50 Harbor Street

Page 38

Her life assumed an unsettling routine. Jon woke by seven, came downstairs and put on coffee, then went back upstairs to dress Katie. After giving Katie her cereal, he brought Maryellen a cup of herbal tea. They tried to spend a few minutes together with Katie before he took her to Kelly’s. It was early spring, so ferns and early flowers were starting to emerge, and the opportunity for interesting nature shots was at its prime. Jon was often away from the house for hours. He needed to work in order to earn the money they desperately needed.
Maryellen knew he didn’t want her to worry about finances—as if that could be avoided. Naturally she was concerned. Without her working, they were forced to live on a single income. Jon’s sales increased every year, but he wasn’t yet at the level where he could support himself, let alone a wife and two children. Maryellen had encouraged him to quit as chef for The Lighthouse restaurant and devote himself to his career. Her plan had worked well until now.
The front door opened and Maryellen set aside the novel she was reading. Her attention had been wandering all morning; the hours dragged on endlessly. Jon walked into the house carrying the backpack in which he kept his camera equipment.
“I’m home.”
She tried to smile.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he slipped off his boots.
“Cranky,” she moaned. “You can’t imagine how awful it is to stay in bed like this.” Every place she looked, there was something that needed to be cleaned or finished, folded or put away. Jon tried, but he couldn’t manage everything on his own.
“How about if I make lunch?” he suggested.
“I’m not hungry.” She appreciated the offer and knew Jon was trying to please her. The fact was, she didn’t have much of an appetite these days. Why would she? The most exercise she got was walking to the downstairs bathroom and Dr. DeGroot had suggested she cut back on those visits as much as possible.
“You barely touched your breakfast,” Jon reminded her. He sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes revealing tenderness and care. “I’ll make your favorite—a toasted cheese sandwich and tomato soup.”
She smiled; for his sake she’d try to take a few bites.
Jon kissed her cheek and moved into the kitchen. “Did anyone phone while I was out?”
“No.” Maryellen crossed her arms. For the first couple of weeks, she’d received daily calls from Lois, needing advice or guidance. Those calls had stopped. Apparently her assistant, or one-time assistant, was comfortable as manager of the gallery now. Her mother usually tried to call during her lunch hour, and Maryellen was thankful for the distraction. But the library was often hectic around noon and her calls had dwindled down to maybe three a week.
“Did you hear from your mom?” Jon asked as if reading her thoughts.
“Not today.” Grace helped Maryellen as much as possible. Her mother, however, had a life of her own. Now that she was engaged to Cliff, Grace spent every spare minute with him. Maryellen wasn’t sure when the wedding was scheduled to take place. Soon, she suspected. It was doubtful she’d be able to attend, which depressed her further.
“My vacation pay is up this week,” she said as Jon came back five minutes later with a tray. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but it was important her husband realize there’d be no more checks. She worried constantly about the fact that they were about to take a financial freefall. Worse, they’d have to pay the medical insurance premiums, which were hefty. Maryellen felt grateful to have some continuing coverage from her job, but the benefits were limited.
“I know,” Jon said as if it meant nothing. “We’ll manage.”
“How?” She gazed at the diamond ring he’d given her for Christmas. How she wished he’d put that money in the bank, instead. They were on the brink of financial ruin, and here she was, sporting a huge diamond ring.
“Where’s your faith, Maryellen?”
“My faith?” she repeated. “In you? In God?”
“In both,” he stated calmly. He rested the tray of soup and sandwiches on her lap and sat next to her. “I know this is hard, sweetheart, but we’ll be fine.”
Maryellen had taken over the bill-paying and she wasn’t sure Jon grasped how tight things really were. How close they’d already come to not meeting their obligations—and now with the insurance premiums to pay…
“Only thirteen more weeks until the baby’s born.”
If he meant that to be encouraging, it had the opposite effect. Thirteen weeks sounded like forever.
“Eat,” he said, pushing the cheese sandwich toward her.
For the baby’s sake, Maryellen took one small bite. Then another. Jon had to coax her every time. She didn’t mean to be such a problem, and sighed, feeling wretched. Caught up in her own miseries, she hadn’t noticed that Jon’s mood wasn’t any better than her own.
“Is everything okay, honey?” she asked anxiously.
His face immediately relaxed as if to reassure her. “Of course.”
“You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”
“I would,” he promised.
But Maryellen had to wonder. And the more she did, the guiltier she felt. “I’ve been horrible all day, haven’t I?”
“Not at all.” He dismissed her question with a shake of his head.
“I have, and don’t tell me otherwise.”
Jon grinned, but Maryellen could tell it was forced.
“Tell me,” she insisted.
He shrugged. “Why? So you’ll be more depressed?”
“Jon,” she cried. “We’re a couple—a team. We shouldn’t hide the way we feel from each other. Communication is the key. You’re the one who told me that, remember?”
She set the tray aside, unable to eat any more.
Jon looked away from her and into the distance. “I went to see Seth Gunderson about working part-time. We could use the money, and I don’t care what hours he gives me.”
Maryellen hated the thought of Jon postponing his photography, but they were going to need a steady income.
“Seth was pleased to see me. He said he’d take me back anytime.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?”
“It was—until I found out the only hours available were at night.”
“Oh.” Maryellen couldn’t cope with Katie alone.
“Seth understands I need daytime hours, and he said he’d talk to the day chef and see if he’d be willing to trade shifts for a while.”
“That would be wonderful.” Maryellen tried to sound positive. At the same time, she realized that if Jon worked all day he wouldn’t have a chance to continue his commercial photography business. It was a lose-lose proposition.
“We’ll be just fine,” he said again, but the comment fell flat.
Maryellen swallowed hard. “Would you hold me for just a moment?” she asked. Everything seemed better when she was in her husband’s arms. There she found comfort and peace. With her head against his shoulder, she could anticipate the future and remember that at the end of this enforced rest, they’d have a second child. Katie would have a little brother or sister. A little more than three months from now, this would all be over. What she needed to do was keep her gaze focused on the future and not their present circumstances.
Jon’s hand caressed her back, and she sighed, content for the first time that day. “I’ve been thinking,” she murmured, carefully broaching the subject.
“That’s a dangerous sign.”
Maryellen felt her husband’s smile. “I’ve been trying to come up with another way. We need help, Jon.”
“I’m managing.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “and you’re doing a wonderful job. But it’s only been three weeks, and you’re already exhausted. Taking care of Katie and me, cleaning the house, shopping, cooking, plus trying to work and sell your photographs. You’re worn out.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what would happen if he added a forty-hour week at The Lighthouse to his schedule.
“You think I’m tired, do you?” He nuzzled her neck, but it was more affectionate than provocative. Anything remotely sexual was off limits until six weeks after the birth.
Maryellen hugged him close. “You are tired. I am, too.”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“We do know people who could help.”
He knew immediately who she meant. “If you’re going to suggest what I assume you are, then save your breath.” Jon broke away from her and stood up.
“Jon, would you please be reasonable about this?”
“You want me to call my parents.”
That was exactly what she wanted. “They’d leap at the opportunity to spend some time with us.” His father and stepmother were desperate to win back his love and would do anything to help if the chance arose.
“I’m not asking them for a damn thing,” Jon said forcefully, “and I absolutely forbid you to contact them.”
“Forbid?” she repeated, raising her eyebrows. “Forbid?” The temptation to retaliate in anger nearly overwhelmed her, but she maintained a calm facade. When she spoke, Maryellen chose her words carefully. “I’m going to ask you to rephrase that, Jon, because I have to believe you didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
Her husband started pacing. “Forbid wasn’t a good word. I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then walked to the picture window that overlooked Puget Sound. “But knowing how I feel about them, I would hope you’d take that into consideration.”
“I already have.”
His back was to her, his hands in his pockets. “Have you been in touch with them?”
Maryellen sighed. “I mailed the last photos you took of Katie and included a note that said I was pregnant.”
“When?”
“At Christmas.” Then she remembered she’d also sent a thank-you note. “I…I wrote after Christmas, too—a short note to thank them for the gifts.” Even then she’d felt guilty, as though with this small act of kindness she was somehow betraying her husband.
Jon turned to face her. “At one time I needed my parents and they failed me. I vowed I’d never ask them for help again.”
Maryellen knew what was coming.
“I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Maryellen. I’d rather work twenty hours a day than ask my parents to lift a finger to help me. I simply won’t do it.”
The decision was his, and nothing she could say would change his mind. “Okay.”
He eyed her skeptically. “Are you angry with me?”
She shook her head. “No, you said it earlier—we’ll be fine.”
“You won’t go behind my back?”
She’d done that once and regretted it. “No.”
Jon came back and sat down next to her. “It’s no wonder I love you as much as I do. You and Katie are the best thing that ever happened to me.”