That night, after the children were tucked in for the night, Ace and Elyse shared a glass of wine and talked about their respective day’s activities.
Ace was telling her about some new African artifacts Omar had sent from Cameroon.
“Very colorful attractive masks, vases and urns, and this time Omar sent a large batch of textiles.”
“I can see you’re very pleased.”
“I am. New material always brings in customers, and that’s good for business.”
Elyse put her wine glass down on the coffee table in front of the sofa where she sat. From his comfortable leather chair nearby, Ace looked at his wife. His skin prickled and he sensed that Elyse had something on her mind.
“What’s up, hon? Something botherin’ you?”
“I want to go back to work at the store,” she blurted out.
“You do? How long have you been thinking about that?”
She took a sip of wine before answering him.
“I miss the store, Ace, I really do, and . . . so far everything’s been going well. But . . .”
“How about Ajay?”
“I was thinking about Building Blocks. They take infants, and Ajay is almost eight months old, crawling, and I think he’s going to be walking soon.”
“I don’t know, Elyse. I’m not sure he’s ready for daycare.”
“Why? It’s a great place for the children. The staff is well qualified, and Missy has always loved it.”
“I’m not sure about sending Ajay to daycare just yet. I kinda thought you wanted to be home with him awhile longer. He’s only eight months old, Elyse.”
“Ace, I know how old he is. I brought him into the world, remember?”
“Of course I know that, but I thought you wanted to be a stay-at-home mother.”
“Ace! How could you think that? You know how much the store means to me! I’ve put my total inheritance in it, and I love it. I really do. I thought you understood.”
“I figured that motherhood was what you wanted. You went to many lengths to have Missy, as I remember.”
Stunned by the sarcasm in her husband’s statement, Elyse’s jaw dropped. She had not expected this reaction and realized that they were having their first major disagreement.
Suddenly it became clear to her.
“Ace, you said you loved Missy, but here you are, making a difference.”
“I’m not making a difference. The difference is evident!” he blurted out. “Ajay is my biological child and Missy is not! It’s only natural for me to feel different about each of them. One has my genes and the other . . . well . . .”
“Well what? I’m supposed to give my child away? I had the same pains to deliver your son as I had with my daughter!”
“Elyse, you know how much I adore Missy, I was there when she was born, but . . .”
“You’re jealous of Barry. Admit it, Ace!”
“Guess I am. I see his face in his child and I know he must have been a vital part of your life for you to have his child the way you did. Honestly, Elyse, I’m envious of every moment that you shared your life with someone else.”
“You needn’t be, Ace. That chapter of my life is closed. And now it is up to us to make our lives and our family’s life what we want it to be.”
“I know that.”
“I do love you, Ace, with all my heart. But my loving you means that you accept all of me. And that means my daughter and my ambition to manage a business. I have an MBA from Harvard that gives me the credibility . . .”
Ace interrupted her, his beryl-green eyes flashing with indignation. “So, you have more education than I have, just a degree from art school . . .”
Elyse shook her head.
“Ace, I would never, ever belittle you. You have more artistic ability than most people. You are a truly gifted artist, and I respect that. I’m only trying to tell you that I cannot be a whole person unless I can follow the path that feeds my soul. Could you live without art? Think about it.”
She stood up, the half-empty wine glass still on the coffee table.
“I’m going to bed. See you in the morning. Good night.”
* * *
Ace watched his wife walk out of the living room. He sighed deeply, realizing they had just had their first disagreement. He wondered if he had been wrong resisting her wish to return to work. They had never discussed her return to the Kwanzaa Store. He had assumed total motherhood was what she wanted. How could he have been so mistaken? She seemed so happy in her role as a mother, even including Holly and Branch.
He drained the last of his wine and rose from his chair. He picked up Elyse’s half-empty glass and went into the kitchen to wash them, turned them over on the drain to dry. He stood for a few more moments thinking about this impasse. One thing he knew for certain, he wanted Elyse to be happy.
He walked down the hall, went into the living room to turn off the lamps and then checked the doors. As he mounted the stairs to their bedroom, he murmured a prayer. Please, God, help me make the right decision.
Before going to bed, Elyse checked on her sleeping children. Was she wrong in wanting to return to the store, even part time? she thought as she tucked them in. Missy was a squirmer and, as usual, her bedclothes were askew. She replaced them and wondered about Ace. He had always been a loving father to Missy, the child whose birth he had witnessed. Was his dominant interest in his son’s welfare something she should have expected?
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown and slid into bed.
She could hear Ace going about his nightly checks as he secured their home. She drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Now what? she thought. She turned over on her right side, closed her eyes as if already asleep.
Ace quietly slid into bed. He put his arm across Elyse’s body. She did not move or acknowledge his presence.
“Elyse,” he whispered into her ear, “I will not let this problem come between us. I love you and always will. Trust me, I believe in us and I know you do, too.”
Although Elyse heard his words, this stumbling block reminded her of her mother and her strong, opinionated manner. But now she was the mother, and she vowed silently to herself that night to be a mother that not only loved her family but wanted the best for them. But she knew she could never attain that goal unless her own cup of life was fulfilled. She had to be a whole, satisfied human being before she could be anyone’s wife or mother. That meant, for her, to increase her activity in The Kwanzaa Book and Gift Shop.
Sighing deeply, she turned to face her husband. In the darkened bedroom she whispered, “Do you love me, Ace?”
“Honey, you know I do, with all my heart.”
“Then remember this. If I can’t be a truly whole person, I can’t be a good wife and mother. Think about that. And, Ace, I love you, too.” She kissed him and turned her back to him.
Ace lay wide awake, thinking. He had to remember that his wife was a person with goals and ambitions of her own. He had always admired her strong will and her tenacity in reaching her goals. How many women would have gone through what she had endured to have her dead husband’s child?
He remembered, too, the night Missy was born, and Ajay. What courage, what stamina she went through to become a mother, and . . . make him a father. It came to him then. If he expected Elyse to be a total mother, why shouldn’t he be a total father?
Before he finally went to sleep that night, he knew what he had to do.
The next morning found them both busy with their morning activities, getting breakfast for themselves, feeding the children, getting Missy ready for daycare.
When Ace kissed Elyse goodbye that morning, he said, “I’ll be home for lunch and we’ll talk.”
True to his word, around noon Ace bounded into the kitchen where Elyse was feeding their son.
“I’m here, Elyse. I brought lobster rolls for our lunch!” He kissed her, than Ajay. “How are you, my man?” He was rewarded by a crooked grin, a small chin cov ered wi
th strained applesauce.
“Just let me put him down for his nap, and maybe you’ll pour some ginger ale to go with our lobster rolls.”
“Will do, no problema,” he said.
When she returned, Ace had set up a card table in the family room and Elyse joined him there. “Ajay is already napping,” she said.
He had placed attractive placemats on the table, with matching napkins. He placed the lobster rolls, sprigs of parsley and sliced tomatoes on attractive salad plates. Ginger ale sparkled in the tall, slender glasses. A small vase of white daisies rested in the center of the table.
When Elyse came in, Ace was sitting at the table, waiting for her. He sprang up from his chair to seat her. As he did so, he planted a light kiss on the top of her head.
“El,” he said quietly, his hands resting on her shoulders. She could hear the deep emotion in his thickened voice. He cleared his throat and started to speak again. She did not miss the gravity in his voice.
He caressed her shoulders, then took his seat, reached for her hands.
“Oh, El, honey, I owe you an apology. I can only say that at times I am the dumbest man on earth! Never, as long as I live, will I ever forget the day you walked into my arms and into my life, a sad, bewildered young woman whose pain asked me to hold her. I love you, girl, always will, and I’m proud to have you as my wife and the mother of our children. And I do want to be a loving father to them. Can you forgive me for my stupid thinking?”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded, swayed by his tense emotion.
Ace continued, “My darling Elyse, I never want to lose you, couldn’t live without you. What made me think that because my mother was a stay-at-home mom you would be too? My God, I’m almost thirty-seven years old and why shouldn’t a talented, educated woman like you enjoy a career if she wants to?”
“Do you mean that, Ace?”
“I do, and I’m doing some planning. You say two days a week at the store?”
“Right, two days to see how it goes.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking, hon.”
Their lobster rolls were forgotten as Ace explained.
“You know the back room in my shop where I slept? Well, now it’s an office-like area. Something like what you have at your store. That’s what gave me the idea. So this morning I rented a crib, playpen and swing. Also,” he grinned as he saw Elyse’s face light up, “also, I’ve bought a microwave, small hot plate and a small refrigerator that fits under my desk.”
“Ace, you . . . you mean?”
“I mean that Ajay can spend two days of the week with me! Why should his mother be the only parent to see him get his first tooth, take his first steps? Aren’t dads supposed to see new things, too?”
He started to pick up his lobster, but before he could do so, Elyse bounced out of her seat and began to kiss him frantically.
“Oh, Ace, how wonderful you are! Are you sure you don’t mind taking Ajay to the store?”
“It’s my pleasure and privilege to do so. Ajay and I have already bonded, but this is the start of a wonderful time for me and my son. And while we’re talking about our children, I will always thank Barry Marshall for you and Missy.”
He pulled her into his lap. As they looked at each other, their intense need compelled them to act. Hand in hand they ran up the stairs to their bedroom. The unmade bed was not a deterrent as they tossed their clothes to the floor.
With a moan of deep hunger, Ace held his wife close, mindful of the chasm that had threatened their happiness. The past turmoil was forgotten as they clung to each other, their bodies aflame with the need for comfort and reassurance that only this loving act could give them.
“My darling, forgive me.”
Elyse shushed him. “Just love me, Ace, please.”
“My pleasure.”
He nuzzled her ear, began to trace his tongue along the soft recesses of her outer ear. His gentle kisses soon became demanding and his lips created tantalizing sensations from her ears to her cheeks and neck, finally reaching her breasts. He marveled at the voluptuous changes in his wife’s body since the birth of two children. Elyse had nursed two babies, but today Ace reveled in the knowledge that these glorious orbs were his . . . his alone to enjoy.
As his lips reached the erect nub of her breast, he closed them firmly around it, while with the other hand he caressed its mate.
The mewling sounds from Elyse’s throat excited him even more, and she clasped his head to her.
He moved over her and she raised her hips to allow him to join her body with his. She met him, thrust for thrust, their cries of ecstasy mingling as they soared, reaching the pinnacle of wild passion. Neither could speak as they clung together, trembling from the tumultuous experience.
Finally, their breathing returned to a normal rhythm. Elyse was the first to speak.
“Going back to the store?”
He shook his head.
“I’m still the boss and have decided to spend the rest of the afternoon right here with you, my dear wife.”
“What a nice idea,” she whispered, nuzzling his cheek.
“Glad you like it. But I haven’t had enough yet. Come here, sweet lady!”
She did not resist as he began to nibble her ear again. Nor did she protest.
EPILOGUE
It was one of those Norman Rockwell days, a perfect fall day in New England. The sky was a deep cobalt blue, with fluffs of meandering white clouds floating around the edges of the horizon.
There was little or no wind, and the few fall leaves that clung tenaciously to maple and oak trees—the willow trees had long been barren—scarcely moved. The wind seemed somehow to quiet the earth into holding its warmth close to its heart as if to husband it against the approaching winter.
Overhead a flock of Canada geese were vee-shaped into their flight pattern south despite the unexpected warmth of the day. They were not fooled by the alluring, deceptive weather. Winter was coming as it always did, so they did not wait, but flew south as usual.
Ace had enjoyed his daily two-mile run. It had been a perfect day for his workout.
“When a man has a family,” he told his wife, “he has a responsibility to take care of himself, so he can take care of them.”
Toweling himself off as he walked in the back door into the kitchen, he found his wife standing in front of the sink, drying her hands with a paper towel.
“Good run?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he panted, “just perfect. It’s a great day out there.”
She reached into the refrigerator, handed him a chilled bottle of spring water.
“Thanks.” He raised the bottle in a salute to her.
“I really need this. Whew!” he puffed as he opened the bottle and took a deep swallow of the refreshing water.
He cleared his throat with a satisfied exhalation. “Aa-ah, good. How’s the cooking doing?” he asked, nodding at the stove where several covered pots and skillets were boiling and bubbling with a mixture of fragrant cooking odors seeping beneath their lids.
“Everything’s coming along nicely, we’re right on time. The turkey has another half hour to go, and then I’ll make the gravy,” she reassured him. “Don’t worry, my dear, you will not be embarrassed at your first big family dinner in our house.”
He shot right back with his response.
“Are you kidding me? Girl, I never worry about your abilities! I know you can do anything you put your mind to!”
“Oh, Ace,” her words came, solemn and slow, “you have to know that it was the support and confidence that you have always given me that has had so much to do with any little success I’ve had.”
She sat down across the table from him, a serious expression on her face.
Ace reached across the table for her hand.
“Honey, it was the strength you had to follow a dream and see it come to fruition. I knew that I had to measure up or I would lose you, the only woman I have ever loved. That day when you walked int
o my arms, you walked into my heart. And let me tell you, here and now, no man can live without his heart.”
Then he stood, moved to her side of the table. He reached to help her stand. Their lips met, almost as if for the first time in their lives, touching, yearning, seeking and confirming. Not a word was spoken. None was needed. The moment between them said it all.
* * *
Elyse smiled to herself as she heard her husband go upstairs to shower, shave and get dressed to meet their dinner guests. The only missing person was Emerald, who was on her way to Cameroon to visit Omar. They were to be married in the spring. Omar had all the necessary documents and Emerald was very happy with the coming change in her life.
She opened the oven door to check on the roasting twenty-pound turkey. There would be ten at the table today, including her parents, her beloved Aunt Ginny, Holly, Branch and other aunts and uncles. She had decided that little Missy was old enough, almost four, to sit at the table near Aunt Ginny, who would supervise her. The baby would be in his high chair, close by his mother.
Armed with the turkey baster, she poured the hot juices over the turkey. Then she turned her attention to the dining room. She had set the table the night before. She was pleased with the white china, the delicate wine goblets and sparkling silverware. The final touch was the centerpiece she had ordered from the florist. It was a glorious autumn arrangement of yellow chrysanthemums, deep purple asters with large, waxy green leaves interspersed with orange-red bayberries.
Looking at the beautiful table, Elyse thought of the changes that had come into her life the past few years. Today she felt triumphant. As steel is tried by fire, she thought, she had come through crisis after crisis and was stronger as a result of those experiences.
She was deeply in love with her wonderful husband, her two children were healthy and happy. Her relationship with Barry’s daughter, Holly, was based on solid grounds of respect and friendship. Her bookstore was doing very well, so much so that she’d had to hire more staff. Even her strongly opinionated mother had remarked to her, “I’m proud of you, Elyse, for what you have gone through. You’re more woman than I could ever be.”
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