and I’ll never forget it. I love you, baby-doll. I love you; I love you; I love you.” He kissed her again.
Exploiting his emotions felt liberating and fabulous. He wanted the moment to last forever. It didn’t. Jennifer pulled away while their lips were connected. She took him by the hand and looked him in the eye.
All business, she said, “I’m pregnant.”
Richard flinched. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m pregnant and I want to keep the baby.” Her eyes stayed with his, and when he tried to look away she gave his arm a yank. “How do you feel about that?”
Feeling manipulated, which wasn’t a feeling his wife evoked very often, Richard allowed a moment of undisciplined honesty. “Shocked.”
“That’s a far cry from being overwhelmed with joy.”
“Yeah, but…” A fumbling of words led to: “I thought the doctor said you’d never have children? What happened to that?”
Jennifer huffed, offended. “This is good news, right? You love me more than I’ll ever know, correct?”
“I’m just––”
“You’re not happy.”
“I’m surprised, is all… of course I’m happy.”
“You don’t look happy. You don’t sound happy either.”
Richard turned towards his car, ignoring the fact that his wife was perturbed. He needed get behind the wheel and drive, because continuing this conversation was dangerous and disturbing and an assessment of his thoughts wasn’t going to help anything. He wasn’t happy; that was the truth of the matter. He wasn’t the slightest bit pleased. If anything, he felt scared. And maybe a little sick.
He said, “I’m going to get going.”
“Just like that? You’re leaving me?”
Richard swallowed back whatever emotions were bubbling to the surface. He could feel a cold shiver sashaying up his spine as his stomach churned into concrete. “Look,” he said, faking a smile. “I’m happy. This is great. We’re going to start a family and I think that’s excellent, but I have to go… Steve’s waiting. Let’s talk about it later.”
Jennifer’s eyes morphed into slits. She wasn’t thrilled but she didn’t want to fight. “Will you call me?”
“I’ll try, but you know how work gets. If I don’t get a chance to call you tonight I’ll see you in three days.”
“Are you mad?”
“Mad?” Richard smiled, and this time he didn’t fake it. “I’m not mad. This is great news, honey… really. Like I said, I’m just surprised. I thought we were going to adopt.” He kissed her then. It was uncomfortable and clunky and the opposite of affectionate. And although he wanted to restate the fact that he loved her, somehow he couldn’t find the words.
He turned away with a sigh, made for the car, and tossed his travel bag into the trunk. After he jumped behind the wheel he gave his wife a little nod and hit the road. Lips pursed, dimples lost, he didn’t look back. He didn’t even wave. Five minutes later he parked against the curb so he could cry his eyes out without driving into a tree.
* * *
They’d been sitting next to each other for thirty-five long minutes and Steven Wendelle knew damn-well that something was bothering Richard from the moment he sat down in the car. He could see it in Richard’s eyes and hear in his voice, which wasn’t exactly non-stop with discussion. The pain appeared to be rooted directly into the lines of his face, chewing at him like a virus, turning him into an old man before his time. But Steven was a good friend, his best friend, and sometimes a best friend must bite his tongue. He figured this was one of those times. Besides, the conversation would happen sooner or later. It always did, once Richard was ready. He wasn’t the type of guy to bottle things up forever.
Thirty-five minutes became forty-five. Forty-five became an hour and fifteen. The grace period was over; it was time to put dinner on the table.
“Okay,” Steve said. “Spill it.”
“What’s that?” Richard’s voice was little more than a croak.
“I’m not blind, you know. I’m not stupid either. Clearly, something’s wrong. Tell me what’s bothering you, otherwise the rest of our journey is gonna be painful.”
Richard took a moment, not because he didn’t want to talk with his friend but because he needed a moment to put his thoughts into words. Finally he settled on, “It’s Jenn.”
“I figured. You guys fighting?”
“I wish it were so simple. No, we’re not fighting. In fact, we’ve been getting along wonderfully.”
Steven’s face turned grave. He tapped a hand against his leg, saying, “She’s sick.” It wasn’t a question.