Lambert's Code

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Lambert's Code Page 2

by Hauck, Rachel


  “Julie was there, sitting alone on one of the benches.”

  Ethan glanced at his watch for the first time all afternoon. Four thirty. Already? Wow, I need to get to the rec center and start warming up.

  “It’s snowing. She was sitting in the snow.”

  Ethan clicked icons on his computer, shutting it down for the day. “I’ll ask her about it tonight.”

  Will stood. “Do. Something didn’t feel right. I wish I’d stopped to check on her.”

  Packing up his laptop, Ethan glanced up just as Will exited his office. He was about to comment on his introspective wife when a brilliant thought flashed across his mind. Will can play center. He’s tall, athletic. He played some basketball in school.

  He dashed around his desk and bound down the hall. “Will, buddy. What are you doing tonight?”

  ❧

  Julie felt one with the snow, cold and frozen. Falling flakes powdered her head and shoulders while Dr. Patterson’s words fluttered across the plains of her heart.

  Unless God intervenes…a very, very slim chance of conceiving. In her whole life, she had never felt as hopeless as she did now. Not even when she miscarried the first year of their marriage.

  “You’re young. You’ll have more children.” Everyone said so, even Dr. Patterson.

  But today his diagnosis bore an entirely different message. I’m barren. Julie thought. At twenty-eight, I’m barren.

  Tears slipped down her chilled cheeks. She wiped them away with her gloved fingers, squelching the scream that pressed against her soul: God, it’s not fair!

  But she restrained the words from riding on the wind. What good would it do to yell out? What change could it bring?

  A sharp wind brushed through the park, tugging at her hair and hat. Three years of trying for a child, and this was the end of their hopes and fears.

  At least now she knew.

  I should go home. But she didn’t move. If ever she needed to pray, it was now. But her words felt shallow and inadequate. “Lord, I don’t understand.”

  From her coat pocket, Julie’s cell chirped. She hoped to see Ethan’s number on the tiny screen. For the first time since she’d left the medical center, she longed for his comfort. But the caller ID flashed Sophia’s name and number.

  “Hi, Sophia.” Julie tried to sound cheery and light.

  “Well, what did the doctor say?”

  Her vision blurred. Julie looked over the snow-covered park and pursed her lips, contemplating her answer. The news felt personal and private. She hadn’t even told her husband yet. How could she broadcast the news to her friend, the gossip?

  “Julie?” Sophia pressed.

  “He said—” She hesitated before continuing. “It might be awhile.”

  “Aw, girl, are you kidding?”

  Sophia’s tone provoked more tears. Julie pressed her gloved fingers against her eyes. “It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal? Since I met you five years ago, you’ve wanted babies.”

  Julie lifted her face to the falling snow, drawing a deep breath. “It’s okay, Sophia.”

  “What did Ethan say?”

  Julie inhaled, the cold air numbing her emotions. “Nothing. I—”

  “Nothing? The man said nothing?” Sophia’s voice spiked with indignation.

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Listen, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Meet me for coffee at Peri’s Perk in the morning.”

  Julie agreed, thinking how Peri Cortland’s hip coffee shop had rejuvenated the town’s morning routine. A cup of her freshly brewed coffee would cheer her day.

  “See you in the morning.”

  “See you at Peri’s.”

  Julie pressed End and stood, brushing the snow from her coat. She plowed through white drifts to her car and climbed behind the wheel. When she turned the key, the car responded with a clicking sound.

  “Oh, come on. Not now.” She clenched her jaw and tried again.

  Nothing. The car’s engine would not turn over. Julie dropped her head to the steering wheel and pounded the dashboard of her twelve-year-old economy car. “God, this is not fair!”

  She’d have a new car if she hadn’t convinced Ethan to try for one last round of fertility treatments. He’d wanted to wait another year, rebuild their savings, give their emotions a break, but she’d argued fervently against him.

  In the end, what little money they’d set aside for a down payment was spent, and it still wasn’t enough. Her parents, eager for grandchildren, loaned them the last of the money they needed. At the time, Julie felt so sure she would conceive. Now, looking back, all she could think was what a waste it had been. All that money spent with nothing to show for it.

  When she didn’t become pregnant, Dr. Patterson insisted on a thorough battery of tests.

  I’m barren. Barren. The word echoed in her soul like the tick, tick, tick of a clock in an empty room. Barren, barren, barren.

  Julie jerked her head up. I’ve got to get moving. She tried the key again, but the old engine refused to fire.

  She yanked open the door, grabbed her purse and shoulder tote, and stepped out into a foot of snow.

  ❧

  Sweaty but exhilarated, Ethan drove home from the rec center, the large championship trophy sitting in the seat next to him, the seat belt clicked around his treasure.

  Don’t want it bouncing all over the car, do I?

  He grinned, turning down Main Street, cruising past Milo Park. The hue of the amber-colored streetlight reflected off the new fallen powder, and Ethan, well, he couldn’t resist a sudden impulse.

  He pulled into the park and bounded toward the winter wonderland. He flopped on his back, pumping his arms and legs to make the perfect snow angel.

  With a hooting laugh, he hopped up without destroying his creation and flopped down in the snow for a second snow angel. Then with his bare finger he wrote “Ethan” under one and “Julie” under the other.

  How long had it been that way? Ethan and Julie. Forever, it seemed to him. Since they were sixteen.

  Chilled from his romp in the snow, Ethan jogged back to his car. Out of the corner of his eye, in the dim light of the streetlamp, he saw a little car buried under mounting snow.

  Is that Julie’s car? Ethan swerved right to investigate. He brushed the snow from the hood to see the chipped paint of her faded blue heap. Yep, it’s hers. What’s it doing parked here?

  Suddenly he remembered. Will. What did he say about Julie sitting in the park? He’d forgotten all about calling her.

  Returning to his car, he revved the engine and blasted the heater. Digging his cell phone from his sports bag, he autodialed home. Julie did not answer.

  Next he called her cell. He let it ring until voice mail picked up. Then he dialed home again. Still no answer.

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Julie, where are you? He called her cell one more time. She didn’t pick up.

  Come on, Jules, where are you? He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She’s not at home and apparently not with her cell. Yet her car is abandoned at Milo Park.

  Ethan tried to remember her weekly schedule. What night did she help the church youth choir? Lately their schedules took them in opposite directions. Thursdays, he concluded. She works with them on Thursdays. Today is Monday.

  Ethan tapped his cell phone against his chin. After a few seconds, he dialed a different number. The crisp, aristocratic voice of Ralph Hanover answered. “Good evening, Hanover residence.”

  “Hi, Ralph. It’s Ethan. Is Julie there?”

  “No, son, she’s not.”

  “Have you heard from her?” Frustration laced his words.

  “Let me check with her mother.”

  Ethan waited, listening to the muffled tone of his father-in-law. “Sandy hasn’t talked to her since Saturday.”

  “Thanks.” Ethan started to press End, but Ralph continued.


  “Did you two quarrel?”

  “No, sir, we didn’t. She’s just not answering the home phone or her cell.”

  “I see. Don’t forget Friday night. Sandy’s planned a big party. She wants to cheer everyone from their midwinter doldrums.”

  Friday, right. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Julie.”

  Ralph cleared his voice. “She’s never missed one of Sandy’s parties. Don’t see why she should start now.”

  “It’s been a tough week, Ralph.”

  “All the more reason to join us.” His words sounded so final. No was not an option.

  “Good night, sir.”

  “Good night, son.”

  Ethan tossed his phone into the passenger seat. Ralph and Sandy Hanover never ceased to exert influence on their only child’s life. When were they going to be grandparents? Shouldn’t Julie try out for the New Hampshire symphony? Julie somehow managed to obtain a healthy amount of independence, but she also carried a certain level of obligation. Deep obligation.

  “Wife, where are you?” Ethan squinted in the darkness. Surely she was safe. Lord, help me out here. She’s safe, right?

  Three

  In the living room, Julie graded papers, her legs crossed Indian style, a carton of Chinese food on the floor beside her.

  “Julie.” Ethan charged through the front door, his voice like a foghorn.

  “Ethan?”

  “Why didn’t you answer the phone?” He stood in the middle of the room, his coat askew, a trophy under one arm and a basketball under the other.

  “I see you won.” Julie motioned to the golden guerdon. She picked up the beef and broccoli carton.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Ethan didn’t move.

  Julie kept her eyes averted. If she looked at him, she’d burst into tears, and quite frankly, she didn’t have the energy to go through it again. She’d tell him the news, but not tonight. Not now. Where would I find the words?

  “I took a bath.” She omitted that she was just about to sink into the sudsy water when he called the first time.

  “Why didn’t you call me back?”

  “I knew you’d be home soon, and I needed to get these papers graded.”

  “Why is your car at Milo Park?” He walked past her to the spare bedroom they referred to as the den. “It’s practically buried in snow.”

  Julie bit her lower lip and stared at her students’ papers, not really seeing the words. She heard Ethan’s movements in the study, the bounce of the basketball against the hardwood floor, the shuffle of items on the computer desk to make room for his prize.

  “Jules? What happened to your car?” Ethan called from the den. “Gave me a good scare seeing it abandoned there and you not answering the phone. I called your parents to see if you were over there.”

  She chewed slowly on another bite of beef and broccoli. “I thought you were taking the trophy to work.”

  “I will.” Ethan stood over her. “Why won’t you answer my questions?”

  Julie set the carton aside, stacked her students’ papers on the end table, and strode toward the kitchen. “Do you want some dinner?”

  “Yes.” Ethan smiled. “The Chinese smells good.”

  Mechanically Julie retrieved a plate from the cupboard. Ethan hated to eat from the carton. While she served his plate, he filled his glass with ice and water from the refrigerator.

  I can’t tell him now. I can’t. Tomorrow. She felt weary and frayed.

  “Who did you play?” She handed him a plate of Wong Lee’s finest, plastering a smile on her face. Though proud of her athletic husband’s win, her heart could not rejoice.

  “Creager Technologies. Beat the pants off of ’em. Will played center for us.”

  “Good for him.”

  Ethan sat at the table, laughing. “Ol’ Jeff played for Creager.” He slapped his knee. “He huffed and puffed up and down the court the whole time.”

  Ethan’s merriment infected her a little. She leaned forward, elbows propped on the kitchen counter, picturing Ethan’s police officer cousin, Jeff Simmons—burly like a grizzly bear—playing basketball.

  “How’d he get roped into that job?”

  Ethan scooped a mouthful of fried rice and teriyaki chicken with his chopsticks. “Ten bucks says Elizabeth got him into it. Since she started at Creager Technologies, she’s enlisted several of the cousins into their league teams.”

  “It’s dangerous to be a Lambert cousin in this town.”

  He gazed at her, serious. “Is it dangerous to be a Lambert wife?”

  “What? Of course not.”

  “Okay, then tell me what happened to your car. Why is it at Milo Park? And by the way, Will said he saw you there this afternoon, sitting in the snow.”

  Feeling exposed, Julie went to the living room and reclined on the couch. “I went to the park to think. When I went to leave, the car wouldn’t start.”

  “Babe, why didn’t you call me?” Ethan twisted toward her.

  She lifted her head. “Call you? You were too busy to—” She stopped short.

  “Too busy to what?”

  “You know what.” She struggled to contain her anger. But I should be angry.

  Ethan ate in silence. After a few moments, he asked in a low tone, “How did you get home?”

  “Walked.”

  “All that way?”

  “Yes, the exercise felt good.”

  He let loose a wry laugh. “You? Exercise? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  He fell silent, then asked abruptly as if he suddenly remembered, “How was your doctor’s appointment?”

  “Fine.” She stopped before her emotions betrayed her.

  “Fine?” He regarded her, waiting for more.

  “Just fine.” She rested her arm over her closed eyes and breathed deeply.

  Ethan walked to the kitchen with his plate. “See, I told you the news wouldn’t be bad.”

  “Right.” She swallowed hard.

  “So why did you sit in the park under the falling snow?”

  “Felt like it.” Julie heard the water running from the sink and then the click of the dishwasher.

  “But everything’s fine?”

  No, it’s not. It will never be fine. “Sure.”

  Ethan’s touch on her leg startled her. “What exactly did Doc Patterson say?”

  “Ethan, my head is killing me. Can we talk about this later?” A thought flashed through her mind that changed Julie’s weepiness to resolve. I want a new car.

  Ethan squeezed her leg. “Sure. I’ll call the tow truck in the morning.” He disappeared down the hall.

  She bolted upright. “Ethan, I want a new car.” Can’t have a baby? I’ll get a new car.

  His head popped around the corner. “What?”

  “I want a new car.”

  “Babe, we’re paying off debt. Medical bills, school bills, your parents.”

  She stood. With quick movements, she adjusted her baggy sweats. “I’m tired of that ol’ jalopy. It’s held together with bubble gum and duct tape. You said so yourself.”

  Ethan chuckled. “No, the mechanic said so.”

  Hands on her hips, she raised her chin. “Jesse knows what he’s talking about.”

  With a shake of his head, Ethan answered, “I don’t want to spend any more money, Julie. Think how great it will be to pay off our debt. And, for the first time in a year, our savings is above zero.”

  She bristled. “In the meantime, I drive around in a twelve-year-old piece of junk.”

  “That piece of junk has another good year or two left. Peter-John Roth drives the same make and model, and his car runs like a top. It has to be fifteen, sixteen years old.”

  “I want a new car, Ethan.” She couldn’t put her emotions into words, but suddenly the idea of driving a new car captivated her.

  He sighed and drew her to him, kissing her softly. “Don’t cry, Jules. Maybe we can look in the fall when the dealers have sales. It’s n
ot just spending money for a down payment; it’s adding the monthly car payment I don’t want right now.”

  She stiffened, tugging on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “It’s my money, too. I work, bring in an income.”

  “Right, and that’s what goes to the debt.”

  They argued for several minutes over who could make the call on spending money for a new car. Julie thought since she worked, she should be able to use her money the way she wanted.

  “Does that theory apply to my salary, too?” Ethan asked.

  They went around until Ethan stopped the conversation.

  “I don’t understand your sudden urgency, but can we talk about this later? I need to go over some things for work tomorrow.”

  “Sure.”

  When he left for the den, Julie tiptoed upstairs to the bathroom, kicked the cabinet, then wept.

  ❧

  Ethan stared at the open document on his laptop screen but didn’t read it. The championship trophy stood guard over him. He clicked the page closed, the desire to work abated.

  Falling back against the desk chair, he propped his hands on his legs. What happened here tonight? He came home, admittedly a little angry. He asked about her car, asked about the doctor’s appointment. She said everything was fine. She listened to his championship game recap. Then suddenly the squabble over a new car ignited.

  Something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to press Julie for an explanation, but lately, if he pushed her, she went deeper within herself.

  When did their communication become so hard? Since eleventh grade, she’d been his best friend. They talked about everything.

  Ethan wandered out to the living room, his body stiff from the night of play. He collapsed in his chair and clicked on the television. Blankly he stared at the images on the screen.

  The last few years had been difficult. As they waded through the waters of new careers, stress wove its way into their lives, even more so once they realized starting a family would not be easy. Dr. Patterson was hopeful in the beginning. Julie took a year off work while she completed grad school, hoping to conceive.

  Then came the special treatments, medications, and one surgery. Their small savings depleted, her parents loaned them money. A gift, they said. But Ethan insisted on paying it back.

 

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