Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Twenty-Seven Years Ago
The rhythmic pounding of her feet on the treadmill was soothing in a strange kind of way. Helen enjoyed running. It was one of the few pleasures she allowed herself these days. Between work, taking care of her parents (although they very much dismissed the fact that she needed to do anything of the sort) and church, she was busy enough that she could easily skip the occasional leg day or stint on the treadmill. But it was her gym sessions that kept her going, gave her the energy to face the busyness of her life.
She'd spent the day working as a nurse in the maternity wing of Piedmont Hospital. And even though she was tired, it invigorated her to finish her day at the gym.
Besides, going home to an empty house wasn’t particularly appealing.
Helen glanced up at the television screen hanging above the line of treadmills and elliptical machines. The noise of running feet, the ding of notifications, and the buzz of conversation drowned out the quiet television set. She couldn’t hear what they were saying. She could guess though. Pictures flashed across the screen—another bombing in Kenya. What was going on over there? It was supposed to be a peacekeeping mission. That’s what they’d been told. But the fighting was still going on over a year later, and they seemed no closer to peace.
She didn't want to know if it was near where her husband was stationed. She'd spent too many sleepless nights worrying about him now that he was back in Africa.
They'd had such a wonderful time together over the four weeks of his leave. They’d eaten out at all his favourite restaurants, spent time with friends and family, and driven to North Georgia, the Smoky Mountains, to stay in a log cabin with a deliciously relaxing hot tub on the porch. Every waking moment had been with him. She'd taken leave from work to cherish their time together. But it had all come to an end far too soon, and now he was gone, back to his work and out of her life.
It was for the best, that's what she kept telling herself. After he finished his term with the army, he’d be able to go to school. It would set them up for life. Them and the family they planned to have. It was what they both dreamed of. Neither she nor Paul needed anything fancy. Just a home in the suburbs they could call their own, and children to fill the rooms with laughter and love.
Tuition paid for by the army was the first step in their plan. It would allow Paul to become an engineer, something he’d dreamed of since he was a little boy. He’d be the first in his family to attend college, if he made it. Which he would, she was certain of that. When Paul put his mind to something, he made it happen. The scholarship would help them get the start in life they needed. But she was beginning to wonder if the cost was worth it. Four years apart, four years as newlyweds spent in different parts of the world.
After a year, it was already beginning to eat at her. And they still had three years left to go. Every time she caught a glimpse of the news bulletin out of the corner of her eye, her heart skipped a beat and the ball of anxiety in her stomach grew.
She purposely looked away, squeezed her eyes shut and focused on counting her footsteps, breathing deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth.
What if he died? What would she do then? She couldn't think about it.
Had to keep moving forward. They were trying for a baby. They'd talked about it when he visited and decided it was time.
If she had a baby, maybe she'd be able to focus on something else other than the loneliness in her chest. But how could she raise a child without a father? She'd told him they should wait until he came home for good, but he said there was no harm in trying now. He was impatient, wanted to get started on filling those bedrooms.
“But we don’t have a house yet. Only a rental,” she’d objected.
He’d laughed at that. “It’s a matter of time. You grow the baby, and I’ll grow our nest egg.”
Helen lifted some weights, pushing herself for one more rep, heavier weights, to keep going, to feel the pain. Anything other than focusing on the ache in her heart. She’d never realised how much being apart could feel like grief until now.
The pain of missing her husband was all-consuming. Knowing he could die thousands of miles from home and she would never see him again ate away at her. She tried not to let it, and most of the time, she managed to keep her chin up and a smile on her face. Most people she knew wouldn’t realise the strain it placed on her, having him so far away and in constant danger. But sometimes the fear crept in.
After stretching, she marched to the locker room. She undressed and wrapped herself in a towel to head for the showers. Halfway there she reconsidered, returned to her locker and fetched a pregnancy test. She unwrapped it as she walked back to the toilet stalls. Paul had been back on duty for a month. She might be pregnant, and if she was, it could show up on the test. It would be early, but it was possible. Some good news might lift her spirits.
She waited the two minutes it took for the little pink lines to appear, but there was only one. She wasn't pregnant. Her heart fell.
When they’d first started talking about having a baby, she'd been scared. They weren't ready. A baby would change everything. They were newlyweds. They should wait. Spend some time together as a couple. Go on a few trips. Enjoy their freedom. But now, a year later, he was ready even if she wasn’t quite sure about the timing.
Her main concern was doing it alone. Paul had argued that if she fell pregnant now even with him out of the country, she’d have plenty of support with both sets of parents nearby. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t around. The baby was too little to notice. And besides, how could they have four kids if they didn’t start soon? She wasn't sure she was capable of it. Any of it. Especially the four kids.
But it didn't matter because she wasn't pregnant.
After she'd showered, she drove to her parents’ lake house. Her sister, Rita, and Rita’s husband, Jimmy, lived there with them. The younger couple at one end of the house with their two small children, the parents at the other.
Rita and Jimmy were saving for their own home. At least that's what they told everyone. Although they didn't seem to be in any hurry. They’d lived there for years, had two children, and made no mention of moving out.
Helen couldn't blame them. Her parents were loving and kind. And the lake house was spacious, beautiful, and had a special place in her heart since it was where Rita and Helen grew up. Her father had inherited the property from his parents. And he’d told Rita he intended to leave it to her as the eldest child. Helen wanted to be magnanimous about it but couldn’t help feeling a little jealous since she’d had no control over when she was born.
She pulled into the driveway and parked her car. A small scruffy dog bounded out to greet her and instantly rolled onto his back. She bent to scratch his belly.
“Hello, Ronald,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Have you been a good boy?”
The dog wagged his tail, pink tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. Floppy black and white fur fell across his eyes, and she pushed it clear with one hand. “How on earth can you see where you’re going? I need to get you a hairband.”
Ronald always made her feel better and brought a smile to her face. Dogs had a way of doing that. The lake had a similar effect. She straightened, pressed her hands to the small of her back and looked out across the water. It was dark now, mid-summer. The scent of freshly cut grass, the sound of water lapping at the docks, the glow of the full moon on the water’s surface—all of it was so familiar. She’d spent many hours seated on the edge of the dock with her feet dangling into the water, a fishing pole in one hand. It was her sanctuary. Her quiet place.
Inside the lake house she found Rita playing the piano. Mum stood beside the piano, arms aloft and mouth wide, mid-song. Her strong alto voice soared, and Helen itched to join in, but she hadn’t inherited her mother’s musical ability the way Rita had.
Mom’s face was scrunched in the ecstasy of the moment. There was nothing she liked more than the drama and emotion of a good song. She always said it drew her in until she lived on each note. She’d taught them both to play the piano, but only Rita had carried it on.
Helen wasn't much interested in music. She enjoyed it, but it wasn’t a passion for her the way it was for her mother and sister. Her focus was animals. She adored them.
If she could, she’d adopt every one she could find and keep them as pets. She wished she had space to keep a whole menagerie of them. But for now, she and Paul rented a small cottage on the base. And there was nowhere to keep a pet. It would be cruel.
One day, she'd fill the house with them, and with babies too, if she was lucky and Paul got his way. With him gone, she wanted to shout that she’d give him anything he liked in all the world, if only he’d come home. But there was nothing to be done about that.
“Hi Mom,” she said, leaning in to kiss her mother's cheek.
Mom stopped singing mid-word. “Where have you been and why is your hair all wet?”
“Hello, Rita.” She bent to kiss her sister's cheek. “You smell nice. Like chocolate fudge. I took a shower after working out.”
Rita laughed. “Good nose! I've been trying out new recipes all day.”
“Where's Dad?” Helen asked.
“He's fixing the boat.” Mum rolled her eyes. “As usual.”
“Let's hope he doesn't drop any more tools in the water,” Helen replied.
Rita laughed.
“Has he been to see the cardiologist lately?”
Mum's smile faded. “You know Dad. He thinks he'll be fine. I’m making a fuss about nothing.”
Helen shook her head. “Mum, you've got to make him go. It's important.”
Mum reached up to cup Helen's cheek the way she had when Helen was a child. “I know, honey, I'm trying. Meanwhile, what would you like to eat for dinner? You’re staying for dinner, aren't you? I was thinking … chicken and dumplings.”
Helen smiled. “I love chicken and dumplings.”
Rita closed the piano, and they both followed their mother into the kitchen. Rita helped her with the dinner while Helen set the table, then sat down to do a crossword puzzle in the back of the newspaper. They chattered away while they worked. After a while, the back door swung open, and she heard her dad stamping his boots outside. He kicked them off and padded into the kitchen in his socks.
“Hey, Dad, how’s the boat?”
He removed his hat and set it on a peg. “The darned thing just won't start.”
“Never mind, Dad, you'll get it working tomorrow,” said Helen.
He grunted. “Hello, hon, what are you doing here? Come on over here and hug my neck.”
She stood to give him a hug. “Thought I'd come for some chicken and dumplings.”
“Ah, your mother is stealing the cafe’s recipe again, is she?”
“You know full well I use grandma's recipe just like you do,” Mum declared with flashing eyes.
Helen laughed at their constant sparring. “How's the old place going?”
She sat next to her sister, wrapped one arm around Rita’s shoulders as she answered her. “The cafe is doing fine. Right, Dad?”
“Right, Pumpkin,” he said.
“We hired a new manager. I'm hoping that will help cut back on my hours a little bit so I can spend more time with the kids. Are you coming in tomorrow, Dad?”
He shrugged. “Not sure you need me there. Thought I might go fishing, if I can get this dang boat started. I'm not feeling the best at the moment. You think you can manage without me?”
She nodded. “Of course, you should take care of yourself.”
“Go see that doctor Mum's been nagging you to see, then.” Helen said, before popping a chip into her mouth and crunching it loudly.
He rolled his eyes. “Don't you start. I’m surrounded by hens, just peck, peck, pecking.”
“We just want you to look after yourself, Dad,” Rita said.
Helen chimed in. “You know she's right. Can I make the booking for you tomorrow?”
He threw his hands in the air. “What chance do I have? I’m surrounded. Fine, Helen, you can make the appointment, and I'll go and see the doctor if it gets the three of you to leave me alone.”
He stomped out of the room. The women all looked at each other and broke into laughter.
“He's getting grouchier in his old age,” Rita said.
Mum spooned dumplings into the soup. “Leave your father alone, girls. He’s outnumbered and doesn’t like being forced into anything. Let’s change the subject. Helen, how’s Paul? Have you heard from him lately?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She hated for people to see her cry. She didn't want them to pity her. It made her feel weak. “He's fine. I spoke to him last night. I don't think he's thrilled to be back in Kenya. Of course he’d never say that, but I can read between the lines. I told him he has to stay safe for me, for all of us. That's his priority, to come home.”
Mum patted her on the back sympathetically. “That's right, honey. And he'll be home before you know it. These few years will fly by. You’ll see.”
Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Helen busied herself with her crossword puzzle, pretending to struggle with one of the answers.
Rita sat at the table across from her with a sigh. “Any luck with the you-know-what?” She exchanged a look with Helen whose eyes were still blurred with tears.
Helen quickly shook her head. “Not pregnant,” she mouthed, so their mother wouldn’t hear.
Rita’s face clouded with sympathy. She shook her head, reached out a hand to squeeze Helen’s. Mouthed back, “I’m sorry.”
Rita and her lovely and supportive husband, Jimmy, had what seemed to be an idyllic life. And sometimes Helen couldn't help being jealous of her big sister. But more than that, she was happy for her.
“What are you two whispering about?” Mum asked.
Helen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I took a pregnancy test at the gym. It was negative.”
Mum placed a bowl in front of her and squeezed her shoulder. “Next time, honey, next time. These things can take a little while. Some people get pregnant first try and others take years, but you'll get there.”
“What if there's something wrong with me?” Helen asked. “What if I can't get pregnant?”
Mum carried two more bowls to the table. “I’m sure you can and you will. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, there are other options, you know.”
Rita spoke up. “You could adopt or do IVF.”
“I don't know,” Helen replied. “I’ve thought about adopting, of course I have, but it sounds like such a long and expensive process.”
“Well, it's something to think about anyway,” Rita said.
“Yeah, I'll do that, but not until Paul's back. I was honestly a little bit relieved. He wants so badly for us to have a family right now, but I'd rather wait until he's home for good.”
Dad joined them for dinner, and they all said grace together. They chatted about the cafe, the weather, the boat, and what they each planned to do for the coming weekend. But all Helen could think about was that pregnancy test and her husband so far away, unable to talk to him whenever she wanted, unable to ask for his advice, unable to feel his arms around her when she needed him the most. Would they ever have the family they dreamed of? Would they ever have the happiness they'd longed for? Since he'd shipped out soon after the wedding, they'd never really had the chance to be newlyweds. What would it be like to live in the same city day after day as a married couple, as a family? She only wished they could start now.