Chapter Nineteen
Weeks slipped into months—two, almost three—and life began to fall into a new rhythm.
They spent Thanksgiving at her parents' house, helping in the kitchen, eating too much pie, and doing their best to pretend things were normal.
Mark, the kids and Grandpa headed outside to play some touch football while Tessa and her mom sipped tea and made Christmas shopping lists.
In December, Mark and Tessa both worked to make Christmas as normal as possible for the kids--decorating the tree, hanging stockings, watching the kids tear through wrapping paper in a flurry of excitement.
January was here, and winter had settled in. Snowbanks lined the streets, the sky hung low and gray, and the cold bit through coats and scarves whenever they hurried in and out of stores or school pick-ups.
Tessa was six months along in her pregnancy now. The worst of the fatigue had passed, her belly was rounding out, the baby's kicks growing firmer by the week. She still tired more easily than before, but compared to those first months, she felt almost good.
On snowy mornings, Mark showed up and he and Michael shoveled the driveway together. The fear of Tessa slipping and falling on the ice made him vigilant about scattering salt on the steps and sidewalks. If there was any chance the roads were slick, he insisted on driving the kids to school himself.
Mark continued to see Jeremy regularly, digging deeper into how to be the husband and father that he was meant to be, that his family deserved.
At Jeremy's suggestion, he began rising before dawn once a week to join a men's small group for Bible study and prayer before work.
He was surprised at how open these men were about their struggles, and how willing they were to share each other's burdens.
Mark left those early mornings both lighter in spirit and challenged to do better.
And when Tessa took the kids to church, he went too—slipping into a seat at the back, careful not to make her uneasy or push her into pretending they were still a whole family.
And then there were the notes.
The first time Tessa found one was when she opened the microwave to heat up a cup of tea.
A small slip of paper sat on the glass turntable: I'm proud of you.
You're doing an amazing job. At the bottom, in smaller handwriting, was a verse: "A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies." (Proverbs 31:10)
After that, she began to find them in other places—tucked into the freezer between bags of frozen vegetables, slipped between two plates in the cupboard, folded neatly inside the dishwasher.
Each note was simple, almost ordinary: Hope you're having a good day.
You're such a wonderful mom. Praying for you today.
Sometimes there was a verse. Sometimes just a few words of encouragement.
She never mentioned them to him. But she also never threw them away. Instead, she slipped them into a drawer in her nightstand, where they began to form a small, quiet stack.
One cold evening, after the dishes were washed, the kids tucked in, and the house finally quiet, Mark was pulling on his coat to leave when Tessa stepped into the doorway.
"Would you like to sit for a minute? I made some cocoa," she said, her tone careful. "I have something I want to ask you."
Surprise flickered across his face, but he nodded, shrugging out of his coat again. "Of course."
They sat at the kitchen table, the mugs steaming between them, when Mark asked, "What's on your mind?"
"I've been thinking about the future," she began slowly. "And I've decided I'm going to hold off on making any decision about our marriage until after the baby is born."
Mark's head lifted but she held up her hand, “I mean, I just don't want to add that kind of stress right now. But in the meantime, there's something I need from you."
"Anything," he said quickly.
She nodded, then straightened a little. "You know I've wanted to study fashion design for a long time. At first, I thought the baby meant I'd have to put it off again. But... I found some online courses I can start now, and I've already signed up. They begin next week."
Mark blinked, then let out a slow breath. "Tessa—that's wonderful."
Her eyes held both hope and caution. "To do this, I'll need your support, so I can actually focus on my classes."
"Of course--what do you need me to do?"
Tessa cleared her throat. "I made a list." She slid a sheet of paper across the table. "School runs, some errands, taking the kids on some evenings. Things like that."
He studied the list, nodding. "Yeah. I can do these. I'll adjust my schedule to leave earlier in the afternoon and then later I can log in to finish up work from my apartment."
Tessa searched his face. "Are you sure?" she hesitated, "You won't resent it?"
Mark winced at her hesitation—the fear that asking him to take on more responsibility might make him resent her again. And beneath that was the unspoken question: Can I trust you this time?
He reached for her hand, relieved when she didn't pull away. Meeting her eyes, he said quietly, "No, Tessa. I'd be honored to be part of your success—just as you've always been part of mine." He drew in a breath, his voice earnest. "Nothing would make me prouder than to see you reach your dreams."