by Ruth Hay
“Absolutely! You’ll be the first person I call.”
Chris marched off to get his boss’s coffee brewed fresh. He had a new swing in his step.
Jillian sat back and wiggled her toes. She wondered for how long she could retain the illusion that high heels were no trouble for her. Her feet ached every night now.
How long would it be before Terrence Beck decided to retire from the business? How much money would they need in the bank before it was a viable choice?
Into her mind sprang the view of the secluded pool by the ocean in Nuevo Vallarta where the entire Beck family had spent a magical week. Would they ever again have the leisure to lounge the afternoon away in that spectacular location? Would she and Terry ever have the opportunity to dispense largesse to their children in the way Aylward and Marian had done on the occasion of that final celebration dinner?
She sighed and rubbed her feet surreptitiously. All that speculation was in the distant future. There was tonight and tomorrow to get through then she would see the children here for the family meal on Monday evening. She could assess recent progress then. There were likely to be some interesting revelations. That was far enough ahead to think about for now.
Around about the same time when Jillian was thinking about her future, Aylward Beck was having a similar conversation with his wife. They were seated comfortably together on a pearl grey couch looking out at their view of Toronto by night. It was not the view they would have seen from their previous residence. That view over the garden and woods was totally dark at night and therefore never noticed the way they noticed the lights of Toronto’s buildings illuminated, as they were each evening, in a variety of different ways. This always led them to speculate on the number of people living and working in the city and the various activities they had access to at night.
“It’s such a strange world for us to be a part of,” pronounced Marian, not for the first time.
“Are you sorry we made this huge change, my dear?”
“Not at all. Change is good at our time of life. It’s so easy to believe everyone and everything is the same as in your own situation. Most of the world lives in enormous cities much bigger than this one. In our quiet backwater we forgot about that. Here in the midst of city life we have been given an entirely new perspective.”
Aylward was surprised to hear his wife’s statement. Clearly, her hours spent on the balcony overlooking the lake had not been all about admiring the view and recovering her strength.
“What about this new perspective has caused you to be glad?”
“Well, first of all I am glad to be here to see it.”
Aylward squeezed his wife’s hand in agreement. He had almost lost her and the realization pained him immeasurably.
“Apart from that, I feel we are closer to our family here than we ever were before. In so many ways we were isolated from them. Now, Jillian is a real part of my life, Abi comes over to consult with us on seniors’ issues, Devon gives us updates on Portia’s progress and I really look forward to Jillian’s accounts of those lively family meals at the restaurant. Also, we are much more in contact with others of our age group here, because of the building’s excellent facilities that give us more energy for healthy pursuits.
My mind is not encumbered by survival issues every minute and you, my darling man, look fitter and more at peace than you have in many years.”
He laughed aloud at this perceptive summary and then demonstrated how carefully he had been listening by continuing on the same theme.
“I notice you omitted the names of our children. Does that mean we have work to do on bringing Terrence and Megan into closer contact?”
“Of course it does. I have been wondering if we could assist with Portia’s move to her mother’s house?
Devon thinks she is ready and Megan could drive Portia to work every day with her, which would relieve Devon of a chore he has willingly taken on. The boy wants to start an online MBA degree and he will require more time for that.”
“Marian! I had no idea you were keeping such close tabs on things. What else did you have in mind?”
“I was reading in a magazine that a well-known company has a competition for the design of its next generation of tissue boxes. I think that would be an ideal project for Portia and Devon could introduce it to her. She needs to be kept busy so that the initial period of settling in with her mother is not too stressful. Megan may be overanxious about it.”
“Indeed, she may. What about asking Megan to come here on a regular basis to have tea with us and report on how things are going. It works well with Jillian, as you said.”
“Good idea! What do you have to suggest about Terrence?”
This was a much more difficult topic. The senior Becks knew well that relations between their son and his father had been strained for many years. The situation had improved greatly after the intervention in Mexico but Terrence would resist anything that added to his long working days.
They gazed out at the twinkling lights and each thought about this predicament. It seemed as if they had managed to solve together many family problems. It felt like they had taken up the reins, not of control, but rather of guidance. If this last thorny issue could be improved, they would be content to let things proceed on a positive path as long as they remained alive.
Finally, when fatigue was demanding it was time for sleep, Aylward demonstrated his ability to assess and analyze issues, both medical and personal.
“I believe it would make access to Terrence more convenient if I persuade him to drop the idea of repaying me for the loan to start the restaurant. He has proved he has made a success of it. He does not need to worry himself about a repayment neither of us requires. I should have thought of this as soon as the Forest Hill house sold.”
Marian turned to her husband and pulled him toward her for a warm kiss on his cheek.
“Brilliant thinking, Aylward! And I can add to it. Jillian has mentioned once or twice how time consuming the long, daily drive from the suburbs is. She says it seems pointless to maintain their four-bedroom house when they spend so little time in it. What do you think about suggesting they sell their house and use the repayment money to buy something suitable in the core area. That might make it easier for Terrence to accept your offer.”
“Marian Beck, I always knew there was a reason why I married you.”
“Aylward Beck, I always knew it too, and now you have proved me right, once again.
We have done our best. Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Seven
Sunday.
None of the Beck family could possibly have known how much their individual lives were about to change yet again.
Louise woke late on Sunday and trundled off to the washroom half asleep. When she was splashing her face with cool water, it occurred to her to check something. Pulling open the drawer beneath the sink she scrabbled around for her private calendar and, in sudden panic, she turned the pages back and forth counting the weeks. Surely there was a mistake? She had been so busy at work the last few weeks she must have neglected to make an entry. That must be it. She pulled everything out of the drawer and found her contraception patches. Relief! She had taken one at the right time as it was gone from the package. She checked her calendar again and again until she could not deny the fact. Despite evidence to the contrary, she had apparently missed two periods.
She placed a hand over her stomach. Did she feel any different? How would she know if a tiny life was growing inside her? She felt her breasts and remembered how Jason had noticed their increased size and accused her, laughingly, of putting on weight. Well, this was no laughing matter. If she was indeed pregnant it could change everything.
She sat down on the toilet seat and tried to think how she felt about the possibility. A part of her brain that was still functioning, told her to get a pregnancy test and confirm her suspicions before she did anything else. But she could not wait. Her mind was filled with revolving excitement, doubt,
fear, anticipation and apprehension. She could not determine which was the dominant emotion.
How would Jason feel about this?
How did she really feel about this?
Should she keep silent until she knew for sure? This seemed to be the logical decision but she needed to talk to someone right now and Jason was the one most involved, as well as the nearest.
Should she call her mother to advise her? No. The call would set off a chain of events that would quickly get out of control.
The indecision was making her nervous. She needed action. Now!
Returning to the bedroom she stood looking down at Jason. What she did in the next moments could change both their lives forever.
As if he could feel the intensity of his partner’s emotions, Jason turned over, opened his eyes, blinked and said, “What’s wrong, Babe? Why are you standing there like that?”
It was his casual use of the endearment, ‘Babe’, that undid Louise Beck completely.
She collapsed on the end of the bed and sobbed her heart out.
“Wait! What’s this all about? Hold on. I can’t understand a word you’re saying, Babe.”
It took several minutes for Jason to calm her down enough to get the story. Through her tears she watched his face as the news sunk in. There would be no turning back if he rejected the idea at once. Already, in some weird way, she felt protective of the supposed life they had created together.
“Really? Is this possible?” was all he asked, but his eyebrows were signalling his surprise. He reached automatically for his glasses as if they would help him to see the invisible.
“I don’t know for sure, Jason, but they say no method is one hundred percent reliable. I will go out right now and get the test then we’ll have a better idea of what’s happening.”
“Never mind the test. How do you feel? Do you think we could be pregnant?”
His use of the plural ‘we’, set Louise off again.
Jason thought she was certainly displaying a heightened emotional state. Wasn’t that a typical sign?
He sat her against the bed pillows with a box of tissues by her side and went to make a cup of tea.
By the time he returned with two cups on a tray, he had prepared a statement. He placed his hand gently against her lips to signal she should not speak until he was finished.
“Okay, then. We will get a test as soon as possible but you need to know right now that this is the best news in the world for me, for us. You know how I feel about you, Louise. We are ready to be parents if that is what’s happening. I knew the second I saw you shivering at that bus stop with your hair all flying in the cold wind that you would be my wife one day.
Let’s get married, whatever we find out today. Let’s tell your folks on Monday night. Let’s tell the world.
I love you, Louise Beck.”
Aylward Beck returned to his condominium apartment with his hair still damp from his morning swim in the heated pool. He always felt rejuvenated by the exercise and also by the chance to chat with other seniors in the building. All were enthusiastic about the facilities provided, and keen to share their lifestyles now that they had so much more free time and energy.
“Monica and I are flying off to see friends in Florida next week. We’ll maybe pop over to Mexico for a week before we come home again. It’s such a delight to know everything here is looked after for us.
What plans do you and your wife have? This is such a long cold end to winter, it’s good to get a break from it.”
Aylward explained about Marian’s heart problem and received sympathy from the well-muscled senior as well as advice.
“You know, I had a heart attack a couple of years back. It was what brought us to this condo building and it was the best thing we ever did for ourselves. Since I recovered, Monica insists we take every opportunity that presents itself to go away and enjoy the sun. She says you never know for whom the bell tolls and I think she’s right. A trifle negative, perhaps, but basically, she’s right.
My advice is, don’t you and Marian wait too long for a holiday or anything else you want to do.”
* * *
Aylward was still thinking over what he had been told while rubbing his hair dry and changing into less casual clothes. The habits of a lifetime had not altered because of his altered circumstances. He knotted a tie around his shirt collar and went to find his wife.
“My dear, I think we should be planning another week in our Mexican paradise.”
“A little less traumatic than the last time, I hope!”
He was surprised that she did not object and took it as a sign she was feeling much stronger and more confident of her capabilities.
“Indeed! We would go on our own this time. I don’t believe any of the family may be free to leave this month but you can ask Jillian on Tuesday to announce the offer just in case there’s anyone who wants to accompany us.”
“What a good idea, Aylward. I’ll do that. Wouldn’t it be nice if Zoe and Wesley could join us? Such a charming couple. We really owe them a holiday after all they did for us. I imagine, however, they are too busy with their new son.”
In one of those moments when a person has to believe that somehow the universe is in synch with them, the phone rang. Marian reached over to answer and her face showed her shock at what she was hearing. She soon handed the phone to her husband with one word, “Wesley”.
Aylward took the phone, somewhat prepared, after seeing Marian’s expression. As the conversation proceeded he found he had to sit down beside his wife. She held his hand until he had finished. He had responded to Wesley with only a phrase or two indicating his understanding. He ended with “Yes, I will do that,” and “Our love to all three of you.”
Marian waited with a sinking heart. “Tell me.”
“It’s Zoe.”
“Wesley’s voice sounded so sad when I picked up the phone. Please say she and the baby are well.”
“I’m afraid it’s not good news. Now don’t upset yourself Marian. Take a deep breath and I’ll tell you what Wesley said.”
He waited until his wife had calmed down before he began again.
“The baby is in fine shape. He’s happy and healthy. The problem is that Zoe has not bonded with him in the usual way. Wesley suspects she has a form of post-partum depression and he has asked me to think about this and call him later if I have any suggestions. He is trying to cope on his own. For obvious reasons, that has been exceedingly difficult.”
“The poor girl! She must have help. What will you do Aylward?”
“Frankly, I have no idea. I must think about it and consult some colleagues. Wesley wants to know if we have any new approaches to this problem on our side of the Atlantic.”
“Is that likely?”
“Probably not, but I will check anyway.”
“Oh, Aylward, after everything those two did for Portia, I do wish we could help them.”
“I imagine Wesley has tried everything he knows. It’s been some weeks now since we got the birth announcement from England. As you can imagine, my dear, there is nothing more frustrating than to be unable to help your nearest and dearest with a problem that falls within the range of your own medical speciality.”
“Do you mean you have dealt with post-partum cases in your psychotherapy practice?”
“I have in the past. It is not a simple matter and it is not possible to predict which mothers will be affected.”
“Well, I will send a letter to Zoe at once and I will call Megan and ask her to do the same. Jillian will be glad to send good wishes also. We are all mothers. We know the first few months are not easy for any woman. She must be distraught, after waiting so long to have a child and having to endure this trauma.
Please look into the extensive medical literature as soon as you can, Aylward. This situation has a much higher priority than our early holiday plan.”
Aylward nodded in agreement. His mind was already roaming through the list of physician resources s
tored on his computer. He would dedicate however many hours it took to refresh his mind on this particular area of depression and talk to Wesley again as soon as he could discern even a glimmer of hope.
Abigail Beck had called a Zoomer friend, Sarita, on a whim. It was Sunday evening and she had nowhere to go and no one to be with. Portia had gone home to see what a weekend with her mother felt like.
Abi did not want to backslide and call Kevin again. That would be an act of desperation and desperation was never again a weakness she wished to ascribe to herself.
Sarita worked in the magazine offices as manager of projects and profiles. She had been encouraging when Abi first joined the team and had given her the heads-up on a number of company procedures that were different from any Abi had known in the newspaper business. Because of her bad experiences with unscrupulous magazine hacks in her previous work life, Abi was anxious not to step on any toes or align herself with the wrong people at Zoomer. Sarita had often given her reliable directions and they had established a kind of limited friendship, since Abi was often working on research outside the offices.
This would be an opportunity for the two women to get closer and see how they got on in a social situation. If she accepted the invitation of course.
It was quickly established that Sarita was free for the night and happy to share a meal with Abi.
She suggested a new Sushi bar and they agreed to meet there for drinks and snacks and see how the evening went after that.
Abi took the time to dress carefully. She wanted to look smart, fashionable, but not provocative. This was a female evening out, not the kind of thing she had prepared for when with Kevin. He preferred the slightly slutty look. She pushed those outfits to the very back of her closet and noticed Portia had removed some clothing items. That could be a good sign. Even if Kevin was truly a thing of her past, she would appreciate having the extra space in her apartment closet. A chance to spread her wings for a while. There had always been the necessity to keep things ultra tidy while living with Portia since she might report back to her mother or her grandfather. Abigail Beck was under no illusions about the size of the debt she owed to her grandfather. It was much more than a financial obligation related to this expensive downtown apartment. She realized he had been a good influence on her decisions.
