Coming Home

by Julie Sellers

  Lillie made her way to the bathroom and turned the hot water knob in the claw foot tub. She shed the pajamas she’d had on for days and was almost surprised they didn’t stand up on their own. She caught a whiff their musty smell as they drifted to the floor and grimaced.

  She paused for just a moment when she caught a glimpse of her reflection as she lowered herself into the tub. Her hair stuck out in all directions and had the dull, dark, oily sheen of too many days without a washing.

  She looked away from the mirror, ashamed. It was a wonder Jonathan bothered to come home at all. Lillie sank down into the warmth of the water and let her muscles relax as it chased away the chill that had burrowed into her bones during the lost hours in the back yard. The warmth surrounded her and she pushed her husband from her mind and concentrated instead on the ache in her chest.

  She felt guilty for worrying about Jon or her marriage when her babies were gone. She had no right to care about her life when they didn’t have one. She couldn’t forget—wouldn’t forget about them. She hadn’t protected them. Hadn’t given them a safe place to grow and thrive. It was her fault. Her fault. No amount of hot water would wash that guilt away.

  She finished her bath and watched the last of the water swirl away down the drain. If only their problems could whirl away so easily.

  Lillie dressed in a cozy velour lounging set Catherine had sent her from somewhere in Europe the month before and her favorite fuzzy slippers. She wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to find it barer than Old Mother Hubbard’s. She made a mental note to go food shopping the next day and she widened her search to include the kitchen cupboards as well. Finally, she unearthed a nearly expired box of Jonathan’s contraband Twinkies. He must have forgotten where he’d hidden them or there wouldn’t have been any left for her to find.

  She unwrapped one, standing over the sink and took a large bite of the slightly stale sponge cake. She licked the creamy center frosting the cakes were famous for, off her upper lip as she chewed. But it might as well have been sawdust, for all of the enjoyment she got out of it. She took another bite and looked out the window to the back yard.

  Something moved in the tree in the lowering dusk. Her hand went to her throat in alarm. The Twinkie flopped in her stomach. A scream stalled at her lips when she noticed Jon’s white running shoes peeking out from underneath the oak.

  Her curiosity overcame whatever lingering anger remained from their earlier exchange. Still, she opened the door, walked down the steps and crossed the yard with trepidation.

  As she grew near, she realized he was hanging something in the tree.

  “Hi,” she said softly.

  Jonathan jumped and stifled a curse, but answered, “Hello.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Surprise,” he said flatly and looked at her.

  “Oh,” her voice as flat has his.

  “The house was dark. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

  “I took a hot bath.” She approached the bird feeder, now hanging from a low branch. “This is adorable,” she said as she drew near her husband.

  “I figured you’d like to have something to look at from your chair,” his voice almost a whisper.

  Lillie’s hand went to her lips and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Jon.” Lillie’s ragged breath caught in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  Jon pulled her close to his side, but didn’t answer immediately. After a while, he spoke. “It’s okay, baby. I know how hard this has been for you. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

  “I wasn’t just talking about today.” Lillie drew a deep breath and her words tumbled from her lips. “I’m going to do better, Jon—get better. I promise.”

  “I love you, Lillie. I just want you to be happy.”

  Lillie closed her eyes and exhaled, relieved. He hadn’t left her. Even though she might deserve it. He bought her a birdhouse. He tried to make her happy, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t think she knew how to be happy anymore. But she didn’t want to lose him. When he’d thrown up his hands and stalked away from her, she’d been afraid he’d had enough of her and walked away for good.

  Chapter Six

  Jonathan sat at their tiny kitchen table pouring over the graphs of his high school band, the Marching Panthers’ half time routine. They were well into the season, but the fine-tuning of the show never ended. The directors made changes up until the week of the state championships, adding a degree of difficulty here and deleting an awkward move there.

  Staging a show at the level his band competed was a complicated project and one that consumed most of the year. The directors started choreographing the next year’s show weeks, if not days after the championships in October. The students began learning the music after their return from the Christmas holiday. Even with his custom arrangement, the music selection this year stretched his band, but it was his favorite piece of music.

  He’d gambled when he’d chosen to perform Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. Although popularized by Disney’s Fantasia, it was something unlike anything performed at the contest before. Only time would tell if it would be enough for the win.

  In Indiana, the marching band finals were second only in attendance to basketball. His school, LaSalle Central, was one of the finest. In his nine years at the helm, they had been runners-up no less than three times and in the top ten every year. This year he pulled out all of the stops to see if they could capture the ever-elusive championship.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lillie, a dust cloth in her hand, lurking around the kitchen trying to appear busy. There was only so much cleaning she could do in their tiny home. Earlier, she had been keeping herself busy at the computer in the den inputting a new listing.

  Jonathan’s mother had finally decided to sell the home where he’d grown up. It was too big and, even with Jon helping out, the upkeep was hard on his mother. The only reason she’d finally relented and listed the house was because it was hard for Molly, his niece, nearly five years old and wheelchair bound. Slight as she was at five, it was beginning to be a chore for his mother to carry her up and down the stairs. Lillie had already begun the search for a new single level home for them, close to town and Molly’s doctors and therapists.

  Some sons might be sad when their mothers decided to sell their childhood home, but not Jon. He’d urged her to put the old farmhouse on the market years before, but she wouldn’t hear of it. It had been in the Oleson family for generations.

  Little by little, they sold the surrounding acreage as their family finances dictated. People were quick to purchase the lots for homes as the city of LaSalle spread to the south, but she steadfastly refused to part with the house.

  Jonathan had few happy memories there, before or after his father had been killed on the farm. Selling it would be a relief. His father had worked a full time factory job and farmed in the evenings and on weekends. With two full time jobs, Jonathan saw little of him growing up. He blamed his father and the farm in that order so he would not be sorry to see the old homestead go.

  Lillie wiped the counters for the third time. Normally, she would have curled up in the living room with her favorite quilt and a book. But nothing in their lives was normal anymore. Some days he looked at his wife and barely recognized her. Overnight she’d turned into a person he didn’t know and couldn’t reach.

  When the first pregnancy ended in the first trimester they had been sad, of course, but they both accepted that these things happen. There’s no rhyme or reason why. He wholeheartedly believed that they would go on to have a whole passel of children.

  When Lillie lost the second baby at five months, their devastation knew no bounds. The middle of the second trimester should have been out of the woods. Not only had they lost a child, they were concerned if they would ever have a family at all.

  He took a deep breath and instead of asking for a few more minutes to work, he extended his arm to i
nterrupt her pacing and curled her into his arms. He plunked her down on his lap and kissed her soundly as she landed.

  Lillie wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned her forehead against his and exhaled.

  “Baby,” he said in a low voice. Jonathan did not ask her what was wrong because he knew. Forcing her to say it again was not only unnecessary, but also cruel. She wanted a baby, and he couldn’t make it right.

  Lillie said nothing; she just sat, still at last, and breathed in and out.

  “I’d change it for you if I could.” Jonathan brought his face around and kissed her. She returned his kiss but broke it off abruptly.

  “Change it for us, Jon. You want a baby as much as I do, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. He matched his breathing with her and tried to be patient. But he might as well try to navigate a minefield, blindfolded. Watching every word exhausted him, and he let out a breath in frustration.

  He did want a child, but not with the constant and unrelenting passion and panic of his wife.

  He was worried, who wouldn’t be after two miscarriages? But they were young, healthy, fit. It would happen. Lillie told him stories all of the time about couples that had healthy babies after six, seven or even eight miscarriages.

  He prayed that tragic path would not be theirs, but he had no reason to think it would be. He wasn’t too worried about anything but his wife’s state of mind. Yet.

  Jonathan and Lillie sat as they were for a while, both lost in their thoughts. After a time, Jonathan spoke. “Hey, I’m going down to the field to walk the show. Do you want to help me? The fresh air will do us both good.”

  Lillie looked out the window as if considering the beautiful autumn day. Jon needed to get out of the house and get some fresh air, but he didn’t want to leave her alone with her thoughts, toxic as they were. Even she had to be getting tired of herself.

  As if reading his mind, Lillie forced a smile. “Ok, but only if I can be the color guard. I always wanted to twirl one of those big guns.”

  Jonathan knew what the good humor was costing her and he appreciated the effort. He immediately felt guilty for his impatience and unkind thoughts, even if she didn’t know it. “Hmm…nope. You’re the tuba.”

  “Tuba?” she said with mock horror, “No way, husband.”

  “What’s wrong, too heavy?” Jon asked as he held the door as they walked out into the mid-autumn sunshine.

  “Well, maybe,” she considered, “I’ve never carried a tuba, so I’m not sure.”

  “What then?” Jon slung his arm around his wife as they walked briskly down their front steps and down the sidewalk toward the path that would carry them through a wooded area, and eventually led them to the rear of the school and the band’s practice field.

  Lillie gave him a mischievous smile. “Tuba players are terrible kissers.”

  “Oh, really,” Jonathan replied.

  Lillie nodded. “Too sloppy.”

  “And just how would you know that?” he questioned.

  Lillie waived off his inquiry while he asked, “What about trumpet players?”

  “Too cocky.”

  “French Horn?”

  “Too tightlipped.”

  “Woodwinds?”

  “You even have to ask?” Lillie’s mock horror made him laugh as they entered the cool shade of the woods. She positioned the sunglasses she had snagged from the foyer table on their way out of the house on top her head. “Too mushy.”

  “Huh.” He paused and considered for a moment before asking, “How many musicians have you kissed, anyway?”

  “Enough.”

  “What about trombones?” Jonathan asked naming his own primary instrument. He cringed as he awaited her response.

  “Perfect.”

  “Perfect?” he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “Not too sloppy or mushy or cocky or tight lipped?”

  “Well, maybe just a bit cocky, but that’s okay.” Lillie’s lips curved in a genuine smile. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. He pulled her off the path and into the bushes to show her just how perfectly a trombone player could kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  The mobile phone in Jonathan’s pocket vibrated for the third time in as many minutes. He considered ignoring it once again, but realized it could be an emergency and immediately felt guilty thinking there could be a problem with his mother, Molly or his wife. He poked the button to connect the call.

  “Jonathan, guess what?” Lillie said without giving him a chance to say hello.

  Jonathan held one hand over his ear in an effort to make out Lillie’s frantic voice on the other end of the line. They were in the middle of afternoon rehearsal and stood on the fifty-yard line, walking through the trumpet section on the practice field, when he’d picked up the call. “Lillie, is everything okay? What did you say?”

  “I’m fine. Listen, Dr. Carsten’s office has a cancellation. They can see us right away.”

  “Now isn’t a good time.”

  “Dr. Carsten is one of the best fertility doctors in the state. The first appointment they could give us was for March. That’s four months, Jonathan.”

  “Did you just say they could get us in today? Tomorrow would really be better for me. I’m with the band, and we’re in the middle of rehearsal.” Jon walked off the field as she spoke so that he could hear what she was saying more easily. His assistant gave him an odd glance, before returning to counting off the beats for the complex marching move being attempted by the trumpet line.

  “What?” Jonathan could hear the aggravation in her voice. “This is the Dr. Carsten. Obviously you have not been paying any attention to me for weeks. This appointment is all I’ve talked about for nearly a month.”

  “I’m with the band,” Jonathan shouted over the roar, mistakenly thinking Lillie had not heard him above the racket.

  “I know you are with the band; you are always with the band! But today, I need you Jon.”

  “Lil, the band is my job! I need—’’

  Lillie cut him off again and spoke in a calm and distinct voice. “Jonathan, there is not an appointment for tomorrow. It’s for today. In a half an hour.”

  “I can’t—’’

  “When I made our initial appointment the soonest they could see us was March, but they had a cancellation. I call there every day, Jonathan, and this is the first cancellation they’ve had. We could be half way to a baby by March if we go today instead of waiting that long. You obviously don’t understand what this means, or you don’t care.”

  “Lillie,” Jonathan began, a bit worried about her. It was true that he wanted a baby, but calling the doctor every day?

  “Just be out front in five minutes. I’ll pick you up. I’ve got to leave right now. You are just going to have to work it out.”

  Jonathan heard the click of the receiver and stormed across the field to his assistant. Jonathan had half a mind not to give in to Lillie’s impromptu demands. He considered her seemingly fragile mental state these days and called in a favor. He explained the situation as best he could in under a minute and jogged toward the office to let them know he had to leave unexpectedly. There was only fifteen minutes of school left, but the school rules required he notify the principal, even though his assistant was present.

  He flew through the administration office and out the front door to where Lillie idled illegally at the curb. He opened the passenger side door and seated himself in the car. Lillie stomped on the gas before he had a chance to fasten his seatbelt. She cut off two school buses, several minivans and an SUV heading for the school’s carpool lanes, her knuckles white on the wheel.

  “Jesus Christ, Lillie. Who are you trying to kill, me or just the innocent bystanders?”

  Lillie’s brow knit in an even deeper furrow at his words. He knew she hated it when he cursed, but she said nothing. She only muttered something that sounded like, “collateral damage.”

  Jonat
han knew trouble when he saw it. When his wife was merely mad, she yelled, sometimes quite loud. When his wife was really angry, she simmered and it could last for days. He knew from experience, if he asked her if she was okay, she’d say, “fine” so he saved his breath. Instead, he looked out the window and prayed the ride would be over soon.

  In world record time, Lillie located the modern, architecturally void medical office building and parked in the first space she came to. They made their way across the parking lot and entered one of the offices on the ground floor. Jonathan took a seat while Lillie waited in line to let the receptionist know they’d arrived. She returned with a sheaf of forms to fill out regarding their medical history. Jonathan dutifully filled in all of the blanks and submitted them back to the receptionist at the front of the large waiting room before returning to his seat.

  He always imagined the size of a waiting room was a sign as to how quickly he could expect to be seen by a doctor or other professional. If it was small, then there was not a lot of room for the patients or clients, thus that particular practitioner must be quick so that their waiting room did not overflow. Large reception areas, and this one was cavernous, were a sure sign it would be awhile.

  He turned to share as much with Lillie, but she was still involved in meticulously recreating every trip to the doctor since birth. He rolled his eyes and slouched deeper in his chair. At this rate, they’d be lucky to get out of here by morning. With nothing better to do, he picked up a magazine and began to thumb through it.

  “Jonathan Oleson.” Surprised, Jonathan walked to the front of the office. “My wife is not quite finished,” he said around the glass of the partition separating him from the office staff.

  “That’s fine, Mr. Oleson. We will just be doing your complete physicals today and running tests. Your next visit will be to see the doctor after the results are back. You’ll be in separate exam rooms today.”

  The nurse practitioner was very thorough and dissected everything in his medical history including his tonsillectomy at age five, with a fine-toothed comb. She asked several questions that he could not answer regarding his niece Molly and his sister’s pregnancy. Jonathan felt nearly violated by the actual physical examination. He was just a music teacher, but he was pretty sure some of the parts she checked did not play a part in baby making.