Читать книгу Always a Mother - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 11

AS DEAN DROVE TOWARD Lake Travis, the bright Texas sun dimmed to twilight gray. Darkness would soon blanket the hills and Claire still hadn’t called. If she couldn’t get him at home, she’d try his cell. But so far nothing. He knew something was really wrong.

For once everything was right in their world. Both their daughters were on their own. Their youngest, Sami, already had a job at a school in the nearby town of Round Rock. Both girls had received the education Claire and Dean had wanted for them. And now Claire had the time he’d always wanted for her—time for herself—to earn that college degree.

Ten days and her dream would start becoming a reality. His own college days had been one big guilt trip. He’d been away at games, traveling, while Claire was at home working and taking care of a new baby.

It wasn’t long after Sarah was born that they noticed the wheezing. She was also phlegmy, with a constant cold and cough. At times she didn’t want to nurse. Claire was continually in the doctor’s office with her. The pediatrician kept her on antibiotics, and they worried about their baby taking so much medication.

Then the ear infections started, and Sarah was hospitalized twice for pneumonia. Claire got very little sleep because the baby needed lots of attention. That made her load heavier, but she’d never complained. Several nights Dean found her in the rocker, crying and holding Sarah. Claire was worried something was really wrong with their child and the doctors couldn’t find it. Dean was worried, too. He would sit and hold both of them until the morning light. That was all he could do, and at times he felt so helpless.

The first few months, Claire couldn’t work, and lost her jobs. His mother helped, and Dean tried to take care of Sarah at night. But Claire always seemed to be awake.

At times it was a struggle for Sarah to breathe. Claire did tons of research and insisted on a diagnosis. The doctor suspected she had asthma, but said Sarah was too little for him to know for sure. He said her airways were inflamed, and would heal with antibiotics and time.

That wasn’t good enough for Claire and Dean, and they immediately switched doctors. Sarah was put on a nebulizer machine for albuterol treatments. It plugged into the wall and had tubing and a mask that went over her nose and mouth. The medication went into the machine and Sarah breathed it in. They saw results almost immediately.

The new doctor agreed that Sarah had asthma, and said that some children grow out of it. But at least their baby was getting better. Dean and Claire were so relieved.

It was a hard time, however. Sarah also had allergies, and Claire washed her bedding every day to get rid of dust mites. They covered the mattress and pillows with allergy covers and gave away all her stuffed toys. Bunny bought a humidifier because they couldn’t afford to.

Once they adjusted to Sarah and her needs, life settled down. Claire started tutoring students so she could stay at home. The pay was very good and it worked out well.

Dean had heard it said that you can’t live on love, but during those first few years they had very little else.

CLAIRE STARED AT THE phone, wanting to call Dean. She needed to hear his voice, but she wasn’t ready to tell him yet. She had to continue to examine her life alone—to measure the sacrifices she’d made. Were they sacrifices or was that what love was?

She opened a letter—one she’d written while waiting for Dean to come home from a football game, a time she’d questioned that sacrifice.

Dean,

Sarah had one of those days. Nothing seems to help her breathing and she’s fussy. I feel so helpless…

The page blurred.

November 12, 1983

SARAH WAS SIX WEEKS OLD and Claire had been up with her most of the night. She was exhausted, her nerves frayed. She curled up in a rocker, trying to get Sarah to nurse, but the baby kept spitting out the nipple. Claire worried she wasn’t getting enough milk.

Texas was playing football and Claire flipped on the TV to watch her husband. Bunny came by to catch the game with her, and made popcorn. Claire was glad to have her company.

Just as Sarah went to sleep, Bunny yelled at the TV and the baby woke up.

“Sugar, I’m sorry. I get all excited when I see my boy getting bruised.”

“It’s okay.” Claire stood. “I’ll put her in her bed and maybe she’ll sleep for a while.”

“Why don’t you lie down, too, sugar?” Bunny suggested.

“Are you kidding? I want to watch Dean so I’ll know what he’s talking about when he tells me about the game.”

Sarah went to sleep quickly, and Claire hurried back to the living room. The game was tied, with less than ten seconds to play. The two women sat on the edge of their seats, biting their nails. Texas had the ball. The quarterback threw a long pass, and Claire and Bunny jumped to their feet, holding their breath as the pigskin sailed through the air. Dean leaped high in the end zone and dragged it in with the tips of his fingers. The fans went crazy and Claire and Bunny hugged, careful not to shout too loudly.

With the game over, fans poured onto the field. A reporter held a mike out to Dean and asked him a couple of questions. The noisy crowd prevented Claire from hearing him clearly, but she saw his smile—that lazy grin that turned her knees to pure sweet honey.

His sweaty hair hung across his forehead and he reached up to touch it, a signal to Claire that he was thinking about her. Smiling, she tugged her hair in response. The camera followed Dean as he jogged toward the locker room. A blonde grabbed him and kissed him. The reporter commented he hoped that was Dean’s wife.

But it wasn’t.

Claire sank into her chair, her joy dissipating. For the first time, she realized other women saw Dean as an attractive man, just as she did. The understanding left her in a state of shock. She should be there with him, sharing these moments of victory in his life. Instead she was home, feeling very left out.

Bunny caught the look on her face. “Sugar, don’t pay that any attention. It means nothing to Dean.”

For the first time, Claire wondered about that, too. “I don’t know, Bunny. I’m tired most of the time. Sarah spits up all over me and I smell like spoiled milk. I don’t feel very attractive.”

“Now you just stop thinking like that right now, do you hear me? Dean loves you and that little girl in there.”

“But don’t you think he’s flattered by the attention?”

“He’s a man, sugar. Of course he is, but I know my boy. His one thought now is to get back to you and Sarah.”

Claire wasn’t so sure. Life just seemed to be one jolt after another, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it together. Could her parents have been right? Was she too young to even know what true love was all about? No. She would never believe that. Not for one instant.

That night she lay in bed waiting for Dean. The game was out of town, so she knew it would be late when he came home.

She was half-asleep when she heard his key in the lock. A few minutes later, he slipped into bed beside her.

“Hey, beautiful.”

She wiggled in his arms. “I don’t feel beautiful.”

“What?” He turned on the bedside lamp. “What’s wrong?”

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she sat up. “I saw you kissing that girl.” Claire hated that she couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

He caressed her cheek and she leaned her face into his hand, loving his gentle touch. “I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me, and I have no idea who she was.”

“Still…”

He reached for something on the nightstand. “I wrote this on the plane.”

Unfolding the paper, she read,

My sweet Claire,

Today I realized why I’m hooked on your kisses. They’re sweeter than watermelon wine and hotter than a hooker’s on Saturday night. No other woman can ever top that.

A bubble of laughter left her throat. “We’ve both had Bunny’s watermelon wine, but how do you know what a hooker’s kiss tastes like?”

He grinned. “Purely a guess.”

“Now I know why you made such awful grades in English.”

He gently laid her down. “There’s only one woman I want to kiss.” His lips trailed a line of fire from her neck to her jaw. When his mouth covered hers, any remaining doubts vanished. All she felt was happiness.

Looking into her eyes, he said, “I love you. Only you.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “You better. We have a baby to raise.”

He glanced at the crib. “I see she’s sleeping.”

“Yes, finally.”

“Tomorrow I’ll watch her and you can rest.” He rolled onto Claire. “But now we need some fun time.”

As he turned out the light she giggled like a schoolgirl. He wanted her. That’s what she needed to hear—to know. It was important to her as a woman.

But her faith in their love was tested once more.

When Sarah was six months old, Claire discovered she was pregnant again. She was on the pill, but something had gone wrong. Being up with Sarah so much, she was exhausted most of the time, and obviously had forgotten to take it. She cursed herself. She cursed Dean.

“God, this can’t be happening again,” he said when she told him.

“Well, it is. I can’t do this. I can’t handle two babies by myself. You’re gone all the time and I’m stuck here.”

She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. She’d never dreamed she felt that way. But she did.

“I help, too.”

“Your mother helps. Most nights you’re out having fun.” Emotions too long bottled up came spilling out.

“Claire, that’s not fair.”

“No, it isn’t,” she screamed. “I’m the one making all the sacrifices. I’m the one…” Anger consumed her and she tore out of the apartment.

“Claire,” Dean called, but she kept running.

She stopped in a small park on campus to catch her breath. Her head pounded with doubts, insecurities and with the reality of growing up. As an adult, wasn’t she supposed to be wiser? And wasn’t she supposed to have learned from her mistakes?

Sinking onto the grass, she wrapped her arms around her legs and watched as couples strolled hand in hand, oblivious to everything but each other. She and Dean had been like that, so much in love. Life and responsibilities were suddenly too much.

As Dean walked toward her, she scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

“Mom’s with her.”

“You always do that—call Bunny. Sarah is your responsibility, not your mother’s.”

He frowned. “I had to find you.”

Claire whirled away. “I can’t do this. I can’t have another baby. As soon as Sarah was better, I was planning to enroll for classes. Now…”

“What are you saying?”

She faced him. “I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. I…”

“I’m sorry you’re pregnant.” For the first time he seemed angry. “But you’re the one who forgot to take the pill.”

“Why is that my responsibility?”

He jammed both hands through his hair. “I don’t know. It just is.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be, because I’m lousy at it.”

His mouth twitched. “Honey…” He reached for her.

She backed away. “Don’t touch me. I can’t think when you do that.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. “I just want to feel happy again.”

“Claire, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her and she sagged against him. “I’m sorry life has been so hard.”

“I know.” She looked into his blue eyes. “Undo my bow.”

“What?”

“Undo my bow.”

Frowning, he yanked the ribbon that held back her blond hair, and it tumbled to her shoulders. She spun and took off running across the grass, her hair flying behind her. He caught her in less than ten seconds. Laughing, they whirled around as a light rain began to fall. They hardly noticed as they slowly began to dance, locked in each other’s arms. Raindrops pelted their heads, but they didn’t mind. They were young and in love and remembering how wonderful that felt.

“I love it when we dance—even without music,” he said, kissing her face.

The scent of rain mingled with the smell of him, and her heart brimmed with happiness. She’d lost it for a moment. “Me, too. I love you.”

He stopped moving and cupped her face, his thumbs making wet circles on her cheeks. “I love you with all my heart.”

She smiled, blinking in the rain. “We’re having another baby,” she whispered, feeling his love—the love that made her happy and complete.

“Yes.” He kissed her softly. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

DEAN DROVE UP to the lake house and saw Claire’s car. She was here. The heat of the day had subsided and a sticky warmth prevailed. But it was fresh, not contaminated with gas fumes or other foul city emissions.

He could barely see the house in the darkness, but he knew exactly what it looked like—brown cedar Hardiplanks with a wood deck on the front and the back. The interior was small, with two bedrooms, one bath and a combination kitchen and large den that overlooked the lake.

It had taken every resource they had to swing buying the place. Claire had made another sacrifice. She’d put off going to college so they could afford two house payments. He didn’t want her to, but Claire had insisted. That’s the way she was—always putting her family first.

The girls loved it here, but he wondered how often they’d come back now. Sarah was very studious, like her mother. She was doing an internship in law. Soon she’d take the bar. Samantha was more like him—an athlete. Tennis was her sport, and she was very good, an ace player in high school and college. She would now be teaching physical education and coaching tennis.

Memories swirled around him. He’d wanted to give Claire the world, but he’d busted up his leg in his senior year, and although it had healed, he knew he had to think about her and the girls. He had to be home for them, so he forgot his dream of playing pro football and took a job teaching and coaching.

He was now the head coach and athletic director at a high school. The last four years he’d been building a great team, and if everything fell into place as he’d planned, they were going to win the state championship again this year. Football was in his blood and probably always would be.

Just as Claire was.

Through the window, he could see her sitting on the sofa, the letters strewn around her. At forty-three she still looked beautiful, a gorgeous blonde with soft brown eyes. She had a kind heart and a sweet nature. That’s probably what he loved most about her. And she made him feel young, powerful and all male. Her breasts were fuller now, as were her hips, and she could still heat him up just as quickly as she had back then.

Back then…they’d been through so much. But in truth Claire had been through so much more than him.

December 26, 1984

CHRISTMAS WAS MEAGER at their house. He’d given Claire earrings and she’d bought him a pullover sweater. They’d spent the day at Bunny’s. Sarah was struggling to breathe and wanted only Claire to hold her. Dean took care of Sami, but he couldn’t nurse her, so he had to hand the baby to her, too. Claire was exhausted and he became more aware of that than ever, maybe because he was with them the whole day.

The next day he started practice for the upcoming bowl game. That evening when he came home, Claire was sitting on the living room floor nursing Sami in one arm while Sarah nestled into her side with a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, taking a treatment. Claire’s hair hung limply around her shoulders, sour milk stained her blouse and she looked as tired as he’d ever seen her.

He quickly sank down by her and took Sarah and finished the treatment. As he held his little girl, patting her back, she went to sleep. He carried her into their bedroom and laid her in her crib.

The apartment was cramped, with one bedroom, a living area and kitchen combination, and a small bathroom. He and Claire had a crib on each side of their bed, and that was a problem. She wasn’t getting any sleep.

As he returned to the living room, he saw Sami was through nursing. He scooped her out of her mother’s arms and burped her.

Claire’s head fell back against the cushions. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

Dean carried Sami to her crib and within minutes she was asleep. After partially closing the door, he went back to Claire. He gathered her into his arms and placed her on the sofa.

Kissing her gently, he said, “Just go to sleep, honey.” He reached for an afghan and covered her.

She snuggled into the cushions. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t.”

He turned off the lights and watched her for a moment before he made his way to the bedroom and closed the door. Both babies awoke during the night. He changed them, and gave Sarah a bottle after which she went back to sleep. But Sami was different. He carried her to Claire, who nursed her without really waking up.

Early the next morning he got up, made breakfast, then took it to Claire on a tray.

She stirred, glanced around and quickly sat up. “Where are the girls?”

“Asleep.”

She yawned. “What time is it?”

“About six.”

Her eyes went wide. “You let me sleep all night?”

“Yep. And here’s breakfast.” He pointed to the tray. “Scrambled eggs, toast and your favorite orange marmalade.”

“Oh, my. I feel like a queen.”

He sat beside her and took her into his arms. “You’re my queen.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You have practice today and I know you had to get up with the girls.”

“I can go on very little sleep.” He kissed the side of her face. “Football season will be over in a week, and classes won’t start for a couple more weeks. I’ll be here to help out more.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

He just held her and stared at the small Christmas tree they’d positioned on an end table. They had to put it up high because Sarah was walking and she’d pull it over in no time. Claire had decorated it with red bows and shiny balls, along with their special first Christmas ornament and this year’s new ornament. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Staring at the sparse tree, he vowed one day he would give her everything.

But “one day” always seemed to be out of his reach.

DEAN CONTINUED TO WATCH Claire through the window, and as he did, a frisson of fear shot through him. Why was she reading the letters? Could it just be nerves? Or was it something more? Suddenly he had to know.

He opened the door and stepped in.

“DEAN.” Claire wasn’t expecting him, and for a moment she was speechless.

“I was worried about you.” He moved some letters and sat beside her, kissing her cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm. How did you know where to find me?”

“A lucky guess.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and her heart contracted. He was so handsome. Threads of gray shone in his dark hair and his features were leaner, more mature. She loved him so much, but how were they going to get through this? How was she going to tell him?

“You didn’t have to come. I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air.” It was the first time she’d lied to him.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I’m not sure.” She bit her lip to keep from telling another lie. “Did you get Bunny settled?”

“Yes. She’s all moved in.”

“She should be living with us. We have room.” When Dean had gotten a job teaching, they’d bought their first house. Claire loved the older homes on the tree-lined boulevards in the old Tarrytown area near the heart of central Austin, so they’d bought a two-story Victorian that had been built in the early 1900s. After they renovated, it was the perfect home, roomy and with lots of character. They still lived there.

Dean shrugged. “You know how Mom is. She likes her independence. And she said we need some time alone. We’ve never had that.”

“Mmm.” Claire glanced at the letters, feeling her chest close up. It wasn’t going to happen now, either. How did she tell him that once again she’d screwed up? Although she wasn’t sure why she was blaming herself. Dean was involved, too.

He followed her glance. “Why are you reading the letters?”

She swallowed. “To remember—the good and the bad. To remember dreams that don’t come true.”

“Claire, your dream is coming true.”

“I…” Her throat locked because of what she had to say.

“I know you’re nervous about college, about attending classes with students younger than your daughters. You’ll be fine, though.”

“Don’t try to pacify me.” The words came out angry, though she didn’t mean them to.

There was silence—a strained silence, which was rare. They could always talk about anything. But now…

Dean pulled her into his arms and she snuggled against him. “What’s going on, Claire? Why did you just leave like that?”

“I wanted some time to think. That’s all.” Lazily, she drew circles on his T-shirt. She had to tell him.

“About what?”

She drew back and slowly raised her eyes to his. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a noticeable pause.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pregnant.”

He gave a fake laugh. “No. No way.”

“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Remember Cancun and I forgot my diaphragm so we used a condom? Guess what? It didn’t work—again.”

He sprang to his feet. “It’s just nerves. You can’t be pregnant.”

She held up the letters. “I remember thinking that twice before.”

“I refuse to believe it. You’ve been on an emotional high getting ready for college. That’s all it is.”

“I know when I’m pregnant.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No.”

“Well, then…”

“You can keep batting excuses through the air, but it’s not going to change a thing. I’m pregnant.”

As the words finally sank in, he closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “Oh, God, not again. Not now.”

“That’s why I wanted this time alone, to think about what to do.”

His eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”

“I have choices.”

“You mean…”

“I don’t know what I mean. I’m trying to accept this, trying to let go of that foolish college dream. But right now I’m stuck in anger mode. This time I want to take the easy way out and I can’t even believe…”

“What can’t you believe?”

She licked her dry lips, knowing she had to tell him what she’d done. “This morning when I realized what was wrong with me, I bought a pregnancy test. It confirmed what I suspected.” She swallowed. “Then I…I drove to the Planned Parenthood Clinic. I’m a woman. I have rights. And I wasn’t letting my dream slip away again. All I could think about was myself.”

“And?”

“I sat in the car praying for strength, and suddenly it felt like God slapped me in the face. I was thinking about killing our baby without even talking to you. I can’t believe I did such a thing.”

“Claire, honey.” He moved toward her.

“No. Don’t come near me or I might strangle you.”

He paled.

“I’m sorry. I have to sort through everything I’m feeling…alone.”

“But you’re not in this alone. It’s my child, too.”

She looked directly at him. “Yes, but your forty-three-year-old body will not be giving birth. Your dream will not be snatched from you again.”

“You can still go to college and be pregnant. A woman can do it all.”

“I don’t want someone else raising my child.”

“I’ll help.”

“Football practice has already started and your time at home is limited. That limits your help, too. And you’re hoping to get a college coaching job.”

“I’ll turn it down.”

She groaned. “Oh, yeah, guilt is just what I need.”

“Claire…”

“I’m the mother. I’m the one who will do all the work, the one to make all the sacrifices.”

“I made sacrifices, too. I gave up a pro football career.”

“You didn’t give it up. You injured your knee.”

“I still had offers.”

“What?” The color drained from her face. “You weren’t taken in the draft and you never mentioned any offers.”

“Because I knew it was time for me to be at home for you and the girls.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You kept it from me? Did you think I was so weak that I couldn’t take the news?”

“You’re the strongest woman I know and it was so long ago I don’t know why we’re talking about it.”

“Because you kept it from me as if I was some dependent, fragile wife who needed you at home.”

“Claire, I turned it down for two reasons.” He held up one finger. “I wanted to be home.” He held up another finger. “Because of my injury I would have been second string, and that wasn’t acceptable to me.”

She glanced down at her hands, some of her anger leaving her. “That must have hurt.”

“Not really. I had to put my family first.” He took another step toward her. “Honey, we can work this out.”

“Probably,” she said. “But I need some time to accept the pregnancy graciously and with love—the same deep love with which I accepted Sarah and Sami.” She wasn’t sure why she was fighting for time or why she was arguing with Dean. Maybe she blamed him. She needed to come to terms with that, too.

“So what are you actually saying?”

“I’m saying you go home and I’ll stay here.”

He paled even more. “You want us to separate?”

“Yes. For now. College starts in ten days and by then I’ll know if I’m going to go or not.”

“I don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.”

“I don’t either. All I know is that I have to keep remembering, reading the letters to experience that deep well of commitment and love I had then. I have to let go of the dream with dignity and not blame it on a precious, innocent baby.” She blinked back a tear. “We’ll be in our sixties when this child graduates from high school. Can you handle that? I’m not sure I can.”

“Claire…”

“I’m just being honest, and I hate myself for the selfish things I’m thinking. At this moment I hate everything.”

He swallowed visibly. “Do you hate me?”

She looked at him. “I’ve loved you forever. I love your smile, your kind heart, your compassion and caring, even the gray in your hair. I love everything about you, but I’m not feeling any of that love right now.”

“You will. The Claire I love can deal with anything.”

“Maybe this is the one thing she can’t.”

“I’ll never believe that.”

“Dean.” She sighed. “Go home and let me sort through this.”

“We’ve never been apart.”

“Yes, we have. It just never felt like it.”

He blew out a hard breath. “I don’t guess I have a choice.”

“No.”

He pointed to the letters. “Read every one of those and you’ll feel our love again. We can overcome anything, even having a child at our age.” He leaned over and kissed her lips. She breathed in his scent and forced herself not to respond.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

“No, don’t. I’ll phone when I’m ready to talk.”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Dean,” she called as he turned away. He quickly glanced at her. “Please cancel our plans for tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Tell Nita and Joan I’ll call them later.” She was passing the buck, but she couldn’t handle a conversation with anyone.

He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” Slowly, he walked out of the lake house.

She wanted to call him back, but that wouldn’t solve anything. As the door closed, she knew their lives were changing, and she didn’t feel it was for the better.

They loved each other. There was no doubt in her mind about that. To save her marriage she had to feel that forever kind of love she’d felt at eighteen.

How did she do that when she felt empty, afraid and lost within herself? There was only one thing she knew to do.

She picked up a letter.