Charlotte and several ladies from the Senior Center had been out, too. Charlotte had taught Maryellen how to knit and she’d caught on quickly. Under Charlotte’s tutelage, she’d started a baby blanket. However, none of these distractions was enough to keep Maryellen’s mind off the financial difficulties caused by her unemployment. Jon couldn’t work and take care of both Katie and her. Now, at least, he was able to spend the days taking photographs and had sold a few to the Chronicle and other area papers, as well as providing prints to the galleries that carried his work. He’d even applied for a few jobs, which had come to nothing.
Joseph and Ellen’s presence had made a difference that was as profound as that between night and day. Jon couldn’t deny that their generosity had changed everything; still, he avoided all contact with his parents. He left in the morning and called every night before he got home. His call was the signal that his parents should leave.
Maryellen was distressed that he could be so coldhearted toward his family. Distressed and scared, too. If he could so completely turn off his love for them, then he might be capable of doing the same to her and to their daughter.
She knew very well that the only reason Jon had allowed his family into his life was for her sake and Katie’s.
He refused to acknowledge their help or show them any appreciation. Joseph and Ellen had remained respectful of his wishes. The minute he notified Maryellen that he was on his way home, they packed up and left. The fact that dinner was waiting for him on his return was never mentioned or credited to his parents. As much as possible, he ignored their very existence. Maryellen felt dreadful for his father and stepmother.
When she heard Jon tiptoe down the stairs in the early dawn, Maryellen smiled. Their time alone on Easter Sunday had been special and she refused to ruin today with any unpleasantness.
“You awake?” he whispered.
She nodded and held out her arms to him. Jon joined her on the sofa, lying beside her. He placed his hands on her growing abdomen. They giggled and cuddled close.
“After this baby’s born, I’m never sleeping without you again,” he said, spreading warm kisses on her throat until he reached her lips for a series of deep, probing kisses. Groaning, he tore his mouth from hers and buried it in the hollow of her neck. After a moment, he whispered, “I miss you sleeping with me.”
“I miss you, too.” His body was so familiar to her and so beloved. She reveled in the feel of him pressed against her. Had their circumstances been different, they would’ve made love. It wouldn’t be long before all of this was over, Maryellen reminded herself. She had to repeat that thought frequently throughout the day—and night.
“Katie’s still asleep,” Jon told her.
“She had a busy day yesterday. Oh, Jon, I can’t tell you how good Ellen is with her.”
Her husband went rigid, just as he always did whenever she mentioned his parents.
Maryellen rubbed his back. “Did you see the giant Easter basket they bought her? It’s got a plush bunny and—”
“I don’t want them spoiling her rotten.”
“Sweetheart, that’s what grandparents do.” She paused. “They love her so much,” she murmured.
Without a word, Jon slipped off the sofa and went into the adjacent kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She watched him grind beans, then add water.
“I knew this would happen,” he said to her from the doorway a moment later, his voice ringing with resentment.
“What?” she asked, sitting upright now. “You’re afraid I’ll refer to your parents in casual conversation? That’s what you fear? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”
“The minute they got here, you were championing their cause. It’s not going to work, Maryellen. I told you that before and I’m telling you again now. Nothing’s changed between them and me. Not one damn thing.”
She flinched at the harshness of his words. “But Jon—”
“I will not talk about it anymore. I let them come because you wanted it, and for no other reason.”
“They’ve been a tremendous help. How can you deny what your parents have done for us? Jon, they left their home. They’re staying at one of those hotels off the highway, and all because they want to be near us during this time. The least we can do is show some appreciation.”
“They didn’t help me,” he said with unrestrained anger. “Instead, they lied. They should count their blessings that I didn’t get them charged with perjury. Then they would’ve gone to prison like I did.”
Maryellen forced herself to remain calm. “Yes, they did lie, and because of it you went through hell. They paid the price for that, Jon, and they paid dearly.”
“No, Maryellen,” her husband said, “I’m the one who paid. I was the one behind bars. Do you know how I got through those years? Do you really want to know? By hating them. I swore I’d never have anything to do with either of them again.”
It pained her to hear the bitterness in his voice. Jon was a passionate man, who felt everything deeply. Anyone who studied his photography could see that, could sense his emotion.
A picture as simple as an empty rowboat tied up at a dock was sharply evocative. One reviewer had said that the abandoned rowboat was an object that had its own integrity and yet also symbolized lost dreams. Maryellen loved that review, and she’d clipped it and kept it in a special file. She agreed with every word. Years ago, she’d fallen in love with his art, long before she even knew the man.