But right now Monica was galaxies away from her carefully cultivated element. Jeffrey was centered within the heart of his family. Jeremy’s family. At this moment, everything she longed for the most remained painfully out of reach, yet at the same time, it was on display before her like an explosion of glitter dust floating on the air—breathtakingly beautiful, yet impossible to claim as her own.
So, Monica couldn’t muster much of a reaction to his arrival other than a wan smile. “I did see you play. You’re outstanding. Are you having fun with all your cousins and aunts and uncles?”
“Mm-hmm. I like food.”
Spoken like a true Edwards. Monica couldn’t help melting just a trace; she even chuckled. “Me, too.”
“Is it fun? Are you fun, like me?” He tilted his head. “You look sad.”
Taken thoroughly aback, Monica opened her mouth, intending to answer, somehow. Words stalled. She looked at Jeffrey and her mind went blank. Early on in her career, Monica had learned absolutely nothing escaped the notice of a child. She should have remembered that axiom.
Jeffrey’s brows pulled together until they puckered with curiosity. “Wanna pway again? I pway a game wif Uncle Marty.” He pointed toward a nearby gathering. “You pway good games. C’mon!”
The youngster smiled; Monica ached. “No thank you, Jeffrey. I’m going to go back inside and warm up for a little bit.”
He surrendered with a nod, but watched her in continuing bewilderment. “’Kay.”
After Jeffrey scampered off, things progressed a bit more comfortably until dinner ended. Elsie went about taking meal-concluding coffee orders.
“Decaf, please,” came Daveny’s surprisingly chipper request.
Kiara spoke up, sounding equally cheerful. “Since misery loves company, I’ll go for some decaf as well, Elise. If it’s not too much trouble.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Seriously? Decaf? After a dinner like this? You two need to learn how to drink coffee.”
As realization dawned in Monica, the table at large shared a round of laughter at Jeremy’s oblivious words. Elise, frozen in place, simply stood at the counter, a coffee pot suspended in her grip. She stared at the two women; she began to smile, and glow. Tears filled her eyes.
“Sorry to humiliate you, JB,” Daveny said, “but I’m on decaf for at least the next six months.”
“Hmm. More like five for me,” Kiara chimed in.
Ken couldn’t seem to resist. He slid the thick fall of Kiara’s dark blonde hair over her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. He rested a protective hand against her abdomen.
Jeremy eyes widened as he finally caught the gist of their interplay. “We’re pregnant?”
Daveny and Kiara cracked up, and the Edwards family erupted with congratulations and delighted, happy shouts. “We’re pregnant,” the women said in unison.
“I refer to it as an abundance of blessings,” Ken concluded, keeping loving hold of his wife.
It took every ounce of willpower and grace Monica possessed to keep from running out of the room in tears. She only hoped the assemblage would blame her flushed cheeks and moist eyes on the news of the day and nothing else.
In truth, her heart was shattered.
****
The congratulatory hubbub slowly died down. As quickly as tact and discretion allowed, Monica intended to head outside for a spell of cold, reviving air. Respite became paramount.
An abundance of blessings. Ken had put it so well.
But what about the other side of that coin? Monica wondered, ceding a mite to the devil’s temptation. What would the good pastor have to say about a denial of blessings? What about trampled hopes? What about a literal and figurative emptiness?
Resentment pushed into her heart. Bitterness cut a deep line into her spirit and moved right in. Trying hard to outrun her feelings, Monica walked through the kitchen. A set of sliding glass doors led outside like a portal to salvation.
“Monica?”
She froze and winced at the summons that came to her from behind. Her hands trembled, but she steadied herself and turned toward Jeremy’s mother, schooling agitation from her features as best she could. “Yes?” She forced a smile and bullied herself to be carefree and calm. The attempt failed abysmally, and she knew it.
“You seem…” Elise stumbled over her words. She frowned and lowered her gaze briefly. When she looked up again, it was plain to see she was fighting a battle against interfering and pushing at her son’s girlfriend.
They were both walking on eggshells, Monica realized.
“You’ve seemed troubled throughout the day today, and…I wonder why. I just want to know if everything is OK.” Elise, who was probably a gregarious, outgoing woman by nature, right now, struck Monica as completely uncertain, and stilted. Monica’s heart thundered and a lump formed in her throat. But no way could she—or would she—open up. Not even a trace. Cracks in her weakening control system would explode beneath an onslaught of once tightly held emotion. Emotion Elise Edwards would never understand.
So, in essence, Monica ducked for cover. “Please don’t worry,” she said too brightly. “I’m just fine. I only wanted to…” She looked almost desperately toward the sanctuary of the deck. “Uh…”
Elise didn’t bother stifling a sigh. Obviously disappointed, she shook her head. “Let me know if you need anything. Will we see you back at the table shortly?”
“Of course.”
With that assurance, Elise left for the kitchen, but Monica wilted.
What a horrible way of reacting to the woman’s hospitality, Monica thought, shamed and regretful at once. She had to escape—just for a minute, long enough to recapture her equilibrium. She moved quickly. Unlatching and opening the doors, she embraced the instant sense of peace and solitude. The spacious deck was empty now, cleared of furniture and accessories as winter dawned.
Don’t be this way, she chided herself. It’s wrong. Self-pity won’t change anything. Daveny and Kiara have every right to be thrilled. Furthermore, to do anything less than celebrate would hurt them and hurt Jeremy. He brought you here today for a reason. He wants you to become a deeper part of his life. It’s an honor. Don’t blow it!
But the battle was like trying to beat back the whirling vortex of a tornado with nothing but smoke and mirrors.
She sank onto a set of steps that led to the backyard. She couldn’t help admiring the gorgeous landscaping. Had to be the doing of both Elise and Daveny. Though winter rode in fast, groupings of hearty, large-headed mums still spotted the grounds with autumnal color. The grass remained thick and well-tended, a deep hue of green. Monica lost herself to the scent of burning wood that came from the chimney, the bracing chill of the wind. She quieted her mind. For about two or three seconds.
Why were others so abundantly blessed, as Ken put it, when by contradiction, her lot in this life was empty and barren in more ways than one? Why did others have it so easy—the relationships, the kids, the fulfilled lives, when that very destiny, the one she craved above all others, would never be hers to claim?
It was so easy to believe in God, and His blessings and grace, when your prayers were answered.
Dimly conscious of warm moisture on her cheeks, Monica blinked rapidly, aware now that tears fell from her eyes.
God, I hate feeling this way. It never ends, though. It never goes away. You don’t seem to let it. Instead You always seem to narrow my world into a hyper-focus that leaves me seeing nothing else but what I lack, and everything I want so much but will never be able to have. Why?
Not much of a prayer, but right now, Monica didn’t feel like God was much in the mood for listening—or answering her plea.
“Hey there, Jellybean. I thought this might come in handy right about now.”
Jeremy.
Monica ducked her head and swiped fast at her cheeks. Meanwhile, from behind, he handed her a large, bistro mug of coffee. The warmth against her cold fingertips, and the fragrance, took a bit of the
edge off her mood almost immediately.
Jeremy sat down next to her, silent, looking out upon the barren, wavering tree branches, the cloud-thickened sky. Monica stole a glance at him. A loose oxford shirt, comfortable jeans, lent him an air of casual appeal. Jeremy Blaise Edwards was impossibly handsome, but beyond that, he was finely attuned to the ones he loved, and he possessed a heart full of compassion and tenderness. Consequently, his presence in her life seemed yet another way God was letting her down.
Sure, she thought. Show me the love, and promise, of a man like this. Tempt me with everything I want but can never possibly hold on to…then take it all away because I can never, ever be what he wants, and needs, the most.
“Thank you,” she replied belatedly, but with genuine gratitude.
He looked into her eyes with that tantalizing quirk of a smile. The man left her aching, longing. Generally, she called the shots, and could perform breezy, graceful steps back when things got this complicated with a man. Not this time, though. Why, why, why?
“You’re welcome, but I caught the vibe, Monica. I want to know what happened. Can you talk to me about whatever it is that’s been bothering you today?”
She sighed out a puff of air. “JB, some things you can’t change, or help with, no matter how much you may want to.” She chewed on her lower lip and looked away.
“No,” he murmured. “Not this time.” Jeremy tucked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head, directing her gaze to his. “Keep it right here.” He stroked her cheek softly.
Such tenderness, so much caring. Every bit of the world she wanted was captured deep within his dark brown eyes. Those eyes were her undoing, and she backpedaled in fear. “I just needed some air. Really. No big deal, I promise.”
“And that would be strike two, Monica.” His irritation grew. She heard as much in his tone, and in the fact that Jellybean had reverted to Monica. “That makes twice you’ve backed away from me. Twice you’ve flat-out lied about something you’re going through that’s troubling. You did it at Polonia, and you’re doing it now. Well, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”
Her heart dissolved. Desire flowed hot, strong and tempting. But rationality entered the fray as well. “Not right now, OK? Not right this second. Not when your family is in the middle of a wonderful, happy celebration. I need to keep it together. Please understand.”
“Fine. But, when I take you home tonight, we’re going to talk.” There was no room for negotiation. She breathed out heavily, and she stood, but Jeremy caught her hand and held it tight. From his perch on the deck stairs, he looked up at her while he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Don’t shut down. Not with me, and not with them.” He indicated the people inside with a nod toward the house. “Share this with us. It’s important. Because you’re important.”
Her chin quivered at his words. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Then like I said—don’t close off.” He stood smoothly, keeping her hand in his when they walked back inside.
Hearts Communion
10
While Jeremy focused on the drive to Monica’s place, she shrank into the far side of the passenger seat and closed her eyes. Bracing herself, she prepared for the emotional blow she knew was coming. After all, following today’s events, he had every right to be put out by her standoffish behavior. “Jeremy,” she began timidly, “I’m so sorry I let you down.”
No JB. No flirty sass. Instead, she stared straight ahead, into a curving roadway sided by towering trees. Homes, occasional stores, and strip malls flashed past. Silence pressed in on her from all sides, oppressive and nearly claustrophobic.
Sorry I let you down. Those five small words formed a haunting refrain, followed by the main verse: And this is only the beginning.
Jeremy turned into the entrance of Monica’s subdivision. “I just don’t get it. Kids are your passion. They’re the largest part of your life. You love them. But today, with my family, and especially when Dav and Kiara made their announcements, when I figured you’d be one of the largest parts of the cheering section, you vanished. You sparkle, and you’re so easy to be with, and enjoy. But today you backed yourself into a corner and not only did you refuse to leave that corner behind, you came off seeming—” He paused. Shrugged. “Distant. You were defensive. For the life of me, I don’t understand why.”
His tone, laced by frustration, seeped into her system like some kind of slow-acting, destructive poison. The only anti-venom? Revelation.
They reached her home. When Jeremy parked, Monica looked straight ahead. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” she began, quietly. “I didn’t want to feel the way I did today, Jeremy. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop what came over me. I try, and I try…but…”
Jeremy touched her shoulder. His eyes glittered in the dim illumination of her neighbor’s garage light. “Monica, what is it? Please tell me what’s going on.”
She squeezed her hands into tight fists. Before he could turn the tables, and gain an upper hand in this conversation, an upper hand she was in desperate need of maintaining, Monica exited his truck and walked into her home. Jeremy followed while she flicked on a couple lights and greeted Toby. After Toby leaped around Jeremy’s legs, familiarizing himself with this intriguing stranger, and after the dog received a series of hearty pets and greetings, Monica released him into the backyard for a late-night romp so she could talk to Jeremy in peace.
As they sat on the couch in her living room, she began anew. “About today. First and foremost, let me repeat the fact that I’m sorry. Please know I didn’t mean to hurt you, or anyone else.”
“Apology accepted, Monica, but that’s not even the issue for me right now. Not anymore. You’re the issue. Something hurt you, and I want to know what it is. It’s as simple as that.”
“And as complicated,” she whispered, blowing out a breath she held too tight in her chest. She spoke up louder now. “Actually I had a good time, but…”
Jeremy cut in. “But. That’s the issue. Talk to me about but.”
Instinctively she looked up, searching his eyes. The degree of emotion she found there hit her senses, struck heat to her soul. The feelings between them had deepened with such heady speed. That fact alone wouldn’t alarm her, but so much stood between them. All would be lost once he knew the truth about her, and that made everything about this day painful, and bittersweet.
“OK, let me try to get this out,” she murmured, more to herself than Jeremy. She stood to pace the living room. In counterpoint, Jeremy remained seated. He seemed so calm. So rock steady.
“I enjoyed your family very much. They’re funny and warm and loving. They’re a symbol to me of everything you deserve, and probably long for in a family of your own. You told me yourself that you’re mapping out a legacy. You want to keep tradition, and a family’s love, alive in everything that you do. That’s a beautiful thing.”
“Monica, where is all of this coming from?” When she didn’t answer right away, Jeremy persisted. “Let me in. Show me that you trust me.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying desperately to hold herself together while she took a sledgehammer to their relationship, a relationship she would have loved embracing. “You want children and a family more than anything, right?”
“Ultimately, yes. Absolutely.”
“So do I.” She spun toward him, desperate to avoid the fateful blow, but unable to stop it.
Jeremy waited, obviously not yet understanding where the conversation was headed.
“But I can’t be what you want. I’m not able. I can never get pregnant. I can never have children. I can’t. I can’t ever fill that part of your life—or my own. Your family is wonderful. That’s honestly how I feel, even if I showed it poorly today. And family is of vital importance to you, Jeremy. That truth colored my entire time with them, and with you. It shredded a part of my heart, and my hopes for you and me.”
His brows pulled together. He sho
ok his head slightly and gave her a startled look. “What are you saying?”
“I’m infertile. The medical term for my condition is endometriosis. My case is severe enough that ultimately I may even require a hysterectomy.”
His silence, hers coupled with it, allowed the charged air between them to settle a bit. Monica forced herself to take a few deep breaths to re-steady her trembling legs and hands.
She waited on him, stiff tension climbing up her back inch by fateful inch as the silence continued. She watched Jeremy blink free of his thoughts and lock focus on her face, then her eyes. “Wh…when? How did you find out? I mean—”
Monica stood stock still, facing him as straight as she could manage. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
She remained frozen in place, in time. “It’s got a lot of detail you may not want to hear.”
“This is your life, right? The battle you’re fighting?”
She nodded.
“Then don’t cushion me. Or us. There’s nothing about you that I don’t want to hear about, or know about. Believe that.”
The us portion of that sentence sounded so good. In fact, it skimmed against her skin like the stroke of a sable brush.
“OK. For better or worse.” She paused. “When I”—she shrugged delicately—“came of age physically, I had issues from day one. Symptoms started small, but built, year-by-year, until by the time I was halfway through college, I had it all. The swollen stomach. Nausea. Blinding headaches. Excessive bleeding. To cap it all off, the middle of every blessed month was an odyssey of pain.” Memories crashed in—leaving her feeling so bereft. So unfeminine, and immodest. That’s why she could discuss the condition with Jeremy now. She had been forced to become clinical about it all. Detached. Except when in the company of large, loving families. Expanding families. Being with the Edwards’s today filled her with an ache so acute, so pervasive, it knocked the very breath right out of her.
Hearts Communion Page 7
