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“DO YOU WANT SOME TOAST?”
Johanna yawned as she shook her head. They had reached something of a compromise; she was getting up earlier than she had been used to, and Nelson was taking a break to come back to the house and eat with her. “No, you have it,” she said. While she was gradually getting accustomed to being upright so early in the morning, her tummy stubbornly stuck to the old schedule and she found it impossible to have anything more than coffee just yet.
Nelson pulled the plate closer and spread blackberry jam on the toast, making a layer nearly as thick as the bread itself.
“You know, I’m beginning to think that the bread is just getting in your way,” she said. “You might as well just eat the jam with a spoon, right out of the jar.”
“Don’t think I haven’t,” he said. He took a big bite, and as he chewed, a thoughtful look came into his eyes. “Virginia used to hate it when I would do that.”
Johanna stared into her coffee and took a deep breath. After only having been married a week, it was difficult to contemplate the entirety of her relationship with Nelson. Everything took on outsized significance, simply because they had so little history together. It wasn’t as if she could let a couple of days here and there fade into the larger tapestry of a decade shared with him; instead, she could only listen to him talk about Virginia, as he had for the last three days, and think Good Lord, he’s been talking about her for nearly half our marriage. “I can’t say I blame her.”
“No, me neither,” he said with a grin, taking a swig of coffee and getting to his feet. “All right, I’ve got to get back out there. The weeds are coming in something fierce this week, what with the nice weather we’ve been having.” He grabbed the rest of his toast and bent to quickly kiss her cheek before he put on his hat. “I’ll see you later.”
She nodded at him as he stepped outside, and then went to refill her coffee. Standing at the window, she watched as he headed out to the field. He was right; it looked like a nice day, but it sure didn’t feel like it at the moment. It might have been the strong coffee, or more likely the accumulated stress from the last few days, but she felt something burning in her gut as Nelson walked away.
Johanna tried not to be a jealous person. It wasn’t how she was raised. Nevertheless, she had to admit that not only was she jealous of another woman right now, but a dead one to boot. She had thought that if she could get Nelson to open up, he would get some things off his chest and they would become closer, but so far there was no sign of that. Instead, she was being educated about Virginia all day, every day. She now knew what Virginia’s favorite color had been—red—and what her favorite food was—green pumpkin, sliced and fried. At this point, it almost seemed that she knew more about Virginia than she knew about Nelson. So much for cooking and talking.
Nelson stopped in the field. He turned and stared back at the house, like he had heard Johanna’s thoughts, and then he started back.
“What’s going on?” she asked when he got back to the house and stepped inside.
“I forgot something,” he said, and in one stride he had crossed the kitchen and swept her into his arms.
She couldn’t restrain a laugh. “What are you doing?”
He kissed her properly then, holding her tight against him, his lips against hers as a delicious tingle awoke within. It left her short of breath, and she clutched his shoulders to hold herself up when he broke the kiss.
“That was a nice surprise,” she said.
He put his head close to hers and spoke quietly. “I know I’ve been going on a lot about Virginia,” he murmured. “I guess I never really had anybody to talk to about it before. I appreciate how you’re taking things.”
She sighed as she rested her head against him. She could feel the heat of his body, she could smell his shave soap, and she could feel the pulse beneath his skin. But as close as she was right now, he sometimes still seemed closer to Virginia. She hugged him tightly for a moment, then backed out of his embrace. “You should get on out there,” she said quietly. “Lots of work to do today.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I need to get ready as well. Papa’s coming for me at eight-thirty.”
He nodded, and leaned closer to kiss her; Johanna turned and gave him her cheek. She didn’t watch him go this time.
~ ~ ~
THEY LAY IN BED TOGETHER, like usual, close enough to touch, yet with an ever-widening gap growing between. Johanna waited until she was sure that Nelson was asleep, then quietly and slowly eased herself out of bed by climbing over the footboard. She put on her slippers and padded softly out to the hall, closing the bedroom door behind her.
When she opened the oven, she found that the coals were still warm. She coaxed them back to life with some paper shreds and placed the teakettle over the fire. The last time she had seen her mother, Alma had given her some bergamot tea, saying that it helped with feminine problems. Johanna was hoping this counted.
While she waited for the water to boil, she sat in her normal spot. It was dark except for the flicker of the flames beneath the kettle, and there was a chill in the air, but she barely felt it. She was starting to become numb.
What have I come to when I’m just as lonely in bed with my husband, as I am sitting by myself? There was no answer, and she sat staring blankly into the gloom until she heard the water boiling. She dropped a large pinch of tea into the pot and poured the hot water over it, then took it with her cup to the table. The fragrance, sweet and peppery at the same time, filled the kitchen and she leaned closer to the teapot to inhale.
If Nelson were to smell this, he’d probably tell me some story about how Virginia used to drink tea. Then he’d start on a whole explanation of her beverage-drinking habits. She buried her face in her hands. What if he never puts this behind him? What if he’s not strong enough to get over her? A week of this was one thing. She could handle that. But what about a month? Come autumn, would she still be sneaking out of bed to drown her sorrows in solitary tea? What if things hadn’t changed in a year?
When am I supposed to decide that enough is enough? The question flared in her mind like a gaslight in the darkness, illuminating what had been unclear before, and she felt a sensation inside like her heart had dropped away. What I’m really wondering is when I should leave him. That’s what this is really about.
Johanna glanced toward the closed bedroom door, as if to make sure that her thoughts couldn’t reach Nelson now. She felt short of breath, and her arms had become covered with goose pimples, although it surely wasn’t from the night air. I can’t believe I’m thinking about leaving my husband already. She slumped onto the table, crossing her arms and hiding her face in the crook of her elbow.
I never should have brought her up in the first place, she told herself. She’s dead. I should have left her that way. She sat up and poured herself a cup of tea, pulling it close and wrapping her hands around it to soak up the heat. She still felt chilled. Or even better, I wish she had never even been his wife.
Many times in her life, Johanna had heard a little voice come to her. Sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but on occasion just at the right time, like a reply to her own thoughts. She heard that voice tonight.
If it hadn’t been for Virginia, you never would have even met Nelson, the voice said. For better or worse, you needed her. And now Nelson needs you. The real question isn’t whether he’s strong enough to get past this. The question is whether you’re strong enough to help him. And if you’re willing to give up after only a week—if you’re willing to walk out because you had a few difficult days—well, then that’s going to be your fault. Not his.
Virginia felt her eyes beginning to burn, and she brushed away some tears. She had to admit, one week seemed like slim consideration of the vows she had taken. A lot had changed in the last seven days; the next seven might bring changes just as dramatic.
And what if the situation were reversed? What if I lost my parents, for example, and I needed the love and support of my husband? Would I expect him to try for one week and then cut me loose? It felt like her heart would tear apart even just from thinking about it. She may not have known everything about her husband yet, but she was pretty sure that he’d be there for her a heck of a lot longer than a week.
Johanna clasped her hands and said a quick prayer, thanking God for the guidance and asking for strength in the days ahead. As hard as she’d been trying to heal her relationship with Nelson, she was certain that she could try harder still.
She sat there, drinking tea and thinking, and her eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light. It neither seemed so dark nor so cold as it had only a little while earlier, and it was time to get back to her husband.
Johanna tiptoed into the bedroom and eased back into bed, barely making a noise before she settled in behind Nelson again. She slipped her arm around him and cuddled close. She softly kissed the back of his neck and pressed her head against him. “Take the time you need,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
In his sleep, Nelson murmured something too soft to hear, and his body jerked, as if he were having an unpleasant dream. It wasn’t until his hand found hers that he quieted and slept calmly after that.