During the months that followed, my relationship with Will ebbed and flowed. We had hopeful moments, though they were fleeting, replaced by long periods of disconnect. I understood people handled grief in many different ways. And you can’t dictate to another person the right way to move through their sorrow. I needed the one person in my life who could understand what I was feeling. But he apparently didn’t need me. At least not at the moment. I turned to my parents and Sophie, of course, but it wasn’t the same. The constant gnawing pain in my heart couldn’t be consoled by hugs and a sympathetic gaze.
Will continued to immerse himself in work. Instead of being jealous and angry, I decided that if this was his way of dealing with the loss of our child I had to give him the time and space. Work made him happy and that was important to me. I eventually eased back into some semblance of a routine as I waited for my old self to reappear. A big part of me doubted I’d ever see that girl again. Losing your child changes the atmosphere forever.
We pulled up to the three-story colonial house right across the street from Charleston Harbor in the area of downtown known as The Battery. The beautiful white home was the epitome of old southern charm. Wraparound porches hugged each story complete with quaint rocking chairs welcoming visitors. The house had been in Will’s family for four generations. His parents were the current occupants. Alex, being the eldest son, was entitled to be the fifth generation to live there but that would never happen. Alex gave up his birthright the minute he walked out of rehab the first time. Mr. Forsyth made sure to notate in his will that the tradition would skip to his second son instead. One day Will and I would be holding Sunday dinners here with our children.
Before we reached the first step the front door swung open and we were greeted by the open arms of Will’s mom. Every time we came over she greeted us as if we hadn’t seen one another in years. Will worked side-by-side with his dad every day and we had Sunday dinner with his parents every other week. Whispers had swirled in the local society circle for years about Alex. I assumed Will’s mom’s grand gesture was more a show for the neighbors. Making sure that those who were within view could see the good son coming home. Thus proving that the majority of her family was indeed perfect despite the one bad apple.
As Mrs. Forsyth waited for her hug, I swear I saw her gaze shift from side-to-side checking for an audience. “There’s my handsome boy.”
“Hey, Mom.” Will kissed his mother on the cheek like any dutiful southern son would do.
“Hey, darling.” A pitiful expression crossed her face.
I was well aware of how devastated both sets of parents were when they got the news. Whereas my parents gave me love and support, Will’s mom continued to send out subtle signals of hurt and disappointment.
As I climbed the steps, Will walked past his mother and into the house.
With her head tilted in sympathy, a faint smile ghosted across my mother in-law’s shriveled bright red lips. “How are you, dear?”
“Pretty good. Thanks. How are you doing?”
She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “Let’s have a little girl chat.”
She led me over to the side of the porch toward two large white wicker rockers and motioned for me to sit.
“Bryson, you know I don’t like to meddle in my children’s lives.”
This must be something new she’s trying out.
“Will has been coming home with his father a few nights a week.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, for a while, in fact.”
I nodded and tried not to show my surprise.
“They grab a couple of beers and sit outside on the patio talking business and life. I’ve asked Will several times if everything is okay . . . at home. He says yes but a mother knows.” With pity in her eyes, she patted my knee. “You’ll understand someday . . . I hope and pray.”
Karen Forsyth had always been fairly pleasant toward me over the years I dated her youngest son. Granted it, I didn’t come in contact with her that much. And with my head being so full of Will, I never noticed her snide subtleties. Since the wedding I’d either become overly sensitive or she had gotten more ballsy. Something had definitely caused her personality to go in a different direction. The words she used weren’t offensive on their own. It was the tone of her voice coupled with her steely look that told me in no uncertain terms that she was the queen bee of the Forsyth family. I never confronted her when an insult came out draped in southern sweetness. I remained respectful and let it go in one ear and out the other. But today I wasn’t in the mood.
“With all due respect, is there a point coming?” I said as my fingers dug into the armrest.
“I’m concerned about Will. He seems restless. Unsatisfied.”
“It’s been a rough six months for both of us.”
“We were so excited for our first grandchild to arrive.” A wistful expression seeped across her crackly over-made-up face. “Gosh, when the ladies at the Junior League heard you were pregnant they immediately started planning two baby showers, one blue and one pink. They were prepared for whatever popped out. Mr. Forsyth and I were simply inconsolable when Will called us with the horrific news. Funny how we place so much hope and joy on a little one even before they enter this world.”
“Sorry to disappoint you and the Junior League.” My words were clipped.
Waving her hand, she said, “Oh, don’t worry about them. It’s Will who needs your attention. The doctor has given you the green light to start trying again, correct?”
“Yes, physically she gave me the all clear.”
“That’s wonderful. Are you making yourself available to Will?”
Squaring my shoulders, I looked directly into her dark brown eyes. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Will is my son.”
“Will is my husband. When and if we decide to try again is our business.”
“Y’all don’t want to wait too long. How old are you, hon . . . twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“I’ll be twenty-six in three months.”
“Unfortunately you lost some time but you’re still in your prime. You want to have your four children at least two years apart.”
“Will and I need to have one child before we even think about a final head count.”
She reached over, placing her hand on top of mine. “Why of course. That’s completely up to y’all. Four is a wonderful goal to aim for, though. Jonathan and I would be over the moon delighted with whatever number you settle on. It’s just we aren’t getting any younger. We want to be able to spoil our grandbabies for as long as possible. I know it’s difficult but you have to put that little hiccup behind you. Get back up on the horse.”
“I will definitely inform Will that his mother suggested I start riding him as soon as possible.” I rose abruptly, causing her hand to fall away.
“No need to resort to trashy talk, dear.” Keeping her gaze focused on the rippling waves of the harbor, she continued. “My son married you because he wants a child, a family of his own. Someone to carry on the Forsyth name. You’ve had six months of coddling. It’s time to grow up, be a dutiful wife, and give Will what he desires most.” She stood facing me with pursed lips. “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”
I held my ground—no words, no expression, no blinking. I stayed frozen in place as the sound of Karen’s heels clicking across the wooden slats faded and the front door closed. Staring out into the harbor, I wondered if between all the bitchiness from her there was some truth.
Physically nothing was stopping me and Will from trying to conceive again. But neither of us had brought up the topic. I felt we were still out of sorts. Bringing a new baby into the mix didn’t seem like the best choice. In my heart it felt disrespectful to replace our first child so soon after we’d lost him or her. I still couldn’t bring myself to read the report letting me know the sex.
After the earful from Will’s mother, I wondered if he was truly read
y to give it another try. It was possible he’d been waiting for me to bring it up, feeling it was more my call since it was my body. We’d both been wading in grief for so long, finding it hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe a bright new glimmer was what Will and I needed to reconnect.
I stayed on the porch until Will came out and got me for dinner. Sitting quietly at the large formal dining table, I pushed the food around my plate, pretending to eat, as I listened to Will and his parents discuss business and people I didn’t know. As we said our goodbyes at the front door, Karen pulled me into a slight hug, whispering in my ear to strongly consider her words from earlier. On the drive home I decided to feel Will out on the subject.
I opened my mouth to speak but it suddenly went dry and sticky. I wet my lips while thinking of my opening line.
“Your mother’s roast was really moist tonight.”
He chuckled. “That sounds wrong on so many levels.”
The words ran through my head, causing a chuckle. It felt good to share a light moment for a change.
I twisted and untwisted the strap of my purse around my finger. Glancing over at him, I was taken by how handsome he looked in the dim light of early evening. The sun was just about to disappear but still cast a warm orange glow across Will’s chiseled jawline.
“You’re so handsome.”
Small crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes as his mouth formed into an appreciative grin.
“You sweet-talker you. Now tell me what’s really on your mind.”
“What makes you think anything else is on my mind?”
“Because you either ramble or fidget when you’re nervous.”
I lifted my nose in the air, pretending to be offended. “You think you know me that well, Will Forsyth?”
“Yes. And if you have something to say you better do it now. I have work to do when we get home.”
Filling my lungs with oxygen, I started. “I know the first time was a surprise. And things didn’t work out like we’d hoped. We really haven’t talked specifics about the future. We’ve both been dealing with a lot. It’s been six months.” The words were spitting out of me like random bullets. I wasn’t even sure if they made any sense.
“Bryson, get to the point.”
“I was wondering since Dr. Jamison said it was okay, if you might want to think about trying again?”
The car fell silent. Will’s entire upper body seemed to tense.
He stole a quick glance at me and asked, “Are you ready?”
“I think it would be good for us.”
“Okay.”
That was all Will said on the subject. He didn’t act nervous, hesitant, or scared. He also didn’t act excited or happy. Even though I was used to Will’s lack of emotional displays, his reaction caught me off guard. I assumed once we broached the sensitive topic he’d break from his usual stoic self and emotions would pour out. We rode the rest of the way home in silence.
As we pulled into the driveway butterflies took flight in my stomach. After nine years together the nerves surprised me. Entering the house, it occurred to me that other than a few benign kisses and touches we hadn’t been intimate since the miscarriage. At first we couldn’t be and then somehow we just weren’t.
Standing in the dark entryway, Will and I stared at each other like strangers. I stepped closer toward him, placing my palms flat on his stomach. I ran them over his hard chest while holding his gaze. This was the longest we’d looked at each other in months. Timidly he put his hands on my hips. Even though his expression remained neutral I could feel his nerves radiate off his body. I didn’t want him to feel pressured or nervous, but the emotion did give me a sense of comfort. As if we were on the same page.
“I won’t break.” I assured him.
“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” he admitted.
“I’m nervous too.” I smiled shyly up at him.
He took in a shaky breath and brought his fingertips up to brush away the hair from my face. I took his right hand and placed it flat against my cheek. The feel of his skin on mine caused my eyes to tear up. It had been such a long time since I felt his touch. He brought his left hand up and cupped the other side of my face. His dark eyes stormed with deep emotion.
His gaze dropped to my lips. Just like flipping on a light switch, desire filled the air around us. I gripped his biceps and tugged him to me. Our lips touched and the familiar fire exploded. It didn’t take long for the kiss to go from want to need. Tongues swirled wildly as we ripped off clothes. Will pushed me against the wall. Soon we were both blindly groping at underwear.
I pushed him back slightly. “We should go upstairs.”
“Why?” He panted.
“Because I don’t want our baby to be conceived against a wall.”
“True.”
Suddenly, he dipped down and slung me over his shoulder. My squeals echoed throughout the house the entire trip up to our bedroom.
Will and I may not have made a baby that night but we definitely made our way back to each other.
One week turned into two weeks, turned into three weeks, turned into a month, then two months and still no baby. Not even a glimmer. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. We didn’t have this much sex when it was new and shiny.
Dr. Jamison couldn’t find any medical reason why we hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. Having a baby had always been an important aspect of marriage to me but it wasn’t necessarily at the top of my list, at least not until it became out of reach. I quickly got obsessed with all things baby.
My doctor suggested keeping an ovulation chart, so I bought one of those trackers from the drugstore. I was very organized with my charting. I hung large wall calendars in the three rooms I spent the most time in—the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen. I marked the kitchen calendar using a code I made up just in case we had friends and family over. No need for them to know each time I was jumping my husband.
At first tracking my cycle added a new facet to our sex life. Will looked like a deer caught in the headlights when I explained to him how the female cycle worked. I decided to leave out a lot of the technical details. I didn’t want him to be in his head too much, concentrating on charts, tracking, and ovulation schedule. Plus, he seemed to enjoy the surprise attacks.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Peggy said cheerfully.
Peggy had been with Forsyth Construction since the very beginning as executive assistant. I knew she was around the same age as Will’s parents but she looked younger than them. Her features were soft, her figure was slender, and she dressed stylishly even when I saw her in more casual settings.
“Hey, Peggy. Are you behaving yourself?”
“Well, what fun would that be?” She winked. “Let me guess, you’re here to see that hubby of yours.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
“It’s not too hard when you’ve got the look of love plastered across your face.”
My cheeks flushed with heat. If she knew the real reason I was here, I don’t think I’d be able to look her in the eye ever again.
“Is he busy?”
“Oh, this is a surprise visit. Fun. He should be in his office. Let me check.”
She pressed the button on the intercom. I smiled when I heard the sound of Will’s voice come through the speaker. “Yes, Peggy?”
“I was just making sure you were in your office. A special delivery just arrived for you.” She tossed me a knowing wink.
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “How should I know? It’s for you.” She teased.
Peggy was like the cool fun part of the Forsyth family. She showed Will the respect he deserved as her boss but wasn’t shy about being honest or joking around with him.
“Okay, send whatever it is in.”
“Go right in, special delivery.”
“Thanks, Peggy.”
My body was already in tingle mode as I walked toward Will’s office. I softly knocked on the d
oor, waiting for permission to enter.
“Come in.”
He was sitting behind his large dark mahogany desk, concentrating on the blueprints in front of him. I quietly shut the door and turned the lock. Standing in front of the desk, I slipped my phone from my pocket, and scrolled through my pictures. Since men were visual creatures I’d taken a few self-portraits in varying stages of undress recently. I’d send them to Will on the way home from work so he’d be ready once he hit the front door.
I clicked on the newest addition I had taken earlier today—on my back in our bed with over-the-knee black patent leather boots on and nothing else. I slid the phone with the sexy shot across the desk. When the photo came into view Will gripped the pen he was holding and looked up.
“Special delivery for Mr. Forsyth.”
“Have I mentioned how excited I am that you’ve taken up photography?”
I giggled.
“Wait until you experience the live show.” My hips swayed seductively as I made my way around the desk.
I had on my deep red wrap dress that molded to every curve of my body. My only accessory were the same boots from the picture.
Will twisted his chair toward me. “Bryson, what are you up to?”
Bending over, I placed my hands on the armrest of the chair, caging him in. “It’s go time, big guy.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Um . . . right now?”
I slowly nodded.
“Here?”
I continued to nod.
His gaze traveled up and down my body as a sexy grin took over his mouth. “So conceiving our child against a wall is a no-go but my office in the middle of the day is okay.”
“Do you know where you were conceived?”
“Even the most remote reference to my parents having sex right now is like dunking my dick in a bucket of ice.”
“You’re right. Sorry. Get that out of your head. You’re hot. I’m hot. We’re hot. I got the boots on.”
I snatched the phone off the desk and held it up to him.
“And dick is back,” Will said.
the Dance Page 6
