Wesley Philips was making his own plan for a campaign to persuade his wife that their amazing relationship could only be enhanced with the addition of a child, or children. This had not always been for him the fixation it had become in recent weeks. He had been quite content with his lovely Zoe and the beautiful home and absorbing work lives they shared.
He thought the change in his feelings had something to do with events in Mexico.
Being immersed in the family of Aylward and Marian Beck had awakened a sense of generations, the future, his own mortality and a host of other unexpected emotions.
He thought back to his own childhood and the many times he felt alone. His parents were social workers, heavily involved with community projects and troubled clients who required a great deal of their time. Young Wesley was often left in the care of a sitter, a pleasant older lady who read to him then watched television until it was time to prepare a meal or get him ready for bed. He had little to do with children his age until he went to school. It was there he began to understand his inadequacies.
He did not know how to share, which, according to his teachers, was a dreadful crime.
He was afraid of the girls in his class who spoke up confidently and pushed him aside to get to where they chose to be. These girls were a foreign tribe to him for many years. It was not until he reached Year Four in primary school that he found himself paired with another ‘nerdy, geeky type’, as they were referred to by the majority of their classmates. Wesley did not understand these terms but he did understand Max. They clung together to the exclusion of everyone else. In fact they might have been the only students in class. They met in the playground and talked endlessly about their interests. Chess, mathematics (particularly magic squares), science, robotics, space travel and favourite television channels were their métier and they had all the time in the world to explore and share their discoveries.
It had been a wondrous thing for Wesley to find a friend and his confidence grew by leaps and bounds from that time forth. Max spurred him on to excellence and Wesley returned the favour. In their last year of primary school they scooped all the prizes and sailed on to higher education as a matched pair with acknowledged genius abilities and unstoppable ambitions.
Eventually their paths divided. Wesley went on excel in the fields of Psychology and Psychotherapy while Max became a renowned space scientist working at NASA. Their friendship never wavered as their lives diverged. One phone call and they were back to the private, shorthand language of their youth.
Max’s wife, Alecia, was no more able to comprehend their conversations than was Zoe. The women could only shake their heads in wonder.
Max and Alecia were the parents of three girls and one boy now. They were happily settled in the States and Wesley had not seen them for some years.
Wesley Philips had not thought back to those early years for a very long time. He leaned back in his chair, wondering where all these memories had sprung from. Could it be a throwback to his old rivalry with Max? Was it because a patient had cancelled her appointment and left him with unexpected time on his hands? Or was it a mental reminder that it was his duty to create a child and give that child the kind of home environment he had missed?
His heart thudded in his chest at the thought of a child shared with Zoe. A surge of longing welled up in him. He skipped over the preliminaries and saw himself with their child in his arms and Zoe smiling beside him.
The vision was so real he had to close his eyes and tell himself to breathe calmly. He understood the power of visions, in a textbook kind of fashion, but he had never before experienced such a thing.
It was like a message from the universe; a message that must not be ignored. His logical mind sought to erase the vision. He was not some impressionable young man. He was a mature, responsible doctor who had counselled others to deal with realistic expectations and solid evidence, yet, here he was enmeshed in emotions that seemed more real than the chair in which he was seated.
This was frightening. He stood abruptly and knocked his glasses onto the floor, almost standing on them as he moved toward the office door. This restored some semblance of normality to his brain.
This is no way for a therapist to behave. I have to get a grip on myself. It’s all very well for me to have these ideas but nothing can happen without Zoe’s participation. I have to talk to her. And soon.
Wesley Philips arrived at Dunstan’s Close and felt his beating heart calm immediately. Just approaching along the tree-lined path reduced his blood pressure by several points. The building had that effect on him every time. He unlocked the front door, intending to make himself a cup of tea before he set his plan in motion but when he lifted the kettle to fill it, he felt its warmth.
Someone was here. It was unlikely that Zoe had come home early without telling him. Was she sick?
He ran upstairs to check their bedroom. The bed was empty and undisturbed. This was becoming
worrisome. Was there an intruder in the house? Not likely an intruder stopped to boil a kettle, he thought.
He decided to investigate further, tiptoeing around listening for unusual sounds. After some minutes, he heard the noise of a chair scraping on the floor behind the door of the small office. He picked up a walking stick from a container near the tower staircase and holding it in a defensive position he thrust open the door and found himself face-to-face with his wife.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why are you creeping around like a burglar?”
“You scared me half to death!”
“I thought you were at work.”
“I thought you were at work!”
As soon as the first shock had worn off, relief took its place and Wesley lifted Zoe onto his knees in the only chair in the room and patted her back.
“My darling girl, I think we each had a need to come home. Our minds are so attuned to each other that we came to the same place at the same time.”
He took a deep breath and gently kissed her cheek. “Are we thinking there’s something important we have to discuss?’
“You first,” she murmured.
“All right, then. I want to have a baby with you, my beautiful Zoe.”
The breath that he had just used was gone and he stopped inhaling so as not to miss a tiny syllable of her reply. Seconds ticked by. The silence in the room deepened.
Zoe snuggled down into his embrace and the whole story of her doubts and fears tumbled out in rapid succession while Wesley tried to keep up with breathing and thinking and remembering all at once.
When she finally ran out of words and quivered to a stop, he waited to be sure she was finished, then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“I didn’t know it till recently. I had to think it through myself first. Are you angry with me?”
He kissed the top of her head and replied, “Never! my darling wife. Never!”