Chapter 16
Options
Nadine
Every chair in the waiting room was taken. An older couple huddled together, their fear and anxiety almost palpable. My heart ached with empathy. And trembled with fear. No matter how much time I had with Aaron, it would never be enough.
I had hoped having a morning appointment would mean the doctor would not yet be running behind, but it was not to be.
My eyes stung with fatigue. Aaron had been up, dressed, and ready to go half an hour before his alarm was set to go off. His lips pressed firmly against my brow woke me, his soft words telling me to go back to sleep ineffective in light of the strain on his face.
I laid my palm against his cheek. “I love you. We have a plan in place. We’re going to make changes, okay?”
He nodded, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to mine. He forced a smile. “I’m a big boy, Dini. Don’t worry about me. What have you got going on today?”
“Doctor’s appointment this morning, working at the Garden Center this afternoon.”
His brow furrowed. “What’s the appointment for?”
“Follow-up for my dry husk coochie.”
He grinned, and my chest loosened because this one was genuine. “Didn’t seem all that dry this week.”
I laughed. “No, you took good care of her.”
He wagged his eyebrows, the strain on his face momentarily absent. “I’ll keep up the good work.”
“You do that.”
I didn’t even try to go back to sleep.
“Nadine?”
My head jerked up at the sound of my name and I followed the nurse into a small room where I continued to wait. How many hours of my life had I spent waiting? Waiting for the kids to come out of school. Waiting for the kids while they attended lessons. Waiting for Aaron to come home from work.
A brusque knock sounded and then the door swung open.
Dr. Miller’s face brightened. Ensuring the door closed tight, she turned to me. “Nadine, how are you?”
As I answered, she took her seat, typed my name into her database, and scanned our last appointment. “Ah, yes. Perimenopause. How’s it treating you?”
Complaints were made, empathy and recommendations given, and still unasked questions hung in the air.
“What else?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I guess I feel a bit lost.”
She leaned back in her chair, her eyes steady on mine.
“I’m just not sure who I am anymore. I had my kids young, got married young, and I have no regrets.” I paused, and the moment stretched.
She filled in the gap. “You just never had time for you.”
“I guess? I miss having the kids at home, but I’m happy they’re out living their lives. It’s Aaron, really.”
“Are you having difficulty reconnecting with him?”
I stared out the window and gathered my thoughts.
“It’s more than that. We’ve been talking a lot about entering this next phase of our lives with intention.
It’s exciting, but it’s been so long since I’ve had any kind of intention other than looking after everybody that I don’t know where to begin. ”
“You know, so many women reinvent themselves at your age. The hormone shifts are not exactly a rollicking good time, and of course you feel a bit lost because when your kids moved out, you basically lost your job.”
I snorted out a laugh. “I’ve been downsized.”
She chuckled and added gently, “There is good news. By this age, we know what’s important and what isn’t.
While we may not know what we want to do next, we know our strengths and weaknesses a whole lot better than we did in our 20s and 30s.
We know where and how we excel. Most importantly, we’ve failed often enough we’re no longer afraid to try because we know from personal experience we can get back up. ”
Back in reception, I pondered her words while I waited to make a follow-up appointment. The older couple were gone, tucked away in the bowels of the clinic possibly awaiting a verdict neither of them would ever be ready for. My heart clenched tight.
I wanted what I’d always wanted, and that was a life rich and full and bursting with everything Aaron and me. That much was clear. But now a ribbon of anticipation uncoiled in my gut, teasing me with what else could be.
Perhaps, I was done waiting on everybody else.
Maybe, it was my turn.
When Aaron came home that night, he was quiet and withdrawn. His smile was strained and tired. After two solid weeks of having him back, the contrast was marked. He spent more time pushing his food around his plate than eating. It was a relief when the time came when we could reasonably go to bed.
“Hey, baby.” I crawled into our bed beside him. Resting my head on his pectoral, I drew gentle circles around his belly button and traced the line of his boxers.
“Hey.” He exhaled slowly, as if he’d been holding his breath all day and could finally let it out. Cupping the back of my head in his palm, he tipped his chin down and pressed his mouth to the top of my head.
“I won’t ask you how your day was,” I murmured.
He grunted. “Good.”
“If social work was not an option, what would you have done?”
He sighed. “I probably would have stayed at the resort.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Sage Ridge? Harley’s resort?” Aaron had worked at the resort in all manner of capacities throughout high school and university. He’d never, not once, expressed a desire to stay there.
It was a wonder it had never occurred to me. He loved the outdoors, hiking especially but definitely not exclusively. Our backyard shed was stuffed full of skis, snowshoes, with his kayak and snowmobile taking up most of the space.
“Yeah.”
“Doing what?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. I would have liked to have been Harley’s right hand, honestly.”
“You’re interested in the running of the place?”
He shrugged and lightly scratched my scalp. “Not so much operations on the business side, I’m more interested in coordinating the outdoor adventure side. Hiking, bike trails, skiing, kayaking, snowmobile tours and rentals…the fun stuff.”
“I could see that for you. Do you think that might be a possible next step?”
Sudden irritation colored his tone. “I have no idea if Harley needs anyone in that capacity.”
“You could ask?” I offered doggedly.
He turned toward me and flipped me onto my side facing away from him. With his arm tight around my waist, he pulled me tight into the curve of his body. “Sleep, baby. We’ll figure it out.”
He drifted off almost immediately, his soft, steady snores that would have normally lulled me to sleep setting the backdrop to my musings.
His way forward seemed clear, almost too clear. Mine, not so much.
I could not shake the feeling that we had only a small window of opportunity, a sliver of time, a minute crack in the universe, to make the kind of changes he wanted. The kind of changes we both wanted.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would come up with some options.