‘Is that how you see yourself? As a mistake?’
‘How could I not? I wanted to be loved so much. I wanted them to put their arms around me and give me a proper cuddle. I wanted someone to tell me that they loved me and that I was their whole world.’
‘I did.’
She smiled, feeling tears at the backs of her eyes. ‘Yes, you did. Meeting you was the best thing in my life—after my work. The first time we met at the hospital there was something about you that made me feel as if I couldn’t even breathe.’
‘How did you become a midwife? What made you go down that path? Was it something Sylvia suggested?’
‘No. I saw a documentary on television. Sylvia and Martin were out at a church dinner with friends, and there was a documentary on following the journey of an embryo from single cell to living baby. It was all so fascinating to me, and when they showed the birth… The miracle of the baby being born was one thing, but all I could see was the look in the eyes of the mom and dad. Such joy…such love. Pure elation. I wanted to experience that.’
‘So you started training?’
She nodded. ‘I worked hard at school and got to college. So I could experience that love again and again and again. I think a small part of me wanted to believe that was how my mother had felt when she had me. It’s a privilege to be in the room when a mom gives birth. I didn’t realise how special it would make me feel. How honoured. I loved it. I still do. But I’ve always craved experiencing it myself.’
Sam let out a big sigh. ‘You had it tough. With your aunt and uncle, I mean.’
‘Some people have it tougher.’
Sam sipped his drink.
‘What about you, Sam?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Tell me more about your family. I don’t really know much about them, apart from their names and what they do for a living. We hardly see them. I think the most I ever saw them was at the wedding, and then they kept themselves to themselves.’
Sam let out a big sigh. ‘Where do I start?’
‘At the beginning.’
He gazed at her and nodded with some reluctance. ‘There really isn’t much to tell.’
‘I think there is. Please, Sam. I feel apart from you. I feel like I’m stuck on this tiny island and you’re far out to sea with a rescue boat but you won’t come in to land. We need to talk…we need to share who we are so that we can start afresh. Unburdened. Nothing hidden.’ She laid a hand on his. ‘I know you have a secret, Sam. I don’t know what it is, but I want you to feel you can share it with me. If you don’t we’ll always be apart. We won’t get to fix this.’ She brushed his wedding ring.
Sam’s fingers enveloped hers and his thumb stroked the back of her hand. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Em.’
‘I don’t want to lose you either. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t judge. I won’t say anything. I’ll just listen.’
He exhaled. A big, heavy sigh. ‘It’s hard for me.’
‘I know. These things usually are. But I know from experience that they always seem massive until you unburden yourself, and then you feel a little better. A little lighter. You know what they say. A problem shared…’
‘Is a problem halved?’
She smiled. ‘I love you, Sam. I’m your wife. You need to be able to tell me.’
‘I’ve never shared it with anyone. None of us have.’
‘None of you? Your family?’
Okay, this is a start.
He nodded.
‘Then maybe it’s time?’
She hoped he would tell her. Whatever it was, if he and his family had kept this burden under wraps for so long then it was time it was given some air. It was like carrying a weight. No matter how small the weight, the longer you had to carry it the heavier it got—until you collapsed from under it.
‘You’re sure I’ve never told you anything?’
‘I’m sure. Come on—tell me. I want to know you properly, Sam Saint, and we’ve only ever skimmed the surface of who you are. I’ve spilled my family secrets. What are yours?’
She’d told him about everything. Her runaway mother. Feeling like she was a mistake. Being left behind. Abandoned. Emily didn’t want their child to feel it was a mistake, too. Conceived on a drunken night, during a truce between its parents, and then abandoned by its father. Not loved enough. Worthless.
She wouldn’t accept that. She wasn’t just fighting for her marriage here, but for her child. Their child.
She saw the agony on his face. The internal wrangling going on inside his head. The anguish. She knew his instincts were to keep it hidden still. It was what he had always done. But her words had clearly had an effect on him and she could tell that he knew what she said was true. If they didn’t tell each other everything then their relationship would be doomed to fail. Already so much of who he was, was hidden by the amnesia. He didn’t need to hide even more.
‘You know I have five siblings and Mom and Dad…?’
She smiled and squeezed his fingers in encouragement, her heart beating faster. He was going to share. ‘I do…’
‘Well, the thing you may not know is that Dad and I don’t really get on.’
‘Really? You seemed okay at the wedding.’
It was true. Sam and his family had been nothing but delightful to one another. Sam had seemed incredibly warm to his mother and his younger siblings. To his dad he’d been… She saw the flash of memory. Sam standing stiff and formal, shaking his father’s hand but keeping his distance. Not really talking, just a slight inclination of his head. An acknowledgement that his father had at least come to their wedding.
‘Was there a free bar at the wedding? That would have kept my dad happy.’
Emily frowned. ‘But he’s not a drunk, is he?’
‘He’s a…social drinker. He has his friends that he sees every day down at the bar. I hated it that a lot of our money as a family got poured down Dad’s throat when there were so many mouths to feed.’
‘You’re the oldest, right?’
‘Yes. There’s two years between me and Daniel, then a year later there was Clara then Warren, then Caleb.’ He paused, looking out across the water. ‘And then there was Serena.’
Emily blinked. What? But Sam was one of five siblings. Not six.
‘Serena?’
Sam shook his head and got up to begin pacing, uncomfortable with this subject but knowing he had to tell her. They were married! And she was right—she had to hear this. Or they’d be torn apart because the guilt he felt over Serena’s death was the one thing that was still tearing him apart, making him doubt his abilities to be a father.
‘The only good thing my dad did was give me brothers and sisters—but all I saw growing up was my mother, heavily pregnant again, struggling to get things done. As the oldest, I had to help, and because Dad was never around, always at the bar, I sort of became a father as well as a big brother to them all.’
‘That must have been hard for you.’
‘Yeah, well…I don’t like to focus on upsetting things.’
‘I’ve noticed. You’re a driven man. You’ve always wanted to be successful. Always busy.’
‘It’s how I was when I was a teen. There was always something to do—mow the lawn, fix a kitchen cabinet, a leaky faucet. You name it, I worked out how to do it. Because my dad couldn’t.’
‘Because he wasn’t there?’
Sam nodded once. ‘My dad was out drinking when my mom gave birth to Warren.’
‘Home birth?’
‘It was the same for all of us. I can remember being incredibly scared when Warren was born. Mom seemed in a lot of pain, but she was really cool about it in between contractions, you know? Like it was the most normal thing—which it was. But I was only eight. I didn’t understand. The midwife asked Mom if she wanted me in the room for the birth and she said it was up to me.’
‘And you said yes?’
‘No. I was too scared. All the noise Mom was making was…incredible. I�
�d never heard anything like it. And that was my mom, you know? I can remember cowering in my bedroom, listening to her in the next room, wondering why my dad wasn’t there to help her. It seemed to go on for hours—it probably actually did—and then there was this second of silence before I heard a new sound. A baby. Crying. And then there was laughter and joy and I could hear my mother crying again, but this time for another reason. I went back in and there she was, propped up in bed, smiling, tears of joy running down her face… It was the most amazing thing I ever saw.’
Emily smiled.
‘I remember telling my schoolfriends all about it. They all thought it was weird!’ He smiled at the memory. ‘And then Mom told us all she was expecting again. I couldn’t wait.’
‘An OB/GYN in the making?’
He laughed ruefully. ‘I guess. I was eleven when Caleb was born, and yet again I got to hear this miracle from the next room. I started telling anyone who would listen that I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up, so that I could deliver babies every day and witness the joy.’
She loved the enthusiasm in his voice at the memory of his happiness. She was elated that he still had all his past memories. They were important. He might have lost all sense of who he was and that would have been terrible.
‘And Serena?’ she asked with concern.
‘I was sixteen years old when Serena was born. My mom swore this was her last baby, and once again I got to hear my baby sister come into the world. She was tiny. Only six pounds. But she was beautiful. She didn’t cry. She seemed quite content and calm. That was how my mom named her. Because she was so serene. That was all she kept saying. “She’s so serene.” The midwife suggested it as a name.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Things were tough. Six mouths to feed, plus their own—my parents were struggling hard. Mom would clean other people’s houses for extra money, taking the little ones with her in a playpen. I already had a paper round and gave my parents most of my wages to help out. But all our money seemed to go over the bar, and I hated my dad for doing that. My mom struggled to put food on the table every day, but she did it. She made sure we were happy. And then one day I thought to myself, Who’s making Mom happy? Dad wasn’t. She wasn’t. She didn’t have time. So I took on extra rounds. The second I finished school I’d be out on my bike, hauling papers across yards, all around the neighbourhood. I saved the money. Kept it. When Serena was about four months old I suggested to my dad that he ought to take Mom out for a meal. Nothing expensive. Just a burger or something. I felt Mom needed it, you know?’
Emily nodded.
‘I said I’d babysit.’ Sam gazed out across the water and watched as a swan glided across its surface, followed by another about a metre behind. ‘My mom had never left us before. She didn’t want to go. I made her do it. Said she deserved a night out.’
‘You wanted her to have a break?’
‘Yeah. I had some tests to revise for, so I fed the kids, made sure they had their baths, and after Serena had had her bottle of milk I changed her nappy and put her in her room for the night.’
Emily could tell the bad part was coming. Sam looked pained, with lines across his brow, and his narrowed eyes were stuck somewhere in the past. He kept rubbing at his forehead, as if the telling of the story was causing him physical pain.
‘I checked on them all after an hour. They were asleep. They’d always been good sleepers. Never played up. They were all good kids.’
‘What happened?’
‘I thought they were okay. I made popcorn and sat down to watch a movie on the television. Mom and Dad came home and Mom, being anxious, went to check on them all.’
Emily laid a hand upon his arm to still him.
‘Mom screamed. I can still hear it so clearly up here.’ He tapped the side of his skull. ‘Blood-curdling, it was. Like someone had wrenched her heart from her chest. Something had.’
‘Serena.’
‘They said it was Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Nothing anyone could have done. Nothing anyone could have predicted. She just…died. The paramedics tried to revive her when they got to the house. I can remember sitting in the front room, hiding in the corner, hugging my legs and rocking, seeing the red-blue lights flickering through the windows and hearing footsteps above me. And all the time my mother crying. Wailing. Begging for it not to be so…’
‘Sam, I’m so sorry.’
She pulled him into her arms and held him as tightly as she could. No wonder he had never told her this story. It was awful! Terrible! She couldn’t imagine that happening. Not in her worst nightmares could she conceive how you would get through something like that. She knew that people did. They had clients at the Monterey who had lost children before, and she’d always been awed by their bravery and outlook on life.
Was this why Sam had never wanted children? Was this why they’d had so many arguments? He’d never told her before and now she could see why. And yet she’d pushed him, asking him over and over, until in the end she’d just given up and they’d stopped talking.
She felt so bad! Of course she’d wondered why he refused to talk to her about this, but now she knew. And she felt terrible for having pushed so hard.
‘I should never have forced my parents to go out. I should have paid more attention to Serena. I should have checked on her more often. I failed her. I was meant to be looking after her and she died and—’
‘Sam you were sixteen years old! You were still a child yourself. You can’t shoulder that burden. They told you it was an accident. Sudden. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘It feels that way.’
‘Is that why you never want to see your family? Why you never want them to visit?’
‘I see it in their faces when they look at me. Like an unspoken accusation.’
She shook her head and grabbed his arms, making him look at her. ‘They probably just miss you! Their big brother who always looked out for them suddenly doesn’t want them around. They’re probably hurt. They look up to you, Sam. Even I could see that. It’s possible they’re just wondering what they did wrong.’
He looked down at his wife’s face. ‘They did nothing wrong. It was me.’
‘It was not you. You were babysitting. You did everything right. You bathed her, fed her, changed her nappy, put her to bed. That’s what millions of parents do every night. They don’t stand over their children’s cots and count every breath. It’s impossible.’
He still looked shame-faced. Still looked guilty. But he’d made a start in sharing his burden. She was glad that he had told her. And suddenly she realised. Suddenly she remembered.
‘The candle was for Serena.’
He met her gaze. ‘Yes.’
She let out a long, slow, steadying breath. ‘Thank you for telling me, Sam. Now I understand why you—’ She stopped before she could blurt out any more. He didn’t need to hear that. They were here to heal. Paris was healing their hearts as well as their minds.
‘I’m afraid, Em. Afraid that I won’t be able to protect our baby.’ He laid a hand on her belly, gently stroking it, then knelt down in front of her, laying his head against her belly as if trying to hear a heartbeat. ‘What if I fail our child?’
Her heart was almost torn in two as she heard the heartbreak in his voice. He’d agonised over this. ‘You won’t. It’s okay to be afraid, Sam. It’s okay to have fears. All parents do.’
He lifted his head to look at her. ‘Do you?’ He seemed to doubt her words.
Emily rushed to reassure him. ‘Of course I do! What do I know about being a great mother? Did I have a fabulous role model? Did my aunt provide me with a loving example? No. Neither of them did. I worry that I’ll get this wrong all the time. What if I’m awful at being a mom? At something that I’ve wanted for so long?’
‘You’ll be perfect.’
‘And so will you. Believe me, Sam, I know you will. You care so much. But you know what? We can be afraid together and struggle together. We’re strong
that way. We’re determined. Driven. Remember?’
Sam stood and looked down into her face. ‘What would I do without you, Mrs Saint?’
‘Let’s hope you never have to find out.’ She smiled. ‘Look, we’re here—in the Temple of Love. Let’s make a promise to each other to always be open and share our fears. If there’s a problem, we tell each other about it. Deal?’
‘Deal.’
Sam pulled her towards him for a kiss. It felt like the start of something new. An opening. An honesty between them that had never been there before. Her lips on his sealed the promise that their hearts were making.
‘Thank you for telling me, Sam. It means so much to me.’
‘You’re right. I do feel different for having said it out loud.’
‘The pain won’t go. Not totally. But it can be different now—just you see.’
‘Thanks, Em.’
He pulled her close once more and they stood there, in the Temple of Love, enveloped in each other’s arms, and just held each other.
Em knew they’d taken a huge step forward today. She’d been right to bring him here. To ask him to share this. It shed new light on all Sam’s past behaviour. Perhaps she had enlightened him, too, on why having a baby had meant so much to her?
There was still so much for them to do, but right now things were moving in a positive direction.
She could only foresee it getting better.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY HAD A beautiful evening picnic. The hotel had packed some delightful food in the basket—a salade niçoise with mixed herbs, olives, anchovies and potatoes, a sausage and potato galette, a haricots verts salad with quail eggs and tiny shrimp, goat’s cheese and tomatoes. There was also raspberry clafoutis, pound cake and sables biscuits, all served with a small bottle of white wine, sparkling and still water, and a tiny bottle of alcohol-free rhubarb wine.
They sat in the temple, overlooking the water, quietly eating their evening meal and enjoying the sounds of nature in the air: the occasional duck quacking, the lapping of the water below, the wind rustling the trees.
Eventually Sam packed everything back into the basket, and on their way down the rocky stairway to the boat they paused a moment to look inside the grotto. The stony caves were a mix of dark and light, jagged rocks and stalactites.
Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise Page 11
