Lynn Bulock - Walls of Jericho

She thumped him on the shoulder, but gently. “I meant your happiness. And anyway, in sixteen years you’d only be—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t even go there, my dear. I know it’s true, but I don’t want to be reminded.” Pulling back, he smiled, then came in to kiss her on the forehead in a very uncharacteristic, but endearing gesture. “I’ll check in next week when we get back from Branson, and bring the truck over to move the last of the boxes. I’m down to odds and ends that Gloria doesn’t want to see, I imagine.”

“Like that elk head from Canada that Mom wouldn’t let in the house, I’ll bet.”

Hank grinned. “You didn’t notice that was already out of the garage? Gloria put it in the mudroom for a hat rack. The woman has quite a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, she married you,” Claire teased. “Seriously, though, all happiness. Have a good trip to Branson.”

“We will. You two taking off now?”

Claire shook her head. “Not yet. And you know that by the time we leave it will be seven, not two. We’ve still got Laurel and Jeremy. And the boys, who are having some kind of contest with Carrie that I don’t want to know about. I just wanted to come over here and catch you while I could.”

“Good job,” Hank told her. “Of course you’d manage to come while Gloria was holding Mikayla. I’m sure that was pure coincidence.”

Gloria, hearing her name, came closer. “Coincidence, hmm? Where Claire and babies are concerned, I don’t think so, Hank. I’d offer to let you hold her, but she’s at that age where there aren’t many people, besides her mom, that she’ll go to.”

“She is a doll baby, though, isn’t she?” Claire stroked the wispy hair, not getting close enough to frighten the wide-eyed child. “Like I told Dad, all the best. And have a great time in Branson.”

“I’m sure we will.” Gloria’s eyes glowed with happiness, and possibly with a few unshed tears.

Claire wondered what kind of feelings went through a woman’s head on a second wedding day like this. It was hard for Claire to imagine.

Suddenly she had a question—for Ben. She knew it might be hours before she got her answer. But it was very important. She made her goodbyes, and found him discussing the fall football season and Friedens’s chances against their biggest rival in Union.

Some of the folks in the discussion seemed to think Trent would automatically follow his father’s lead as Friedens High School’s star quarterback. Ben didn’t disabuse them of the notion, even though he knew how Claire felt about the boys playing football. She was nervous enough that Trent would probably be on junior varsity in the fall.

When Ben slipped an arm around her, it was almost without looking—and, she suspected, without thinking. Just one of those automatic reactions because she was there.

The thought was still playing over in her mind later that same night, when she was standing at the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair before bed.

Sometimes it was very helpful to have your husband run a hardware store. Even if he didn’t have the time to do all the work himself, they could afford all the materials to keep the place in shape. She was glad that they’d done the remodeling of the old house, giving them a real master bathroom. This way she could look in the mirror and through the doorway, if the door was open, see Ben in bed stretched out the way he was now, propped up on one elbow. How somebody looked that appealing in a plain gray T-shirt was beyond her.

“Ben? Wasn’t it a nice wedding?” She put down the hairbrush and smoothed her shoulder-length waves. Still no gray among the light brown. Not everybody could say that at thirty-four.

“Nice? Sure. It was real nice.” Ben seemed to be interested in the sports magazine on the bed.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Any time.” He still didn’t lift his head from the magazine, but he was listening. That much she knew.

“I got the strangest feeling while I was at the reception watching Gloria and Dad. They looked so happy. Were we that happy?”

“Of course. We were so happy we nearly floated.”

She could see his eyes in the mirror now, behind her, looking a little puzzled. “If you knew everything then, do you think you’d still do it the same way? Getting married that young, and all?” She wanted to add that she would—in a moment. But something stopped her. Perhaps it was the silence from the bedroom.

She could hear crickets outside through an open window. And little night-peeper frogs. But no answer from her husband. “Ben?” she asked again.

“I heard you. And honestly, I don’t know.”

As Claire turned toward the bed, it was as if the foundations of her world slipped slightly, pushing her off center.

Claire sat on the side of the bed, wondering what to say. What have I gotten myself into? Was the question a prayer, or just an enquiry for her own spinning brain? She decided it had to be a prayer. She needed all the help she could get, because Ben’s answer was not the one she expected.

“You want to explain that?” Her lips felt slightly numb as she spoke.

Ben looked down at his magazine, then flipped it closed and tossed it to the floor, backing up on the pillow to give her his full attention. She wasn’t sure whether to be gratified or disturbed by the change.

“I know the safe answer would have been better, Claire. But it wouldn’t have been the truth. And we’ve always told each other the truth.” Ben’s blue eyes were frank. That was Ben. He didn’t ever pull his punches.

“If my answer upsets you, it must be because yours is different. Does this mean that you’d do it all again, the same way we did it, without any questions? Even if you knew everything you know now?”

“Ten minutes ago I would have said yes. Of course.” Claire noticed that her feet were cold. And her fingers were, too. She pulled up into a ball on the bed, tucking her toes under the hem of her cotton gown. She must have shivered, because Ben pulled her close.

She felt as if she should pull away, given their discussion. Her husband had just told her that he might not marry her again at nineteen if he had the wisdom of a thirty-five-year-old. But still, this was Ben. He had been part of her life forever, or at least since she was barely fourteen, younger than Trent. “How can you say no?” she asked through lips that were still numb.

He pulled her even closer, and Claire snuggled in to his body. She felt traitorous for seeking comfort from the very man who had upset her, but there could be no one else for her in any situation. “I didn’t. You asked if I’d do it again. And I told you the truth. I don’t know.” He rested his head back on the headboard.

“Why don’t you know?” Claire wasn’t so sure she wanted to find out, but she had to ask.

“Don’t you ever wonder?” His voice sounded almost harsh. “What if we’d waited? What if you’d finished college instead of marrying me and having Trent so quickly? Would we still be here, living in your parents’ old house, in the town we both grew up in? I know I would have kept playing college ball. Maybe even gone pro instead of coming back here to run Dad’s hardware store. Don’t you ever think that maybe we could have done better?”

Claire buried her face in his neck, feeling his arm around her, knowing she could never have done any better than this. How did she tell him that, and still answer his question honestly? They were talking about two different things.

She was asking if he loved her in the same way, if he would go through all the thrills and storms of marriage again, knowing now what no nineteen-year-old could know. He was answering with a practical thought about the rest of their life choices.