Nicola Marsh - Valentine's Day

Max looked concerned. He started to put Jamie down in the crib but the baby was having none of it and started to whimper for real.

“Uh-oh,” she said, looking down at the baby lovingly. “It looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.”

“One of what nights?” Max said as he pulled him back up into his arms.

“We’re going to have to walk him.”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled at him. “You’ll see. I’ll take the first shift. You can watch and learn.” She shrugged. “Or go ahead and go back to bed,” she added, giving him an out. “Whatever.”

She changed his diapers and put on a fresh shirt and they tried putting him down to sleep again, but, just as she’d feared, he was totally awake and ready to play.

“No hope,” she said cheerfully. “He going to need some coaxing to get back to sleep.”

She pulled Jamie’s blanket around him and put him to her shoulder, then started out toward the living room. Max followed close behind, slumping onto the couch as she began to pace with the baby in her arms.

“They love this,” she told him. “The longer you walk, the happier they get.”

“But do they go to sleep?”

“Ah, that’s the question. That’s why we’re doing this. But sleep can be long in coming.” She held Jamie close and kissed the top of his head. “There were nights I spent hours walking Michelle. Luckily, I think Jamie is a better sleeper than she was. He ought to go out pretty quickly.”

He watched for a few minutes, then said quietly, “You’ve never told me much about your marriage, Cari. What was your husband like?”

“Brian?” She bit her lip. This wasn’t one of her favorite topics. “He was just a guy.”

“There’s something I’ve wondered about,” he went on. Rising, he met her on one of her passes and took her hand in his, spreading her fingers. “No rings. Why is that? As a widow, I would think you would want to have that sort of memento of your marriage.”

She stared at her own hand and nodded slowly.

“I used to have rings.”

“What happened to them?”

She looked up into his face. “I sold them.”

He narrowed his eyes, searching her face as though he wanted to understand. “You sold your rings?”

“Yes.”

Jamie began to stir, and she pulled her hand away from Max so that she could start pacing again.

“I had a beautiful wedding set with a very pretty diamond,” she went on as she walked. “But I sold them. They went to pay for me finishing college and starting on my real estate license.” She smiled at the irony of it all. “Brian never knew that he financed my new start in life.”

Max had a point about the rings. If she’d valued her marriage, she would have kept them, no matter how tight money got. But she couldn’t really grieve for Brian, not the way she knew she should. By the time he’d died, she’d known she was going to have to leave him one way or another.

He’d made life with him impossible and had pretty much killed the love she’d once had for him. When she thought about it now she couldn’t believe she’d stayed as long as she had. What had kept her with him once she’d known he was getting more and more irrational? The fear of admitting failure, she supposed.

“So you’re getting a real estate license?” he noted, interested that she would have chosen a field so close to his. “Why? Residential real estate is dead as the proverbial doornail in most areas right now.”

“I know. But real estate always comes back. And I want to be ready when that happens.”

He nodded, glad for the evidence that she was an optimist. He liked that about her.

She smiled at him. “In the meantime, I don’t mind working as a waitress. It’s honest work and I can make a decent living as long as I only have myself to take care of.”

Jamie chose that moment to begin happily making motorboat noises. They both laughed.

“It doesn’t sound like he’s falling asleep,” Max said.

“Not yet,” she replied. “It takes a while sometimes.”

“Let me take my turn,” he said, reaching for the baby. “You sit down and tell me about your marriage,” he said.

She gazed into his eyes. “Why do you want to know?” she wondered.

He touched her cheek with the palm of his hand. “Because I care about you,” he said simply. And as he said the words, he knew it was true. He’d never known a woman like Cari before, never had a relationship like this. He liked her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know more about her. That had never happened with a woman before. But it felt right.

“Sit. And talk.” He began to pace with Jamie cuddled nicely in his arms.

She sat. She usually hated to talk about the past. But tonight the words just started to flow out.

“I knew Brian for years. All through high school. I had no excuse.” She sighed. Wasn’t that the truth? It was amazing how one could delude oneself. “I knew what he was like. But I had the young girl’s syndrome, thinking love would conquer all, marriage would change him, I would change him, my love would show him the way.”

“Change him how?” Max asked.

“Change him from being a jerk, I suppose,” she said with a short laugh. “Change him into a decent person and a good husband and father. It didn’t happen, of course.”

“It hardly ever does,” he agreed.

She nodded. “Living with Brian was like living with a human geyser. You never knew what might set him off, but you knew he was going to blow. And it was over something different every time.”

Max’s tone was tense. “Was he violent with you?”

She hesitated. What was the point of going over all that? “Only a little.”

She could see the veins in Max’s neck cord and she hurried to add, “I knew where it all stemmed from. His father was an alcoholic and he had a very rough childhood. You always think that love and goodness will heal things like that. And they so seldom do. It’s just not enough to overcome the damage that sort of childhood does.”

It was funny. She’d never told anyone, even Mara, all these details. So why was she telling Max? Of all the people in the world, he was probably the one who least needed to know these things about her. But it was such a relief to tell someone about it.

“I don’t want to make it sound like unrelieved agony. It wasn’t like that at all. There were many good times. He could make me laugh. And he loved the baby.” Her voice softened as she thought of her baby. “Michelle was a perfect baby, all pink and plump and smiling. He was so proud of her. And yet…” Her voice got a little rough.

“When she cried, he would go crazy. He couldn’t stand it. It almost seemed as though he thought she was trying to get to him on purpose. He took it personally. I would do everything I could to keep her from crying.” She choked as painful memories surged. “Sometimes he would smash things,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And then he would leave.”

Max stopped in front of her, staring down. “But he didn’t hurt you? Or the baby?”

“Not…not really.” She was skimming over the truth a bit here, but she really didn’t want to dredge all that up again. “I was afraid of that, though. He would just get so irrational. There was no telling what he would do eventually. That last night, he was so angry.”

She closed her eyes as she remembered, and her voice became almost robotic.

“He grabbed Michelle and raced out to the car with her. I ran after him, pleading with him to leave her, but he threw her into the backseat and started the car up. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. I was frantic. I managed to get into the car before he had time to lock the doors. We took off down the street. I was trying to climb over the seat to get into the back to take care of Michelle when he…he…” She closed her eyes again, seeing it as though it were yesterday. “We crashed into a fence and then a tree.”