alone, the demons seeped into cracks and crevices, where fear and misgiving could bloom large, and flourish.
“Good morning, Monica.” She nearly stumbled in surprise at the unexpected greeting.
“Hi, Elise. I see you’re willing to brave hypothermia, as well.” Monica smiled, but the gesture felt hesitant on her lips.
“I still like Lake Saint Clair the best,” Elise remarked. “Although, it’s not nearly as impressive.” For a few minutes, they walked the beach, buffeted by cold wind, but swept into a majestic view. “Did you enjoy the wedding?”
“Very much.”
You know, I have the feeling this might be you and Jeremy before too long.”
I’d like to be that lucky, and leave him fulfilled.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?” Elise asked.
“I’ll sure try. What’s that?”
“Well, we’ve tap danced around it a bit recently, and the tour of the daycare center ended before I could really speak to you at length…and sort a few things out.”
Monica watched Jeremy’s mother, encouraging her with a nod.
“I’m hoping you might tell me what lies beneath.”
“What lies beneath?” Monica’s curiosity built.
“Well, I know we’ve talked about the day we gathered for dinner, and I’ve seen how you relate so beautifully, and so openly, to the kids at Sunny Horizons. It’s impressive.” Elise lifted a shoulder and offered a self-deprecating smile. “I know we’ve moved past any kind of misconceptions between us, but visiting the center left me wondering what caused it in the first place. If you don’t mind my asking, that is…”
Monica sucked in a breath, taken by surprise. There was no acrimony or conviction in Elise’s tone, only a request for mutual understanding. Therefore, Monica was completely unsure how to proceed and respond.
Elise gave her a warm, tender smile. “I’m famous for being blunt, so, like I said, please proceed only if you feel comfortable. You’re just—you’re like a mystery to me. A mystery that involves one of the most precious people in my life, my son.”
Monica finally understood Elise’s continuing sense of displacement. She didn’t know. Jeremy’s mom had no idea about Monica’s battle with endometriosis. “He never told you, did he?”
“Jeremy?”
Monica nodded in reply.
“Tell me what?”
In an effort to protect their relationship, to guard its development at a very vulnerable, and critical moment, Jeremy had kept her condition a private matter so they might sort out their own feelings and plans before trying to bring family, and all of its attached emotions, into the mix. It was an inherently protective move on Jeremy’s part. One that Monica couldn’t help admiring. Maybe openness, now, would pave a smoother road for her, and Elise.
“I think it’s the answer to those questions you have about me.” Chilling winds swept across the water, skimming over the sand, blowing hard through empty tree branches that chattered above them. “I’m unable to have children, Elise. I want them more than anything—but it’s just not meant to happen.”
Elise stopped walking. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, Monica. That’s tragic. Someone with your gifts, and heart? I’m so sorry.” Elise reached out and gave her hand a tight squeeze.
“Thank you.” Monica didn’t know what else to say.
Elise lifted her chin, gathering her poise. “I wish I had known. I certainly would have been more understanding about the issues you faced during dinner that weekend. It must have been awful for you.”
“By the same token, I should have been more rational, but it was like a perfect storm coming over me. Please don’t worry about it. I’m sorry if I gave you the feeling I don’t appreciate all that you did that day—and all that you mean to Jeremy.”
“Thank you, but I can’t help worrying. Especially about matters that concern my son, and the woman he’s fallen in love with.”
“How would you feel about that, Elise? If you watched him marry a woman who couldn’t have children?”
“I’ve said it before. If Jeremy’s happy, I’ll be happy.”
Monica quelled the urge to squirm under such a direct and blunt declaration. Instead, she forced herself to relax. “Your family is such a blessing. I envy you their love, and numbers.”
“I thank God for each and every one of them, each and every day.”
Monica smiled, and nodded. “I would, too. Believe me.” Conversation lapsed into the rhythmic, thundering beat of lake waves. “You know, I used to make wild deals with God when I was going through diagnosis. I’d promise him perfection itself if I could only hold a tiny baby in my arms and call it my own, care for it and raise it. To this day I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t do to have even a cranky, sick child of my own to take care of.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’d gladly give up a few nights sleep, rush to the doctor or make a midnight run to the pharmacy. I’d willingly sacrifice my time to teach a child to tie their shoes, or ride a two-wheeler. I would have made a good mother. Parenthood is something I’d find hard to take for granted. But then, reality comes crashing in.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Elise’s eyes had reddened, a visible testimony that she shared Monica’s pain and sense of injustice. “You could be a fantastic mother, a mother to a very lucky child. Think of what you could do for a child who was born to a woman unable or unwilling to care for it—a child who needs someone like you the most. Is there any better way to become a parent? Blood is blood, but adoption is the means to that same family end as far as I’m concerned, especially for a person like you who has so much love to give.”
“I appreciate the support you’re giving. I really do, but—”
“No but. Don’t take the love and needs you feel and push them into remission, or act like they don’t exist. That would be a horrible waste of your heart.”
“I care about Jeremy so much, but I don’t know what to do anymore. We’ve discussed the issue several times. I give him tremendous credit for being head-on about this. It’s awkward, to begin with, and it only gets worse when you know the things you need to discuss are going to make you feel, and seem, less of a woman.”
“You feel like you’re less of a woman because of infertility?”
Monica nodded. “Without question. I’m less. I’m less than he deserves, less than you’d probably hope for or expect for your son, and beyond that, I can’t escape the feeling that, on the whole, I’m just—” Monica shrugged. “Empty.”
Their footsteps slowed to a stop. Elise buried her hands in the pockets of her wool coat. For a time she studied Monica, occasionally closing her eyes to take a breath of the water-spiced air. “The only expectation, the only hope, I have for my son is his love and contentment. Whether that brings me twenty grandkids, or none, it’s all I care about. You understand that, right?”
“Without question. Your family is beautiful, Elise. I felt…I feel…honored to be included as a part of it.”
Elise smiled, and moved a few steps forward to link her arm with Monica’s. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“I hate that I got off on bad footing with you. And I wish I could be different. For him. I’d love nothing more than to give him the life he envisions.”
They resumed walking. Connected. “Well, I’m beginning to understand the battles you’ve fought. I consider it an honor that you’ve opened up to me, and I appreciate it. You weren’t what I expected, but that’s OK. I get that now. Revised perceptions and expectations are a blessing.” Elise stopped. In posture and gaze, she squared off. “Still, like I said, Monica—there are options.”
Options. Everything seemed so simple when placed within the context of that one simple word. Even so, the idea struck like hammer blows against her heart. Monica lifted her face, praying the wind would dry her tears before they fell. “Adoption again.”
“Monica, I’m not trying to pressure you, I’m just talking aloud. I haven’t gone through the anguish you have, so my perspective is different. So is my objectivity.”
The point hit its mark. Monica knew that Jeremy, with his vigor and love, would make an ideal father. How could she have failed to see that fact above everything else? Monica felt selfish, as though she had fallen victim to self-defeating fears.
“Elise, I’m a strong-minded, happy individual.”
“We definitely have that in common.”
Following a shared smile, they turned back toward the bed and breakfast. “I honestly don’t walk around feeling sorry for myself,” Monica said. “Doing so is a waste of time. I need to trust God. He led me to Jeremy for a reason. I need to trust that Jeremy and I can work this out together.”
“Sounds to me like a wonderful solution, and plan.”
“Still, there sure are days, and times, when trouble creeps up on you. Sorry you witnessed mine.”
“Understandable emotions, but in real life, you’ve got to let yourself move on, and embrace a new form of happiness.” Elise sighed heavily. “For you, it’s the kids. For me, it’s watching parades, or any kind of civic military function. To this day, I get such a wicked, burning pain in my heart when I see those gleaming, proud lineups of police officers, or fire fighters, and realize Lance, my firstborn, should have been standing right there among them. With us. The badges, the crisp uniforms, the flag. It crushes me sometimes to the point of leaving me out of breath. We should have been given the grace of celebrating Lance’s every victory.” Elise blinked and swallowed hard. She sighed. “My pain comes from a different source point, but it’s powerful; in that respect, I completely understand how you feel. You’re right. It can creep up on you out of nowhere. I guess what I’m saying is it’s only natural, so forgive yourself and try harder the next time. I know it’s the only way I’ve survived.”
Covering her mouth with a shaky hand, Monica looked into the distance, at the ice swept, silver-gray water that stretched to the horizon. Far in the distance, winter birds swooped through the sky, dotting a cloud-banked sky. “How can this whole situation keep such a strong, and terrible hold on my spirit? Ever since I’ve started going to church with Jeremy, and all of you, I’ve paid attention to what I’ve heard, and learned. I fully intend to take what I feel and keep giving it to God, but sometimes it’s like He’s just not listening.”
“He’s listening. But He’s causing you to grow as well. Growth spurts sometimes cause pain. Maybe He wants you to let go of all the bitterness, and He won’t leave the issue alone until you finally do.” Elise shrugged. “Collin, went through much the same thing after Lance’s murder, so I know the signs.”
“It’s familiar, and comfortable in its way, even if it’s bad. Is that what you mean?”
Elise chuckled wryly. “The devil you know versus embracing the unknown and all of that. Yes.”
Monica tucked her fingers beneath Elise’s, and, for the first time ever, comfortably held on tight. “I don’t want devils. I want angels. I want Jeremy. I want hope, and a future.”
Seeming bolstered by their moves forward as well, Elise took hold of both Monica’s hands now. She stopped walking, and looked hard into Monica’s eyes. “Then I’m going to speak to you like a daughter right now.” Her tone was strident. “Don’t fear the pathways God gives you. Even if they’re not what you might have expected, they’ll be full of blessings. And while you’re at it, give yourself some breathing room. Pain hits you. Accept it, roll with it, then move past it. When you’ve been hurting so badly for so long, your perspective can’t help but get skewed. Fight back. It seems to me you have more than enough spunk to accomplish that task.”
Monica diverted her eyes and her focus; Elise’s words turned over and over in her mind. Walking just ahead of Jeremy’s mom, Monica picked up a pair of smooth black rocks and tossed them into the turbulent water. “I just don’t know where to take things from here. I need to make tough choices. Life-changing choices. I need to figure out whether or not I have the fortitude to move ahead with adoption, or if I can come to terms with the emotional turmoil involved with family, infertility, and the rollercoaster ride of the adoption process. If I don’t, I can’t lie, or hide from the fact that there’s part of me that feels like I should let Jeremy go. He deserves the chance to fall in love again, and have the family he’s always dreamed of.”
Elise didn’t get overly sentimental or verbose. All she said in conclusion was: “I hear what you’re saying, and I understand. I just make three requests: First, pray. Pray for discernment—pray for an answer to the doubts you feel. Second, don’t underestimate my son.”
Silence followed. Monica paused as they entered the bed and breakfast, its warmth a welcome relief from the elements. She turned to Elise. “What’s the third request?”
Elise waited a strategic beat before answering. “Don’t underestimate yourself, either.”