Let Me Love You. Linda Walters
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“Well, say something,” she offered.
“I’m not sure I understand. You said you think. When will you know?” he asked quickly, not wanting to react before there was certainty.
“Well, I’m late and I took one of those home tests a little while ago. According to the test, I’m pregnant,” she ended, her face showing a mixture of emotions.
Terrance held his breath, took one of her hands into his and said slowly, “I thought we agreed we would wait.”
“I know but I can’t help it if it happened. I didn’t see you saying anything at the time it was occurring, so don’t start now,” she snapped, then jumped up and ran into the bedroom.
Terrance continued to sit in the same spot for the next twenty minutes, unable to go to her. A baby would change things, that much he was certain of. They’d barely made a dent in the mountain of bills they’d each brought to the marital table, not to mention the student loans they each carried. His concern was strictly practical although he also wondered if he possessed the parenting skills necessary to produce a well-rounded human being. As the sun went down, that thought plagued him as he washed, waxed and buffed both of their vehicles. He focused on the task at hand, not allowing his mind to acknowledge any of the thoughts which threatened to break through.
By the time he came back inside, Brianna had dinner on the table and seemed to have also put the exchange behind her. Two days later, the test results were confirmed by her physician. A baby was on the way.
Meanwhile, Terrance avoided the discussion, avoided his wife and did his best to ignore the obvious. Although Brianna hadn’t brought the subject up again, he recognized that the longer it took for them to hash out their differences, the more entrenched she would be when the time finally arrived. And so, from the start, he knew that his stance was a moot point.
Brianna went through the nine months of pregnancy without incident, but the couple had already suffered a crushing blow. They spoke rarely and discussed things pertinent to the baby only when necessary. The irony of it was that once Brianna gave birth to their daughter, Jacqueline, the feud was inexplicably over.
As soon as he held his daughter in his arms for the first time, Terrance realized he had never known unconditional love. What he felt for the bundle within his arms was and would probably always be unsurpassed by anything he felt for anyone else on the planet.
Months passed, but Brianna never forgave him. And he never forgave himself for second-guessing Jacquline’s entry into the world.
The doorbell rang then, breaking Terrance’s thought pattern. A dinner of brown stewed chicken, steamed vegetables and salad was delivered from a local restaurant he’d called. Terrance ate slowly while watching the evening news. His mind was still on the conversation with Branch.
He also wrote out a check for the monthly child support, then went online to make a round-trip airline reservation to Fort Lauderdale.
Branch’s statement stayed with him and he wondered when, if ever, he’d be done with playing catch-up to all the people he owed some form of consideration to. He’d been alone for the past months, but felt good about it. Twice monthly weekend visits with his daughter kept him going and for that much, he was grateful. He’d always wondered why couples fought so bitterly for child custody when they could more easily share the burdens and joys. It simply made sense to him.
With that thought, Terrance picked up the phone and dialed. Brianna answered on the second ring and he took a deep breath before speaking.
“Hi—it’s me.”
“Hello, Terrance—Jacqueline is asleep already,” she responded, shortly.
“Have I gotten you at a bad time?” He wanted to ask why she sounded so winded, then caught himself. It was no longer his business what she did, when she did it and with whom. So he just waited for her to respond to his question as asked.
“I was exercising. Listen, can you call back tomorrow night, but before eight o’clock? I try to get her into bed by then or otherwise, it’s a fight to get her up in the morning.”
“Yeah, I know she’s not a morning kid, at least not yet,” he said, wanting to lighten the conversation. What he really wanted to do was to talk to her, but he sensed she was not willing to engage in that kind of exchange, so he continued to hold the phone in his hand, wondering why on earth he was feeling so melancholy.
“I don’t know that she’ll ever be. Kids just need more sleep. Anyway, I’ll let her know that you called. She gets excited whenever your name is mentioned.”
Terrance smiled then and relaxed a little. “Does she? So, she’s still Daddy’s little girl, hmm?” He couldn’t help himself. The thought of Jacqueline’s face when she smiled almost broke his heart, but he’d already done his crying, already had his meltdown and now was not the time to revisit that place.
“Absolutely, but isn’t that always the way? Mommy gets to do all the hard work and Daddy gets all the glory. It’s a story that’s as old as time,” Brianna ended, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice.
Terrance figured it was time to end the conversation then, knowing he was in no mood to hear charges of recriminations or to have a guilt trip laid at his feet.
“Well, I’ll keep the eight o’clock slot in mind and be sure to call before then from now on. You take care of yourself, Bree,” he added, wondering why she’d hung up on him before.
“You, too. And I will remember to tell her that you called,” she added. She wanted to say more but something stopped her.
They both hung up then, aware that there were things left unsaid, but grateful that they had been able to leave it that way.
Terrance showered, turned the radio to his favorite jazz station, killed the lights and got into bed. Just before he closed his eyes, the thought of Jacqueline’s smile entered his mind.
Chapter 3
Days later, the weather forecast for the entire peninsula of Florida was ominous. On Thursday, Tropical Storm Charley was off the shore of Florida and it looked like it could be upgraded to a category four storm.
After carefully deliberating the wisdom of traveling under such conditions, Skye was en route to Atlanta’s Hartsfield Airport. In the end, it was still out at sea and she decided to take the chance that it wouldn’t hit. She’d wrapped up all the loose ends on several loan applications she’d been working on, changed her voice mail, notified her assistant of any possible emergency contingencies and left detailed instructions on how to handle each scenario. She was also reachable by both cell phone and BlackBerry. Current technology left nothing to chance.
Skye breathed a sigh of relief as the cab stopped at the central terminal building of the sprawling airport. All during the ride, she’d listened as the driver’s radio blasted an ominous weather forecast.
The cabbie shook his head, his corduroy shirt seeming to suggest that milder temperatures were just around the corner. Skye wondered if he realized it was sixty degrees.
“Storms like this one seem to keep happening this year,” he said, his voice filled with something close to awe and curiosity. Even though he never took his eyes from the road, Skye could still hear the mixed emotions coming from the driver’s statements. It was apparent by his voice that he, too, was less than thrilled about the current forecast.
“Yeah, this is the third time we’ve been under a tropical storm watch in less than two months. Fort Lauderdale hasn’t been hit hard but I’m still worried. Do you think the flight schedules will be affected?” she asked quickly. She’d thought of canceling the trip, then realized that weather prediction was still an uneven science. There was a chance that the storm would never reach the United States, much less Florida.
“You’ll see in a minute. If you want me to wait, I will,” he added, turning suddenly to reveal a lopsided grin.
Skye