Carole Page - Decidedly Married

Julie agreed, relieved that the revelation of her pregnancy had gone so smoothly and that Michael had taken it so well. They would be married and their child would have a normal home. Wasn’t that what she wanted?

And yet somewhere deep inside she felt a keen sense of disappointment—it was irrational, she knew—but it was there just the same. She and Michael had lost something precious, something they were just on the verge of finding. They had skipped some vital, foundational step in the larger scheme of things. Their relationship was no longer about the two of them and how they felt about each other; it was about what kind of parents they would be to their unborn child.

Julie hadn’t realized until years later, perhaps not even fully until now, how much she had missed the romance and thrill of a traditional courtship. Instead of bringing her roses and whispering words of adoration in her ear, Michael had brought her ads for cribs and layettes and talked about the house they would buy and the nursery they would decorate. She had never been quite sure whether Michael was more in love with her or with the baby she was carrying. And the question that plagued her most of all: would he have loved her enough to marry her if there hadn’t been a baby?

That question had haunted her all the years of her marriage, and, God help her, it still haunted her. Every time she watched Michael and Katie playing Rook or Monopoly or tennis together or laughing and joking in the easy, comfortable way they had with each other, she couldn’t help thinking, He loves her more than me. He married me so that he could have her in his life.

And now those old, nagging suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Michael had found another woman—Beth, whoever she was; some conniving witch named Beth. Maybe she would become the love of his life that Julie had never quite managed to be, for she had always felt a certain reticence with Michael, a reservation about giving herself too wholeheartedly to a man who didn’t love her enough.

It was a fear—primal, unarticulated—submerged somewhere at the deepest level of her subconscious: this fear of giving herself unreservedly to a man who didn’t want her. She had learned the lesson early, at her father’s knee. The childhood memories had dimmed in her mind to hazy, shadowed images, like fine stationery that has yellowed with time, flimsy as butterfly wings, the ink faded to pale, indecipherable scrolls.

But, for Julie, the memories still stung. Somewhere inside, at a core that could no longer be touched, she still recognized herself—a boisterous, exuberant youngster running with girlish glee to her daddy, expecting him to swing her up in his arms and tell her he loved her. But her father had been too busy to give her a hug, too preoccupied with his own problems to play with her or read her a story, too closemouthed to tell her he loved her. Throughout her childhood, his stock-in-trade answer was, “Can’t you see I’m busy, Julie? Go see your mother.”

“He loves you, baby,” her mother always assured her. “He just has a hard time showing it.” Her mother always had an excuse for her father’s lack of affection and attention. “You know how he’s been since he lost his job…you know how hard he has to work to put food on the table…you know he doesn’t say much, Julie—that’s just his nature…you can’t change him, Julie. He’s not a demonstrative man, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t there.”

“Who were you kidding, Mama—you or me?” said Julie as she pulled the plug on her bath water. The bubbles were gone now, the water tepid, and she was still sneezing. “You were always making excuses for Daddy, but I stopped believing them a long time ago.”

She felt the bitter irony as she wrapped herself in a thick, velvety towel. Growing up, she had dreamed of marrying a man who would give her the kind of boundless, unconditional love she had never received from her father. But the inauspicious circumstances of her relationship with Michael had ruined that possibility. She would always feel that he had married her out of a sense of duty—not because she was the one great love of his life.

And now there was this new complication: Beth.

Julie dusted herself with her most expensive body powder and slipped into a soft, clingy negligee. She took another decongestant and put on enough makeup to brighten her brown eyes and bring out the roses in her cheeks. She was running a brush through her saffron curls when she heard the door open downstairs. Her heart quickened. Michael—he’s home already!

Then she heard Katie’s voice calling up the stairs, “Mom, I’m home’ Where are you?”

“Up here,” Julie called back, pulling on her long, silk robe, stifling her disappointment.

Katie took the stairs two at a time and came sashaying into the bedroom looking disquietingly blissful. Her hair was mussed, her face glowed, and her glossy, cranberry red lipstick was gone—telltale signs that she and her new boyfriend of the moment had been necking. Or what did they call it these days? Making out? Macking? Playing tonsil hockey?

“Did Jesse enjoy the youth group?” Julie inquired.

“Yeah, he thought they were cool.”

“Sounds like you think Jesse is pretty cool,” noted Julie.

“He is He’s totally hot, Mom.”

Julie shivered, but it wasn’t a chill from her bath; it was prompted by the expression of rapture on her daughter’s face. I know that look, Julie thought. She’s in too deep. She’s heading for trouble and doesn’t even know it “I hope you’re not getting serious about this boy,” she said, weighing her words. “You’ve just met him.”

“What if I am?”

“You hardly even know him.”

“That’s not true, Mom.” Katie twisted a strand of her long, burnished hair. “I’ve known Jesse since eighth grade. And we’ve been hanging out together for weeks now. He’s so rad.”

“Then how come you never brought him home to meet your dad and me?”

Katie shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t like him.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

“He’s not exactly the college preppie-type of guy you want me to date.”

Julie inhaled deeply. If she wasn’t careful, this discussion would deteriorate into a bitter clash of wills. “Katie, college isn’t the issue here. Your friend Jesse told me he’s not even planning to graduate from high school. What kind of future—?”

“Mom, why can’t I just have fun today and let the future take care of itself?”

These were Julie’s own words from so many years ago, smacking her in the face. “Because life doesn’t work that way.”

Katie folded her slender arms defensively. “I’m a teenager, Mom. I’m not ready to get all serious and gloomy about life like you and Dad.”

“Is that how you see us?”

“Isn’t it? You’re always working. You never have any fun. I don’t even think you guys like each other anymore.”

Julie winced, she felt a sudden impulse to strike back. “That’s enough, young lady. I won’t have you bad-mouthing your dad and me.”

“I’m not,” protested Katie. “Just let me live my own life, Mom. Don’t be such a control freak, okay?”

“Sure, I can let you do whatever you please, but when you get into trouble, who are you going to come running to to bail you out?”

“Please, Mom, not another one of your lectures on sex. I’m not going to get into trouble What do you think I’m going to do—get pregnant like you did and make some guy marry me? No way, Mom!”

Julie felt the blood drain from her face She reached out and pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself.

Katie looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Mom. You must know I’ve known for ages you and Dad had to get married. I’m not stupid. All I had to do was the math. You were married five months before I was born. Come on, it’s no big deal.”