Excerpt

He carried Robert back to the crib, praying that he wouldn’t wake. Douglas then stepped from the room, remembering.

Jane had made it to well over eight months but Robert wouldn’t wait. Two weeks early he decided to leave his mother and enter the world. It was a he, and he was strong and healthy. Small, yes, and vulnerable to all sorts of potential problems, but he survived and so did she. Of course I was a complete wreck. I must have looked and acted like a fool.

Tiptoeing into his and Jane’s bedroom, he shed his clothes and slipped under the covers.

Did I do something wrong in this time, the first time? Should I make this different here, somehow? Is this why I’ve been allowed this chance? God, what?

#

“I’m going to cook us some eggs, honey.”

Waking, opening his eyes, he gazed at a pretty, young woman as she leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Coffee’s ready. Thank you for letting me get some sleep last night.”

She raised herself back up and started for the door.

“Wait, please,” Douglas said.

“What, hon?”

He was hoping for an answer, one that would stop him from worrying so much about all those things he thought about while rocking young Robert. He wanted to be sure that they would not be a factor in Jane’s health later on.

“I really want to tell you how...how beautiful you are.” As he spoke, his eyes appeared to roam, to survey her entire form.

From the sincere look on his face, she had to believe that his words were an honest assessment of his feeling. He knew they were as the baby fat was gone, her body lithe, and her face radiant.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.”

He thought that her look conveyed more guilt than gratitude.

“It’s the truth. Look, I can get the coffee. Come on back to bed. Rest. Robby might not wake up for a long time.”

He rose and pulled his robe from the closet. She waited, watching, until he had wrapped it about his naked body and tied the belt at his waist.

“I’m done with it, Doug. It’s over.”

“What do you mean, over? You mean, us?” Startled, he swallowed hard.

“No, you jerk, this pathetic ball and chain I’ve been dragging around with me for so long. I’m cutting it loose. I need to be free of it.”

He wasn’t exactly sure of her meaning but he thought of how different she had acted during the time from her first miscarriage to the present. He never held that against her. He understood it and, as best he could, lived through it—shared it with her.

“I’m sorry, Jane, help me to—”

“Doug, please. When we married, you became my first priority, even over myself. But after the first miscarriage, it started—self doubt. Then, the second time I was consumed with self-pity. Chained to that ball I became my main focus and I locked you out. I needed to fight some internal battle by myself, and to stay sane I had to win it by myself.

“I’m sure it bothered you, too, but you hurt for me; at least I know you tried to. You need to know that I didn’t love you any less during that period. Actually, I loved you more but I couldn’t show it. I wasn’t worthy in my mind.”

He wanted to respond but he knew her. He knew she wasn’t finished.

“Then we had Robby.”

She brushed away a tear, no longer looking directly at Douglas.

“And I put him first, ahead of you. Not because I loved him more, but because he needed me more. I know that you understood. I still kept you in last place, though. Things should have been getting better but I looked terrible. Depression set in and that ball grew bigger, filled with guilt and self-loathing. It became harder to drag it around with me. I’d lost my figure and I knew that you were disappointed in that. I sensed it in our lovemaking, the one or two times we did that...some time ago. I don’t know how you stood it.”

“Damn it, Jane, I never—”

Turning toward him while standing, she interrupted.

“—Let me finish.”

She faced away once more.

“Of course you wouldn’t admit that. You’re a good man, a good husband. But a wife knows these things. Anyway, I’ve worked hard to put myself back together over the last month or two, not only for you but, more importantly, for me. I want you to know that I feel much better about myself, how I look now, and I’m tired of us dealing with each other as if we’re walking on eggs. I really like myself again.

“When you said what you did a few moments ago about how I looked, I knew you were being honest. I, too, like the way I look. I hope that’s not a sin of pride.”

She backed up toward her dressing table.

“Doug, you and Robby, you’re both first among equals in my eyes, in different ways of course, but it’s true. Anyway, this morning I sensed desire in you. I’ve missed that and, well, honestly, I want to see more of it. Our boy in the other room will have my full attention soon enough. He’s asleep. He’s fine. But, right now, I want to be with you, only with you.”

Douglas rose from the bed and walked around to stand before his wife. His desire in harmony with Jane’s, he slipped the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. But she crossed her arms tight against her chest, her gown unmoving.

“I don’t want you to treat me as fragile, Doug, especially now. I don’t want us walking on eggs ever again. I won’t break, honey, I promise.”

She tugged at the belt of his robe, her gaze, demanding.

“Show me that you know I won’t break.”