Her life assumed an unsettling routine. Jon woke by seven, came downstairs and put on coffee, then went back upstairs to dress Katie. After giving Katie her cereal, he brought Maryellen a cup of herbal tea. They tried to spend a few minutes together with Katie before he took her to Kelly’s. It was early spring, so ferns and early flowers were starting to emerge, and the opportunity for interesting nature shots was at its prime. Jon was often away from the house for hours. He needed to work in order to earn the money they desperately needed.
Maryellen knew he didn’t want her to worry about finances—as if that could be avoided. Naturally she was concerned. Without her working, they were forced to live on a single income. Jon’s sales increased every year, but he wasn’t yet at the level where he could support himself, let alone a wife and two children. Maryellen had encouraged him to quit as chef for The Lighthouse restaurant and devote himself to his career. Her plan had worked well until now.
The front door opened and Maryellen set aside the novel she was reading. Her attention had been wandering all morning; the hours dragged on endlessly. Jon walked into the house carrying the backpack in which he kept his camera equipment.
“I’m home.”
She tried to smile.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he slipped off his boots.
“Cranky,” she moaned. “You can’t imagine how awful it is to stay in bed like this.” Every place she looked, there was something that needed to be cleaned or finished, folded or put away. Jon tried, but he couldn’t manage everything on his own.
“How about if I make lunch?” he suggested.
“I’m not hungry.” She appreciated the offer and knew Jon was trying to please her. The fact was, she didn’t have much of an appetite these days. Why would she? The most exercise she got was walking to the downstairs bathroom and Dr. DeGroot had suggested she cut back on those visits as much as possible.
“You barely touched your breakfast,” Jon reminded her. He sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes revealing tenderness and care. “I’ll make your favorite—a toasted cheese sandwich and tomato soup.”
She smiled; for his sake she’d try to take a few bites.
Jon kissed her cheek and moved into the kitchen. “Did anyone phone while I was out?”
“No.” Maryellen crossed her arms. For the first couple of weeks, she’d received daily calls from Lois, needing advice or guidance. Those calls had stopped. Apparently her assistant, or one-time assistant, was comfortable as manager of the gallery now. Her mother usually tried to call during her lunch hour, and Maryellen was thankful for the distraction. But the library was often hectic around noon and her calls had dwindled down to maybe three a week.
“Did you hear from your mom?” Jon asked as if reading her thoughts.
“Not today.” Grace helped Maryellen as much as possible. Her mother, however, had a life of her own. Now that she was engaged to Cliff, Grace spent every spare minute with him. Maryellen wasn’t sure when the wedding was scheduled to take place. Soon, she suspected. It was doubtful she’d be able to attend, which depressed her further.
“My vacation pay is up this week,” she said as Jon came back five minutes later with a tray. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but it was important her husband realize there’d be no more checks. She worried constantly about the fact that they were about to take a financial freefall. Worse, they’d have to pay the medical insurance premiums, which were hefty. Maryellen felt grateful to have some continuing coverage from her job, but the benefits were limited.
“I know,” Jon said as if it meant nothing. “We’ll manage.”
“How?” She gazed at the diamond ring he’d given her for Christmas. How she wished he’d put that money in the bank, instead. They were on the brink of financial ruin, and here she was, sporting a huge diamond ring.
“Where’s your faith, Maryellen?”
“My faith?” she repeated. “In you? In God?”
“In both,” he stated calmly. He rested the tray of soup and sandwiches on her lap and sat next to her. “I know this is hard, sweetheart, but we’ll be fine.”
Maryellen had taken over the bill-paying and she wasn’t sure Jon grasped how tight things really were. How close they’d already come to not meeting their obligations—and now with the insurance premiums to pay…
“Only thirteen more weeks until the baby’s born.”
If he meant that to be encouraging, it had the opposite effect. Thirteen weeks sounded like forever.
“Eat,” he said, pushing the cheese sandwich toward her.
For the baby’s sake, Maryellen took one small bite. Then another. Jon had to coax her every time. She didn’t mean to be such a problem, and sighed, feeling wretched. Caught up in her own miseries, she hadn’t noticed that Jon’s mood wasn’t any better than her own.
“Is everything okay, honey?” she asked anxiously.
His face immediately relaxed as if to reassure her. “Of course.”
“You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”
“I would,” he promised.
But Maryellen had to wonder. And the more she did, the guiltier she felt. “I’ve been horrible all day, haven’t I?”
“Not at all.” He dismissed her question with a shake of his head.
“I have, and don’t tell me otherwise.”
Jon grinned, but Maryellen could tell it was forced.
“Tell me,” she insisted.
He shrugged. “Why? So you’ll be more depressed?”
“Jon,” she cried. “We’re a couple—a team. We shouldn’t hide the way we feel from each other. Communication is the key. You’re the one who told me that, remember?”
She set the tray aside, unable to eat any more.