“Umm…where we left off? I believe you called me ‘Your Majesty,’ and I peeled out of the parking lot like a spoiled brat.”
She laughed. “Well, then let’s start from the day before that.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it, and he fought the fierce temptation to pull her into a grateful embrace. His relief at their reconciliation was boundless. A nagging knowledge ate at him: they would eventually have to deal with this again. But he pushed the thought away determined to take each day as it came. No use trying to look too far into the future.
Christmas went by more easily than it had in four years. For the first time since Ellen had moved to Parkside, John didn’t bring her home for the holiday. She had become calmer in the past few months, partly due to a new medication her doctor had prescribed. But now, any change in her routine seemed to cause her anxiety. The doctor recommended they bring Christmas to her rather than taking her home.
It was a nice Christmas, both at Parkside and back at the house on Oaklawn. The kids were all home, and Ellen’s parents were there, of course. They had visited Ellen in the afternoon, taking the gifts there to be opened, but the real celebration took place at the house. It was almost as though they were weaning themselves from Ellen. Her absence wasn’t felt quite so keenly now that everyone was accustomed to her being at Parkside and John being alone in the big house.
With Christmas over, the day of Brant and Cynthia’s wedding was fast approaching. John was grateful for all the preparation involved in getting this son of his married. It took his mind off the worries about Ellen—and off his guilt over Julia.
He had no idea that the groom’s parents had so many responsibilities. There were tuxedos to order, a rehearsal dinner to plan, gifts to buy. It was a bittersweet time. John remembered so clearly the joy he and Ellen had felt as they planned Jana’s wedding. He longed for the old Ellen in a way he hadn’t in many months—both for sharing the happiness of this occasion and for the practical help she would have been. He knew exactly nothing about wedding etiquette.
Jana was very helpful when she could find the time. If he asked for it, Julia offered wedding advice, too. But of course, her help had to be given from afar.
John and Julia had agreed it would be best not to mention their friendship to the children. Julia’s boys—because their allegiance to their father was still so fresh—might not understand John’s place in Julia’s life. John’s kids lived far enough away that there was no need to discuss it with them and risk a misunderstanding.
John felt somewhat troubled that he and Julia had this secret to keep. It seemed to degrade their friendship. But they had talked about it at length and both felt it was best this way. So they continued week after week, meeting in the park, playing therapist to each other and growing closer day by day.
One evening as they jogged in the park, they came face-to-face with Sandra Brenner. John was embarrassed. Stuttering and stammering, he introduced the two women, deftly skirting any mention of his relationship with Julia.
Sandra shook Julia’s hand warmly, and gave John a knowing smile before she jogged away.
That night when John was getting ready for bed, the phone rang.
“John, hi. It’s Sandra.”
He steeled himself. “Hi, Sandra.”
“Hey, I just want to put your mind at ease. I know you were uncomfortable introducing me to your girlfriend. I just want you to know that I understand. And I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves to have some happiness, it’s you.”
“No…Sandra, you misunderstood.” He was angry at her assumption. “Julia is a good friend, nothing more.”
A long pause. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, don’t go jumping to conclusions. That’s not fair, Sandra.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But I think Ellen would understand if—what’s her name? Julia?—if she were more than a friend. I don’t think Ellen or anyone else would judge you if you found someone else. Ellen is the same as dead, John. I admire your devotion to her, but don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“Ellen is very much alive, Sandra. If you’d go visit her once in a while you might know that.”
“I—I’m sorry, John.” She sounded truly repentant. “I shouldn’t have said that. But you know what I mean. She’s not going to get any better. And, John, it’s not as though you’re going to hurt her. She won’t know. I’ve visited her recently enough to know that.”
“Well, thank you for your opinion—I think. But please don’t start any rumors, Sandra. I assure you, Julia and I are friends—nothing more.”
He slammed down the phone. It sounded so cheap to hear Julia called his “girlfriend.” Could he trust Sandra? He’d told her the truth, and he would feel awful if rumors to the contrary started going around town.
But Sandra had planted a seed in his mind. Would anyone judge him? Could he be justified if this friendship were more? He brushed the thoughts aside, but the seed germinated somewhere in the back of his mind.
Chapter Thirty-One
John began to worry about Julia. She had been depressed since Christmas and had begun to drop hints that she wanted to break off their friendship. He knew she longed to be married again. Over the last weeks and months she had dated off and on, but hadn’t met anyone yet that she wanted to date steadily.
She usually told John whenever she had a date, partly because she had to break their jogging dates. Sometimes she would report back to him about how the evening had gone. After all, they were just friends.
But he was miserable when he knew she was out with another man. Another man, as though he were her man. He pushed the thought from his mind.
He’d begun to do that a lot lately—push out all the thoughts that crowded in about them being more than friends. Because he was married, and they were just friends.
The morning of Brant and Cynthia’s wedding, John woke to a gray fog hanging over Chicago. The January air was frigid, but Brant’s spirits were buoyant.
John, Brant and Kyle drove to Chicago early in the day and dropped their garment bags and shaving kits off at Mark and Jana’s apartment. Then Mark took the guys to a basketball court at the community gym where they played a cutthroat game of two-on-two.
They came back to the apartment in high spirits and took turns showering, shaving and eating the sandwiches Jana had waiting for them. She clucked over them like a mother hen, straightening their ties and spit licking Kyle’s hair till he threatened to do her bodily harm.
It heartened John to see his kids enjoying one another, looking forward to a happy occasion together. There had been too many somber meetings between them lately. And while Ellen’s absence was keenly felt, John knew they had each come to terms with it in their own way.
Jana, especially, seemed to have a new peace about her mother. She drove to Calypso several times each month to visit Ellen at Parkside. She usually stopped by the house afterward, declaring to John how good all the staff were to Ellen and how nice her room was. John suspected she was still trying to convince herself that sending Ellen to Parkside had been the right thing to do.
Marriage agreed with Jana. He watched her bustling around their apartment getting ready for the wedding and pride swelled in him. Jana looked radiant in the cranberry-colored satin dress she’d bought for the wedding. Her hair was cut in a new shorter style, and John was startled by how much she looked like Ellen.
Finally it was time to leave for the church. The ceremony began promptly at four o’clock. Though the fog had not lifted, inside, the chapel was beautiful in candlelight and simple ivy greenery.
Brant and Cynthia had chosen to have a small wedding. Only Kyle and Cynthia’s sister stood with them as attendants. Their families and closest friends waited expectantly, scattered throughout the first few pews.
John felt a surge of happiness for Brant as he met his bride at the altar. Cynthia was breathtakingly beautiful in the elegant white gown. Her blue eyes met Brant’s,
and the love they shared was unmistakable.
John’s throat swelled with emotion—joy and pride in this handsome, noble son who stood before him, and great hope for the future Brant and Cynthia had ahead of them. Yet underneath the joyful sentiments lay a deep sorrow for what they all had lost. The contrast between Brant and Cynthia’s closeness and John’s utter loneliness was acute. And painful. If only Julia could be here beside him. What a comfort she would have been.
The thought startled him. Why was he thinking of Julia today? It should be Ellen—his wife, Brant’s mother—who he was longing to have at his side.
Two voices began to quarrel inside his mind. He felt as though he stood on the brink of a crucial decision—perhaps a life-changing decision. Surely he deserved the love and companionship that Julia had added to his life. The thought of her brought a smile to his lips.
He knew he could not go on with Julia as they had been. The passion was too great. There was more—much more—simmering between them than friendship, and it begged to be fulfilled. He had grieved—oh, how he’d grieved for Ellen. But she was gone. She was virtually dead. There was so little left of Ellen’s spirit—the Ellen that he had loved. It was hard for John to visit her anymore. He’d remained faithful to go to her nearly every day, but it had been months since she’d uttered his name. He couldn’t remember the last time.
And though the tantrums had abated, her constant nonsensical jabbering repulsed him. It hurt to be repulsed by someone who had once been so dear to him. But once was the operative word. There was nothing left of Ellen that was dear to him now…nothing but memories. And even those were fading.
He felt like an old man when he was with Ellen.
It was Julia who was dear to him now. She was alive and vibrant and responsive. She made him feel like a twenty-year-old kid. He loved her! He hadn’t really admitted it to himself until now. But he had no doubt that she loved him, too, even though they’d not yet dared to speak the words. He was certain she felt the same about him. And he needed so to be loved right now.
The organ stopped playing, and an expectant hush fell over the small sanctuary. The minister, his hair and beard white with age, but his voice rich and sonorous, began the litany of the marriage ceremony.
Cynthia’s father gave his daughter’s hand to Brant, and the couple turned to face each other. Brant repeated the vows after the minister. “I, Brant, take thee, Cynthia, to be my lawful wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward…”
Brant’s next words gripped John like a vise, and the quarrel in his mind became fierce. “…for better or for worse…” He and Ellen had shared so many years of “for better”—but now he was living “for worse.”
“…for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…” But this was a sickness that had no end, like a death. Ellen would never recover. Sandra was right. Ellen may as well be dead.
“…to love and to cherish from this day forward…” He had loved and cherished Ellen with all of his heart. He had been good to her. He had taken care of her—was still taking care of her. And he would continue to do so. Julia would help him take care of her. They would never let their love abandon Ellen.
Then Brant spoke the words that would forever transform John. “And to thee only will I cleave, as long as we both shall live.”
Thee only…thee only…thee only—the words echoed over and over in John’s mind—as long as we both shall live.
A wave of nausea washed over John as he watched Kyle and his bride light the unity candle. A snippet of Scripture that Oscar used to quote wove itself through his mind, slicing like a knife. “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward a man according to his conduct, according to what his deeds deserve.”
John caught his breath. His own heart had deceived him mightily. The truth that had been veiled to him now lay stark and naked in front of him. He saw exactly what his conduct—his deeds—deserved, and it pierced his spirit to the quick.
John Brighton had once stood before a holy altar and spoken a solemn promise in front of God to his bride. Many years and much sorrow lay between; nevertheless, it was an eternal promise he had made. Even before that, before he’d ever met Ellen, the picture of that young college boy standing in a lonely dorm room, his father’s crumpled obituary in hand, was vividly clear in John’s mind. He had taken an oath to be the husband his father had never been.
A crystal recollection of that resolve came back to him now. John Brighton was a man of his word. Could he face his children, could he face Howard and MaryEllen or the memory of Oscar and Hattie; indeed, could he face himself, if he carried out what he’d sat in this church—this hallowed place—and planned to do? He knew now that the precipice he was about to plummet over was his very honor.
He had tried to justify his love for Julia, because, in a way, it was a pure love. There had been only one embrace, and they had both fled from that. Yet, the truth was, every time he saw Julia, every time he heard her husky voice, it stirred embers of passion that threatened to burst into flame.
Like all bridegrooms, he had made his promise to Ellen without knowing what the future held. Now it was time to redeem that promise.
Could he bear to give up Julia? She had been the only light in the dark nightmare he was living. Though he loved her with all his heart, he knew for certain he could not continue to see her without tarnishing his honor, without defiling the holy ground of his marriage.
He stood at a crossroad today, on the verge of trespass.
Deep sadness welled inside him. Yet stronger than the sadness was the peace that poured over him as he determined to do the thing he knew he must now do.
Oh, God. I’ve been so blind. Please forgive me, please! And give me the strength I need….
Cynthia was speaking her vows now. In the quiet of his heart, John echoed the words, renewing the promises he had made to Ellen at that altar so long ago. I, John, take thee, Ellen…in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish from this day forward, and to thee only will I cleave as long as we both shall live…as long as it takes, El.
The organ swelled and the soloist took the platform to sing a wedding prayer. What happened next, John could only call a miracle. Outside the chapel windows, the fog lifted almost instantaneously, and rays of sunlight flooded through the stained-glass windows. The sanctuary was bathed in a golden light that was almost tangible. He would have thought it an apparition that only he had seen, had he not heard the audible gasp of the congregation.
John felt he had received a holy blessing. What had begun as a willful decision to love Ellen anew, in an instant became a full-fledged emotion. A new, pure love for his wife rained down on him like a fountain, and he felt the cleansing the fountain offered as surely as though it were streams of living water.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In spite of John’s sadness at knowing he must say goodbye to Julia, peace engulfed him, wrapping him in a blanket of assurance. He was doing the right thing.
It would be right for Julia, too. It had been unfair to tie her to himself as he had. Genuine love would let her go. It would free her to find someone to share her life completely, in a way he was unable to do.
He had been flirting dangerously with sin, and as the revelation unfolded, he was ashamed. He’d tried to fool himself into believing he was above temptation, but now he saw how close he had come to falling. He’d held God at arm’s length, fearful of coming into the light, lest the true motives and intentions of his heart be exposed. They had been revealed after all—with glaring acuity.
His deepest guilt was that he had carried Julia along in the charade. Now he had to tell her of his transgression, and he knew it would hurt her deeply.
He was surprised to find that he spent no time worrying about what he would say to her. He trusted the words would be there when the time came.
He and his little family sent Brant and Cynthia off on th
eir honeymoon in a shower of good wishes and love. John and Kyle stayed in Chicago with Mark and Jana Saturday night. Early Sunday afternoon Kyle caught a ride back to Urbana with a friend who lived in Chicago. John left for home a few hours later.
The ride back to Calypso was lonely compared to the revelry of the drive into Chicago with his sons. But he was glad for the time alone to think and to pray about the changes he needed to make in his life—and about how he would tell Julia.
He wanted to make a clean break. He didn’t want to leave her hanging in any way. He had cheated her long enough of the chance to start a new life and make new friends and meet someone who could share her life.
In many ways she was still grieving Martin, even though it had been over two years since her husband’s accident. It was partly John’s fault that she still grieved, for he had put her in a limbo that had forbidden her to move forward in the process of letting Martin go. John knew Julia wouldn’t see it that way, but he saw many things more clearly now. His decision had illuminated truths that he’d been completely blind to before.
In spite of the gnawing sadness, in spite of the aching emptiness he already felt at the thought of losing Julia, he felt like a man reborn. It amazed him. It was liberating to be doing the right thing, and to know without a doubt that it was right.
John turned onto Oaklawn just as the sun was sinking below the rooftops. His old house hadn’t looked so warm and friendly in a long time. Even the stark gray branches of the January trees looked welcoming, ushering him home.
He wanted to call Julia…to warn her. It didn’t seem right to spring this on her without preparing her. He wanted her to have time to see, as he did, that his decision was right.
He showered and dressed, then went to the phone on his nightstand and dialed her number. As the phone rang on the other end, and he realized he was about to hear her voice, his resolve weakened for the first time since Brant’s wedding. But he steeled himself to go through with it.
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