Christopher Nicole - Her Name Will Be Faith

“Come on in, Mom, it’s lovely,” Owen Michael called from the swim pool.

“It’s a bit early in the year for me,” Jo replied from her lounger.

“Don’t know why I bust a gut putting in solar heating,” Big Mike groused. “No one seems to use the pool any more often.”

“We do,” Tamsin shouted.

“Huh? You two used to break the ice to get in. Hasn’t made a cent of difference to you,” their grandfather retorted.

Reluctantly, Jo heaved herself up and went to the edge of the pool to dip a toe in. “Hey, that’s quite warm.”

“Fooled you,” Big Mike grinned. “The heating isn’t even on today.”

Jo dived, her slim body slicing through the water under the children to tickle their feet and bring shrieks and squeaks as they splashed to get away.

“Shame Michael isn’t here,” Babs murmured. “I thought he was only going to race every other weekend?”

“Yep. Something wrong there. You can see it in Jo’s face,” Big Mike replied in a low voice. “It’s my bet he means to do the Bermuda Race again this year.”

“Oh, no! Do you really think so, after his promise to come to Eleuthera?”

Jo swam back to where they were sitting, kicked her legs and bounced up to perch on the pool edge beside them. “That’s just super. Have you really turned off the solar panel?”

“Not off,” Mike explained. “I’ve switched it to heating the house water alone. The weather’s been so warm recently the pool hasn’t needed it.”

“We’ve had a record spring,” Babs remarked. “Temperature-wise, anyway.”

“Jo! Why’s Michael up in Newport this weekend? Is he preparing Esmeralda for the Bermuda race after all?” Big Mike was not renowned for his tact: if he had a question he usually asked it.

Babs flushed and waited.

“Yes,” Jo replied, not looking at them. She had not meant to discuss Michael with them — no doubt he would tell them his plans when he was ready. Besides, she had not wanted to think about Michael since Thursday afternoon. She still couldn’t make up her mind whether she was glad or sorry that navy flier had walked in on them. He had been as embarrassed as they, but the ice had soon been broken, and they had sat around chatting and drinking coffee and beer until four. That he had been an old friend of Richard’s had been sufficient to make him a friend of hers. That he was Richard’s secret source of information about the weather made him an absorbing personality, especially when he had talked about the long, weary hours flying over the Atlantic, investigating every piece of cloud cover for signs of that circulation which would mean warm air rising too fast for safety.

And while he had talked, she and Richard had glanced at each other, the physical desire slowly subsiding, to be replaced by what? She wasn’t sure. When she had realized the time and hurriedly left, he had come with her to the door. “I’m real sorry about that,” he had said. “Can we meet again? Mark will only be here a couple of days.”

“I’ll call you,” she had promised. But she hadn’t yet. Mark might still be there, and besides… it had never occurred to her in her wildest daydreams that she would ever cheat on her marriage. Even if that marriage was over? That was something she had to be certain of.

“Oh, dear.” Babs’ tone was indicative of her concern; she was well aware of the implications of Michael’s absence.

Jo felt their eyes on her, knew they were itching to learn if the old wounds had been reopened — if they only guessed at the truth they would have a fit. But they would have to be told something. The children were at the far end of the pool, racing from one side to the other, splashing and shouting. “Yes,” she admitted. “We did have another quarrel, a big one, Wednesday night. When he told me he’d decided to race after all. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner — I thought he’d have done it himself. Maybe I was hoping he’d change his mind back again.”

“Perhaps he will,” Babs ventured.

Jo shrugged her wet shoulders and said nothing.

“Well…” Mike shook his head. “You knew he was a keen sportsman before you married, and if this is the way he wants it to be…” He paused, lamely.

“Quite. And he knew I was a keen journalist. Only I’ve kept my side of the bargain and cut back my work. So where do we go from here?” She wondered if they could help her solve her dilemma, even if inadvertently.

Alarm bells were sounding in Babs’ brain. “Oh, my dear, I’m quite sure something can be worked out.”

“What?” Mike asked.

Jo looked from one to the other. “If you can come up with some good suggestions, I’m all ears.”

“Can’t you discuss it together…” Babs started.

“We have. And it always ends in a slanging match.” When your son doesn’t actually hit me, she thought, but she wasn’t going to tell them that.

They sat silently watching the children. The sky was an uninterrupted blue, but for the birds which occasionally swooped from the branches of one pine to the next. Gazanias and mesembrianthemums spread their colorful petals to embrace the warmth while bees hummed a ballet over the borders.

Mike rolled his feet off the lounger and stood up. “When’s he coming home? I’m going to talk to him.”

“I’ve no idea,” Jo said. “We’re not exactly communicating at the moment. But anyway, it’s a waste of time. He’ll know I’ve told you, and he’ll accuse me of running up here whining to you.” She tipped her weight forward, flopped into the pool, and swam to the far end and back, long, lazy strokes with the minimum of splash. She leaned her arms on the coronation and looked up at Mike and Babs, seeing the anxiety in their eyes. “I’m sorry. So sorry. He says it’s all my fault, and naturally, I think it’s his. I suppose we just have to accept that we’re not compatible.”

“Compatible, shit,” Mike growled. “Don’t give me that. Folks are as compatible or incompatible as they make up their minds to be. Look…” He sat on the edge of the lounger again, leaning towards her. “Don’t get me wrong. I think he’s behaving like a lousy son of a…” He threw Babs an apologetic grin. “Louse, breaking his promise, but dammit, it is his life, and if he wants to spend all his leisure time sailing…”

“He should never have got married in the first place,” Jo interrupted bitterly. “He’s like someone who buys a puppy to fuss over and pamper, and then abandons it when he gets bored or it proves too much trouble. Michael is bored with marriage, with me, and with his children.”

“Oh, Jo! That’s not fair!” Babs protested.

“Okay, maybe I’m wrong. But you tell me why he wants to spend so little time with us?” She could feel tears starting to sting her eyes.

“Well, you know how much he loves Esmeral…” Babs’ voice was gentle and coaxing.

“You’re damned right I do. More than home, family, children… more than anything. Maybe I should just let him get on with it, and offer up grateful thanks to God for the few times he does spare us a little of his company. Well, I’m sorry, folks, but that’s not my idea of a marriage. I didn’t marry Michael just to be his maid, valet, bear him children, and be available for his sexual satisfaction whenever he requires it. I want a companion, too, to share things… like our children, holidays, the fun there is in life doing things that families do together.” She scrambled out of the pool, grabbed her towel, and rushed up to the house to shower… and weep.

When she reappeared, made up and smiling in a pretty sun suit, Babs jumped up and ran to put her arms round her. “Dearest Jo, we all do love you so much. Please don’t give up, please. Anyway, don’t let it get you down. We’ll all have a talk with Michael, and maybe… if you’ll just be patient.”