The Marriage Wish (12 page)

She nodded.

“Where’s the best place to clean the fish?” she asked as the boat pulled up to his pier.

“I have a cleaning table already set up in the boathouse. I can handle this part of it, Jennifer, if you would like to go ahead and take the cooler up to the house.” He handed her the keys.

“Anything you need?”

“A pan of water to put the fish in. Try the cupboard to the left of the sink.”

“No problem. I’ll be right back.”

Scott had already cleaned two crappie by the time Jennifer joined him. She set down the pan of water on the worktable beside him. “Thanks.”

Jennifer watched him fillet the first bass. His movements were smooth. She could appreciate the skill. Jennifer quietly studied him as he worked.

Scott looked over, caught her look. He smiled. “For lunch,
how about if we wrap the fish in foil with a little garlic butter and almonds, put it over a hot grill? Maybe fix baked potatoes, as well? There is fruit salad in the refrigerator,” Scott suggested as he worked.

“Sounds wonderful,” Jennifer agreed. She smiled. “I just realized how hungry I am.”

Scott chuckled. “Nothing is better than fresh fish when you are hungry.” Their footsteps echoed across the redwood deck.

It had been a long time since she had done such a normal thing as setting the table, Jennifer realized as she set their places. It was odd, how being a widow changed things. It wasn’t worth the effort to fix a meal for one, so she rarely had a need to sit at her dining room table. More often than not, she ate a sandwich at her desk while she worked. She had missed this normal routine.

She joined Scott on the patio when she had finished. “The coals should be ready in about fifteen minutes,” he commented, adjusting the vents under the grill. He accepted the cold soda she had brought him. “To save time, I think we’ll bake the potatoes in the microwave. I’m ready to eat.”

Jennifer chuckled. “No debate here.”

It proved to be a very simple recipe for fixing the fish. A piece of foil, several pats of butter, a little lemon juice, a dusting of garlic and lots of sliced almonds. The foil was twisted into a thin tube. “Nice,” Jennifer commented.

Scott smiled. “Simple. I eat a lot of fresh fish.”

Jennifer was pulling the hot potatoes from the microwave when Scott pushed shut the patio door, carrying a platter of fresh baked fish. “That smell’s wonderful.”

Scott set the platter down on the hot pad Jennifer had found for the table. “Wait till you taste it, Jennifer. It’s unbelievably good.” He held her chair out for her. “Be care
ful when you open the foil, there will be a lot of steam,” he cautioned.

Jennifer savored her first bite. “This is delicious.”

Scott smiled.

They talked casually over lunch, both avoiding talking about last night. Jennifer finished off two full packets of the fish, as well as the baked potato, before admitting she was full. The fruit salad made a delicious dessert. “That was a great meal.” She stifled a yawn as she finished the sentence.

Scott debated offering her coffee, but the whole point of the day had been to help her sleep. If he took her home now she would probably fall asleep in the car, and that was not a very comfortable place to get some rest. “I have a lot of guest rooms here, Jen. Why don’t you take a short nap and then I’ll run you home. I have a couple of calls to return.” The answering machine had been blinking when he checked it before lunch, but none of the calls had been urgent.

“Scott…”

“Please.”

“A guest room would be very welcome.”

He offered her a hand. “Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.” Jennifer let him escort her down the hall and to the stairway.

This was not a smart move. Jennifer was trying to form the words to back out and ask him to take her straight home, but they had reached the top of the stairs before she could get the words in order. Scott stopped by the first door. “Here you go.” It was a beautiful bedroom. Delicate rose print wallpaper. Thick cream carpet. The dressers, the bookshelf, the bed, all early American antiques. A colorful homemade wedding ring quilt was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

She looked lost. Scott forced himself to smile gently, leave her there. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Just turn right at the bottom of the stairs. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Scott,” she said faintly.

He closed the door softly behind him as he left.

Jennifer stood inside the door of the room for some time, getting used to the sounds of a foreign place, letting her nerves settle. She should not be here. She sighed. She was in no shape to leave. She moved hesitantly toward the bed. Scott was right, she needed to sleep.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. It was a nice mattress, not too soft, nor too hard. She slipped off her shoes. After a few minutes more thinking about it, she turned the covers down and stretched out. Immediately her body relaxed. Her sleep was that of exhaustion.

S
cott quietly pushed the door of the guest room open. It was a little over an hour since he had shown Jennifer to the guest room. She was asleep, as he’d hoped. She had one hand tucked under the pillow, one hand curled under her chin. Her wedding ring was leaving a mark on her face. Scott carefully shifted her hand. He studied her for a few more moments before quietly slipping out of the room.

The grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway was chiming six-thirty as Scott again quietly pushed open the guest room door. She had not stirred in hours. Scott set a single rose down on the bedside table and tucked a note under the stem. Frowning slightly, he paused by her bedside. She was exhausted. But if she slept much longer she would not be able to sleep tonight.

“Jennifer.” He gently shook her shoulder. “Jen, it’s time to wake up.”

“Go away, Jerry,” she murmured, rolling over and taking the quilt with her.

He chuckled. “Jen, it’s Scott. Come on, honey, wake up.”

Her face appeared from beneath the quilt. She blinked at him a couple of times, then groaned. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About four hours,” Scott replied.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry, Scott. I could have slept at my own place.”

He grinned. “No problem. I like having you here. I laid out fresh towels and a new toothbrush in the guest bathroom if you would like to freshen up. Dinner is in twenty minutes.” He turned toward the door.

“Scott.” He paused by the door and turned to look back. She ran her hand through her hair. “I need to go home. I can’t impose on you any longer.”

He just smiled. “Nonsense. Twenty minutes.” He disappeared out the door.

Jennifer pushed back the quilt and sat on the edge of the bed. There was a single peach rosebud on the end table. “Oh, Scott. It’s beautiful.” She picked up the rose, gently fingering the soft petals. The note lying under the rose was clearly meant for her. She picked it up. “Jen, stay for dinner. Please. Scott.”

The note folded in her hand. “Okay, Scott,” Jennifer whispered quietly. She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs tottered beneath her. “Come on, Jennifer, wake up,” she chided herself.

She found the towels and the toothbrush laid out on the bathroom counter just as Scott had described. Back in the guest bedroom five minutes later, her face washed and her unruly hair pulled back into place, Jennifer quickly straightened the covers on the bed.

Carrying her shoes, Jennifer went downstairs. She dropped the shoes on the rug by the front door. Scott was in the kitchen, humming a tune along with the radio as he tossed a large salad. “Something smells delicious,” Jennifer remarked, pausing in the doorway as she took in the scene.

Scott looked up. He smiled. “Lasagna.” Wiping his hands on a towel, he came over to join her. She looked so much better. Her eyes were clear, she had color back in her face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Jennifer replied. “A little groggy.”

They sat down to dinner a few minutes later.

He was in love with this lady. Scott didn’t fight the growing conviction in his heart. Having her here made his house feel like a home. He’d give a lot to make this a permanent arrangement.

“Did your calls go well?”

“Yes. Most were just clarification.”

She nodded. “What did you do while I slept all afternoon?”

I spent the afternoon thinking about asking you to marry me.
He didn’t say the words. She was not ready for that discussion. She wouldn’t be until she dealt with what she had lost. Her husband. Her daughter. But the day was coming when she would be ready. He was an optimistic man; someday she was going to be ready to get married and have a family again. He answered her question about his afternoon. “I worked on making a dog bed. Heather and Frank have offered me a choice from Blackie’s latest litter.”

Jennifer nodded. “Quigley is adorable.”

“Thanks. I thought so.”

They had finished dinner. “Interested in some coffee?”

Jennifer nodded. “Sounds good,” she agreed.

They cleared the table together.

“Let’s take the coffee into the library,” Scott suggested.
He led the way through the quiet house. Scott pushed open the French doors across from the living room. “This is the library, and beyond it, my office.”

It was a small room, formal, with a love seat and two chairs, two antique mahogany tables. The four walls were recessed bookshelves. She could spend hours enjoyably browsing this room. She idly walked along the shelves, reading titles.

“Your books are on the third shelf to your left.”

Jennifer looked over. She smiled. “They look impressive, all lined up together.”

Scott smiled. “They certainly do.”

Jennifer sat on the love seat. Scott chose the seat across from her, stretched out his legs.

“I love this room, Scott.”

“I thought you might,” Scott replied. “I’m glad you agreed to come today.”

“I’ve enjoyed it,” Jennifer agreed. She sipped carefully on the hot coffee. It was delicious.

“It’s chocolate mocha,” Scott said, noticing her surprise.

“I like it.”

“Jennifer, would you come to church with me this weekend?”

She didn’t answer for some time. “I might,” she replied. “Why are you asking?”

“You need to heal that relationship, Jen, or you are not going to be able to put this behind you.”

“Scott, you can’t fix things just because you want them to be different. My daughter died. God was the only one who could intervene. He didn’t. That is not easy to move beyond. I feel like I was betrayed.”

“Have you told Him that?”

“Yes.”

“What has He said in reply?”

She didn’t say anything for some time. “I haven’t listened to find out.”

“Are you at the point where you can listen?”

“Maybe.” She had to admit she would like her relationship with God healed. “If I go to church with you, people will think we’re a couple.”

Exactly.
“I’ll do my best not to put you in any uncomfortable position.”

She nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled slightly. “I don’t sing very well. Just to warn you.”

“I won’t hold it against you.” She looked very peaceful sitting there, her feet tucked beneath her, her head resting back against the couch. He was beginning to recognize the expressions on her face. She was thinking about the past again.

“I wish I had a picture of Colleen with me so I could show it to you. She had such vivid blue eyes. She used to tilt her head just this certain way and look at you. Then smile.

“She was so tiny when she was born it was a struggle for her to be awake. It took all her energy. So she would lie there and blink at me with this surprised expression in her eyes. They had to feed her through patches on her back for the first two weeks. It was such a wonderful day when she began to suck.”

“What do you miss the most, Jennifer?”

“The fact my life doesn’t revolve around her anymore. She gave me a reason to get up every morning. Even if the routine consisted of going to the hospital for the day and sitting with her, she was there. It was devastating after she died not to have her there. I had grown so attached.”

“Do you think about having other children?”

“No, never. Colleen was such a traumatic experience, it is going to take a long time for the intensity of those memories to fade. I couldn’t risk going through that again.”

“You loved Colleen. You would love another child with the same intensity.”

“In my mind will always be the fact I lost my eldest daughter.”

She opened her eyes to look over at him. “Scott, you don’t watch someone you love die without carrying that image with you forever. There isn’t room inside me to love another child, the grief for Colleen is too large. It shadows everything I have done in the past three years.”

Scott wished he could ease the pain she felt. “Have you ever considered writing about Colleen?”

Jennifer just shook her head in reply and then sipped her coffee.

The room was silent for several minutes.

“Why haven’t you ever married? You’re not a bachelor at heart.”

He smiled slightly. “I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Are you close to your parents?”

“Yes. We have always been a close family. It’s been that way for several generations.”

“You have a large extended family?”

“I have five cousins, most with families, and my grandparents on my mother’s side are still alive. What about you? Is it just you and Peter?”

“Yes.”

He could not comprehend being that alone. It was a dreadful thought.

It was hard to let the evening end on such a heavy note.
But he didn’t try to lighten it. Jennifer needed the time to just have someone listen.

“I guess I’d better get going now.” Jennifer set her mug down on the coffee table. Scott glanced at his watch and agreed that it was getting late.

They drove to Jennifer’s house in a comfortable silence. She hugged him when they said good-night. “Thank you for today, Scott. I needed it.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.” He gently brushed her cheek with his hand. “Try to sleep, okay?”

She nodded. “Good night, Scott.”