The Wedding

Tears brimmed in Jane’s eyes as we drove to the hospital. Though I’m usually a cautious driver, I changed lanes frequently and bore down on the accelerator when the lights turned yellow, feeling the weight of every passing minute.

When we arrived, the scene in the emergency room was reminiscent of this spring, after Noah had his stroke, as if nothing had changed in the previous four months. The air smelled of ammonia and antiseptic, the fluorescent lights cast a flat glare over the crowded waiting room.

Metal-and-vinyl chairs lined the walls and marched in rows through the middle of the room. Most of the seats were occupied by groups of twos or threes, speaking in hushed tones, and a line of people waiting to fill out forms snaked past the intake counter.

Jane’s family was clustered near the door. Kate stood pale and nervous beside Grayson, her husband, who looked every bit the cotton farmer he was in his overalls and dusty boots. His angular face was weathered with creases. David, Jane’s youngest brother, stood beside them with his arm around his wife, Lynn.

At the sight of us, Kate ran forward, tears already beginning to spill down her cheeks. She and Jane immediately fell into each other’s arms.

“What happened?” Jane asked, her face taut with fear. “How is he?”

Kate’s voice cracked. “He fell near the pond. No one saw it happen, but he was barely conscious when the nurse found him. She said he hit his head. The ambulance brought him in about twenty minutes ago, and Dr. Barnwell is with him now,” Kate said. “That’s all we know.”

Jane seemed to sag in her sister’s arms. Neither David nor Grayson could look at them; both of their mouths were set into straight lines. Lynn stood with her arms crossed, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“When can we see him?”

Kate shook her head. “I don’t know. The nurses out here keep telling us to wait for Dr. Barnwell or one of the other nurses. I guess they’ll let us know.”

“But he’s going to be okay, right?”

When Kate didn’t answer immediately, Jane inhaled sharply.

“He’s going to be okay,” Jane said.

“Oh, Jane…” Kate squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know. Nobody knows anything.”

For a moment, they simply clung to each other.

“Where’s Jeff?” Jane asked, referring to their missing sibling. “He’s coming, right?”

“I finally got hold of him,” David informed her. “He’s stopping by the house to pick up Debbie, then he’s coming straight here.”

David joined his sisters, the three of them huddling together as if trying to pool the strength they knew they might need.

A moment later, Jeff and Debbie arrived. Jeff joined his siblings and was quickly updated on the situation, his drawn face expressing the same dread reflected on their faces.

As the minutes dragged by, we separated into two groups: the progeny of Noah and Allie and their spouses. Though I love Noah and Jane was my wife, I’ve come to learn that there are times when Jane needed her siblings more than me. Jane would need me later, but now was not the time.

Lynn, Grayson, Debbie, and I had been through this before—in the spring when Noah had his stroke, and when Allie died, and when Noah had a heart attack six years ago. While their group had its rituals, including hugs and prayer circles and anxious questions repeated over and over, ours was more stoic. Grayson, like me, has always been quiet. When nervous, he pushes his hands into his pocket and jingles his keys. Lynn and Debbie—while they accepted that David and Jeff needed their sisters at times like these—seemed lost when crises arose, unsure what to do other than stay out of the way and keep their voices down. I, on the other hand, always found myself searching for practical ways to help—an effective means of keeping my emotions in check.

Noticing that the line at the intake desk had cleared, I headed over. A moment later, the nurse looked up from behind a tall stack of forms. Her expression was frazzled.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was wondering if you had any more information about Noah Calhoun. He was brought in about half an hour ago.”

“Has the doctor come out to see you yet?”

“No. But the whole family is here now, and they’re pretty upset.”

I nodded toward them and saw the nurse’s gaze follow mine.

“I’m sure the doctor or one of the nurses will be out shortly.”

“I know. But is there any way you could find out when we might be able to see our father? Or whether he’s going to be okay?”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure she would help me, but when her gaze turned toward the family again, I heard her exhale.

“Just give me a few minutes to process some of these forms. Then I’ll see what I can find out, okay?”

Grayson joined me at the desk, hands in his pockets. “You holdin’ up okay?”

“Trying,” I said.

He nodded again, keys jingling.

“I’m going to sit,” he said after a few seconds. “Who knows how long we’re going to be here.”

We both took a seat in the chairs behind the siblings. A few minutes later, Anna and Keith arrived. Anna joined the huddle, while Keith sat next to me. Dressed in black, Anna already looked as though she’d come from a funeral.

Waiting is always the worst part of a crisis like this, and I’ve come to despise hospitals for this very reason. Nothing is happening, yet the mind whirls with ever darkening images, subconsciously preparing for the worst. In the tense silence, I could hear my own heart beating, and my throat was strangely dry.

I noticed that the intake nurse was no longer at her desk, and I hoped she’d gone to check on Noah. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jane approaching. Standing from my seat, I raised my arm, letting her lean into me.

“I hate this,” she said.

“I know you do. I hate it, too.”

Behind us, a young couple with three crying children entered the emergency room. We moved over to make room for them to pass, and when they reached the desk, I saw the nurse emerge from the back. She held up a finger signaling the couple to wait and headed toward us.

“He’s conscious now,” she announced, “but he’s still a little woozy. His vital signs are good. We’ll probably be moving him to a room in an hour or so.”

“So he’s going to be okay?”

“They’re not planning to move him to intensive care, if that’s what you’re asking,” she hedged. “He’ll probably have to stay in the hospital for a few days of observation.”

There was a collective murmur of relief at her words.

“Can we see him now?” Jane pressed.

“We can’t have all of you back there at once. There’s not enough room for everyone, and the doctor thinks it would be best if you let him rest a bit. The doctor said that one of you could go back there now, as long as you don’t visit too long.”

It seemed obvious that either Kate or Jane would go, but before any of us could speak, the nurse continued.

“Which one of you is Wilson Lewis?” she asked.

“I am,” I said.

“Why don’t you come with me? They’re getting ready to hook up an IV, and you should probably see him before he starts getting sleepy.”

I felt my family’s eyes drift to me. I thought I knew why he wanted to see me, but I held up my hands to ward off the possibility.

“I know I’m the one who talked to you, but maybe Jane or Kate should go,” I suggested. “They’re his daughters. Or maybe David or Jeff.”

The nurse shook her head.

“He asked to see you. He made it very clear that you should be the one to see him first.”

Though Jane smiled briefly, I saw in her smile what I felt from the others. Curiosity, of course. And surprise as well. But from Jane, what I suppose I sensed most of all was a sort of subtle betrayal, as if she knew exactly why he’d chosen me.

Noah was lying in bed with two tubes in his arms and hooked up to a machine that broadcast the steady rhythm of his heart. His eyes were half-closed, but he rotated his head on the pillow when the nurse pulled the curtain closed behind us. I heard the nurse’s steps fade away, leaving us alone.

He looked too small for the bed, and his face was paper white. I took a seat in the chair beside him.

“Hello, Noah.”

“Hello, Wilson,” he said shakily. “Thanks for dropping by.”

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better,” he said. He offered a ghost of a smile. “Could be worse, though, too.”

I reached for his hand. “What happened?”

“A root,” he said. “Been by it a thousand times, but it jumped up and grabbed my foot this time.”

“And you hit your head?”

“My head, my body. Everything. Landed like a potato sack, but nothing’s broke, thank goodness. I’m just a little dizzy. The doctor said I should be up and around in a couple of days. I said good, because I’ve got a wedding this weekend I have to go to.”

“Don’t worry about that. You just worry about getting healthy.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve still got some time left in me. ”

“You better.”

“So how are Kate and Jane? Worried sick, I’ll bet.”

“We’re all worried. Me included.”

“Yeah, but you don’t look at me with those sorrowful eyes and practically cry every time I mumble something.”

“I do that when you’re not looking.”

He smiled. “Not like they do. Odds are one of them will be with me around the clock for the next couple of days, tucking in my blankets and adjusting my bed and fluffing my pillows. They’re like mother hens. I know they mean well, but all that hovering is enough to drive me crazy. The last time I was in the hospital, I don’t think I was alone for more than a minute. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without one of them leading the way, and then waiting outside the door for me to finish.”

“You needed help. You couldn’t walk on your own, remember?”

“A man still needs his dignity.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’ll always be the most dignified man I’ve ever known.”

Noah held my gaze, his expression softening. “They’re going to be all over me as soon as they see me, you know. Hovering and fussing, just like always.” His smiled mischievously. “I might have a little fun with ’em.”

“Go easy, Noah. They’re just doing it because they love you.”

“I know. But they don’t have to treat me like a child.”

“They won’t.”

“They will. So when the time comes, why don’t you tell them that you think I might need some rest, okay? If I say I’m getting tired, they’ll just start worrying again.”

I smiled. “Will do.”

For a moment, we sat without speaking. The heart machine beeped steadily, soothing in its monotony.

“Do you know why I asked for you to come back here instead of one of the kids?” he asked.

Despite myself, I nodded. “You want me to go to Creekside, right? To feed the swan like I did last spring?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all. I’d be glad to help.”

He paused, his tired expression imploring me. “You know I couldn’t have asked you if the others were in the room. They get upset at the very mention of it. They think it means I’m losing my mind.”

“I know.”

“But you know better, don’t you, Wilson?”

“Yes.”

“Because you believe it, too. She was there when I woke up, you know. She was standing over me, making sure that I was okay, and the nurse had to shoo her away. She stayed with me the whole time.”

I knew what he wanted me to say, but I couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted to hear. Instead I smiled. “Wonder Bread,” I said. “Four pieces in the morning and three pieces in the afternoon, right?”

Noah squeezed my hand, forcing me to look at him again.

“You do believe me, don’t you, Wilson?”

I was silent. Since Noah understood me better than anyone, I knew I couldn’t hide the truth. “I don’t know,” I said at last.

At my answer, I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

An hour later, Noah was moved to a room on the second floor, where the family joined him at last.

Jane and Kate entered the room, mumbling, “Oh, Daddy,” in chorus. Lynn and Debbie followed next, while David and Jeff moved to the far side of the bed. Grayson stood at the foot of the bed, while I remained in the background.

As Noah predicted, they hovered over him. They reached for his hand, adjusted the covers, raised the head of the bed. Scrutinized him, touched him, fawned over him, hugged and kissed him. All of them, fussing and peppering him with questions.

Jeff spoke up first. “Are you sure you’re okay? The doctor said you took a nasty fall.”

“I’m fine. I’ve got a bump on my head, but other than that, I’m just a little tired.”

“I was scared to death,” Jane declared. “But I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” David joined in.

“You shouldn’t have been out there alone if you were feeling dizzy,” Kate scolded. “Next time, just wait there until someone comes to get you. They’ll come and find you.”

“They did anyway,” Noah said.

Jane reached behind his head and fluffed his pillows. “You weren’t out there that long, were you? I can’t bear to think that no one found you right away.”

Noah shook his head. “No more than a couple of hours, I’d guess.”

“A couple of hours!” Jane and Kate exclaimed. They froze, exchanging horrified looks.

“Maybe a little longer. Hard to tell because the clouds were blocking the sun.”

“Longer?” Jane asked. Her hands were clenched into fists.

“And I was wet, too. I guess it must have rained on me. Or maybe the sprinklers came on.”

“You could have died out there!” Kate cried.

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad. A little water never hurt anyone. The worst part was the raccoon when I finally came to. With the way he kept staring at me, I thought he might be rabid. Then he came at me.”

“You were attacked by a raccoon?” Jane looked as though she might faint.

“Not really attacked. I fought him off before he could bite me.”

“It tried to bite you!” Kate cried.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. I’ve fought off raccoons before.”

Kate and Jane stared at each other with shell-shocked expressions, then turned toward their siblings. Appalled silence reigned before Noah finally smiled. He pointed his finger at them and winked. “Gotcha.”

I brought a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle a chuckle. Off to the side, I could see Anna doing her best to keep a straight face.

“Don’t tease us like that!” Kate snapped, tapping the side of the bed.

“Yeah, Daddy, that’s not nice,” Jane added.

Noah’s eyes creased with amusement. “Had to. You set yourselves up for it. But just to let you know, they found me within a couple of minutes. And I’m fine. I offered to drive to the hospital, but they made me take the ambulance.”

“You can’t drive. You don’t even have a valid license anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten how. And the car’s still in the lot.”

Though they said nothing, I could see Jane and Kate mentally planning to remove his keys.

Jeff cleared his throat. “I was thinking that maybe we should get you one of those wrist alarms. So if it happens again, you can get help right away.”

“Don’t need one. I just tripped over a root. Wouldn’t have had time to press the button on the way down. And when I came to, the nurse was already there.”

“I’ll have a talk with the director,” David said. “And if he doesn’t take care of that root, I will. I’ll chop it out myself.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Grayson chimed in.

“It not his fault I’m getting clumsy in my old age. I’ll be up and around in a day or so, and good as new by the weekend.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Anna said. “Just get better, okay?”

“And take it easy,” Kate urged. “We’re worried about you.”

“Scared to death,” Jane repeated.

Cluck, cluck, cluck. I smiled inwardly. Noah was right—they were all mother hens.

“I’ll be fine,” Noah insisted. “And don’t you go canceling that wedding on my account. I’m looking forward to going, and I don’t want you to think a bump on my head is enough to keep me from being there.”

“That’s not important right now,” Jeff said.

“He’s right, Grampa,” Anna said.

“And don’t postpone it, either,” Noah added.

“Don’t talk like that, Daddy,” Kate said. “You’re going to stay here as long as it takes for you to get better.”

“I’ll be fine. I just want you to promise that it’s still on. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Jane pleaded.

“How many times do I have to tell you? This is important to me. It’s not every day that a wedding happens around here.” Recognizing that he was getting nowhere with his daughters, he sought out Anna. “You understand what I mean, don’t you, Anna?”

Anna hesitated. In the silence, her eyes flicked toward me before returning to Noah. “Of course I do, Grampa.”

“Then you’ll go ahead with it, won’t you?”

Instinctively she reached for Keith’s hand.

“If that’s what you want,” she said simply.

Noah smiled, visibly relieved. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Jane adjusted his blanket. “Well then, you’re going to have to take care of yourself this week,” she said. “And be more careful in the future.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” David promised, “I’ll have that root gone by the time you get back.”

The discussion returned to how Noah had fallen, and I suddenly realized what had been left out of the conversation thus far. Not one of them, I noticed, was willing to mention the reason he’d been at the pond in the first place.

But then again, none of them ever wanted to talk about the swan.

Noah told me about the swan a little less than five years ago. Allie had been gone for a month, and Noah had seemed to be aging at an accelerated rate. He seldom left his room, even to read poetry to others. Instead, he sat at his desk, reading the letters that he and Allie had written to each other over the years or thumbing through his copy of Leaves of Grass.

We did our best to get him out of his room, of course, and I suppose it’s ironic that I was the one who brought him to the bench by the pond. That morning was the first time we saw the swan.

I can’t say I knew what Noah was thinking, and he certainly gave no indication at the time that he read anything significant into it at all. I do remember that the swan floated toward us, as if looking for something to eat.

“Should have brought some bread,” Noah remarked.

“Next time we will,” I agreed in a perfunctory way.

When I visited two days later, I was surprised not to find Noah in his room. The nurse told me where he was. At the pond, I found him seated on the bench. Beside him was a single piece of Wonder Bread. When I approached, the swan seemed to watch me, but even then it showed no fear.

“It looks like you’ve made yourself a friend,” I commented.

“Looks that way,” he said.

“Wonder Bread?” I asked.

“She seems to like it the best.”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

Noah smiled. “I just know,” he said, and that was how it began.

Since then he has fed the swan regularly, visiting the pond in all kinds of weather. He has sat in the rain and the sweltering heat, and as the years passed, he began spending more and more time on the bench, watching and whispering to the swan. Now, full days can pass when he never leaves the bench at all.

A few months after his first encounter with the swan, I asked him why he spent so much time at the pond. I assumed he found it peaceful or that he enjoyed talking to someone—or something—without expecting a response.

“I come here because she wants me to.”

“The swan?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Allie.”

My insides tightened at the sound of her name, but I didn’t know what he meant. “Allie wants you feed the swan?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

With a sigh, he looked up at me. “It’s her,” he said.

“Who?”

“The swan,” he said.

I shook my head uncertainly. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

“Allie,” he repeated. “She found a way to come back to me, just like she promised she would. All I had to do was find her.”

This is what the doctors mean when they say Noah is delusional.

We stayed at the hospital another thirty minutes. Dr. Barnwell promised to call us with an update after he made his rounds the following morning. He was close to our family, looking after Noah as he would his own father. We trusted him completely. As I’d promised, I suggested to the family that Noah seemed to be getting tired and that it might be best for him to rest. On our way out, we arranged to visit him in shifts, then hugged and kissed in the parking lot. A moment later, Jane and I were alone, watching the others leave.

I could see the weariness in Jane’s unfocused gaze and sagging posture and felt it myself.

“You doing okay?” I asked.

“I think so.” She sighed. “I know he seems to be fine, but he doesn’t seem to understand that he’s almost ninety. He’s not going to be up and around as fast as he thinks he will.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and I guessed that she was worrying about the wedding plans as well.

“You’re not thinking of asking Anna to postpone the wedding, are you? After what Noah said?”

Jane shook her head. “I would have tried, but he was so adamant. I just hope that he’s not insisting on it because he knows…”

She trailed off. I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Because he knows he doesn’t have much longer,” she went on. “And that this is going to be his last big event, you know?”

“He doesn’t believe that. He still has more than a few years left.”

“You sound so sure of that.”

“I am sure. For his age, he’s actually doing well. Especially compared to the others his age at Creekside. They barely leave their rooms, and all they do is watch television.”

“Yeah, and all he does is go to the pond to see that stupid swan. Like that’s any better.”

“It makes him happy,” I pointed out.

“But it’s wrong,” she said fiercely. “Can’t you see that? Mom’s gone. That swan has nothing to do with her.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I stayed quiet.

“I mean, it’s crazy,” she continued. “Feeding it is one thing. But thinking that Mom’s spirit has somehow come back doesn’t make any sense.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve heard him talking to it, you know. When I go to see him. He’s having a regular conversation, as if he honestly believes the swan can understand him. Kate and David have caught him doing it, too. And I know you’ve heard him.”

She leveled an accusing stare.

“Yes,” I admitted, “I’ve heard him, too.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I think,” I said carefully, “that right now, Noah needs to believe that it’s possible.”

“But why?”

“Because he loves her. He misses her.”

At my words, I saw her jaw quiver. “I do, too,” she said.

Even as she said the words, we both knew it wasn’t the same.

Despite our weariness, neither of us could face the prospect of going straight home after the ordeal at the hospital. When Jane declared suddenly that she was “starving,” we decided to stop at the Chelsea for a late dinner.

Even before we entered, I could hear the sounds of John Peterson at the piano inside. Back in town for a few weeks, he played each weekend; on weekdays, however, John sometimes showed up unexpectedly. Tonight was such a night, the tables surrounding the piano crowded, the bar packed with people.

We were seated upstairs, away from the music and the crowd, where only a few other tables were occupied. Jane surprised me by ordering a second glass of wine with her entrée, and it seemed to ease some of the tension of the past several hours.

“What did Daddy say to you when you two were alone?” Jane asked, carefully picking a bone out of her fish.

“Not much,” I answered. “I asked him how he was doing, what happened. For the most part, it wasn’t any different from what you heard later.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For the most part? What else did he say?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She laid her silverware down. “He asked you to feed the swan again, didn’t he.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to?”

“Yes,” I said, but seeing her expression, I went on quickly, “but before you get upset, remember that I’m not doing it because I think it’s Allie. I’m doing it because he asked, and because I don’t want the swan to starve to death. It’s probably forgotten how to forage on its own.”

She looked at me skeptically.

“Mom hated Wonder Bread, you know. She would never have eaten it. She liked to make her own.”

Luckily, the approach of our waiter saved me from further discussion of this topic. When he asked how we were enjoying our entrées, Jane suddenly asked if these dishes were on the catering menu.

At her question, a look of recognition crossed his features.

“Are you the folks throwing the wedding?” he asked. “At the old Calhoun place this weekend?”

“Yes, we are,” Jane said, beaming.

“I thought so. I think half the crew is working that event.” The waiter grinned. “Well, it’s great to meet you. Let me refill your drinks, and I’ll bring the full catering menu when I come back.”

As soon as he’d left, Jane leaned across the table.

“I guess that answers one of my questions. About the service, I mean.”

“I told you not to worry.”

She drained the last of her wine. “So are they going to set up a tent? Since we’re eating outside?”

“Why don’t we use the house?” I volunteered. “I’m going to be out there anyway when the landscapers come, so why don’t I try to get a cleaning crew out there to get it ready? We’ve got a few days—I’m sure I can find someone.”

“We’ll give it a try, I guess,” she said slowly, and I knew she was thinking of the last time she’d been inside. “You know it’ll be pretty dusty, though. I don’t think anyone’s cleaned it in years.”

“True, but it’s only cleaning. I’ll make some calls. Let me see what I can do,” I urged.

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep having to do things,” I countered, and she laughed good-naturedly. Through the window over her shoulder, I could see my office and noticed that the light in Saxon’s window was on. No doubt he was there on urgent business, for Saxon seldom stayed late. Jane caught me staring.

“Missing work already?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “It’s nice to be away from it for a while.”

She eyed me carefully. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.” I tugged at my polo shirt. “It’s nice not to always have to put on a suit during the week.”

“I’ll bet you’ve forgotten what that’s like, haven’t you. You haven’t taken a long vacation in… what? Eight years?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve taken a few days here and there, but the last time you actually took a week off was in 1995. Don’t you remember? When we took all the kids to Florida? It was right after Joseph graduated from high school.”

She was right, I realized, but what I once regarded as a virtue, I now considered a fault.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?”

“For not taking more vacations. That wasn’t fair to you or the family. I should have tried to do more with you and the kids than I did.”

“It’s fine,” she said with a wave of her fork, “no big deal.”

“Yes, it is,” I said. Though she had long since grown used to my dedication at the office and now accepted it as part of my character, I knew it had always been a sore spot with her. Knowing that I had her attention, I went on.

“It’s always been a big deal,” I continued. “But I’m not sorry only about that. I’m sorry about all of it. I’m sorry for letting work interfere with all the other events I missed when the kids were growing up. Like some of their birthday parties. I can’t even remember how many I missed because I had late meetings that I refused to reschedule. And everything else I missed—the volleyball games and track meets, piano concerts, school plays… It’s a wonder that the kids have forgiven me, let alone seem to like me.”

She nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing. Then again, there was nothing she could say. I took a deep breath and plunged on.

“I know I haven’t always been the best husband, either,” I said quietly. “Sometimes I wonder why you’ve put up with me for as long as you have.”

At that, her eyebrows rose.

“I know you spent too many evenings and weekends alone, and I put all the responsibility for child rearing on you. That wasn’t fair to you. And even when you told me that what you wanted more than anything was to spend time with me, I didn’t listen. Like for your thirtieth birthday.” I paused, letting my words sink in. Across the table, I watched Jane’s eyes flash with the memory. It was one of the many mistakes I’d made in the past that I’d tried to forget.

What she’d asked for back then had been quite simple: Overwhelmed with the new burdens of motherhood, she’d wanted to feel like a woman again, at least for an evening, and had dropped various hints in advance about what such a romantic evening might entail—clothes laid out on the bed for her, flowers, a limousine to whisk us to a quiet restaurant, a table with a lovely view, quiet conversation without worrying that she had to rush home. Even back then, I knew it was important to her, and I remember making a note to do everything she wanted. However, I got so embroiled in some messy proceedings relating to a large estate that her birthday arrived before I could make the arrangements. Instead, at the last minute I had my secretary pick out a stylish tennis bracelet, and on the way home, I convinced myself that because it had been expensive, she would regard it as equally special. When she unwrapped it, I promised that I’d make the necessary plans for a wonderful evening together, an evening even better than the one she’d described. In the end, it was another in a long line of promises that I ended up breaking, and in hindsight, I think Jane realized it as soon as I said it.

Feeling the weight of lost opportunity, I didn’t continue. I rubbed my forehead in the silence. I pushed my plate aside, and as the past sped by in a series of disheartening memories, I felt Jane’s eyes on me. Surprising me, however, she reached across the table and touched my hand.

“Wilson? Are you okay?” There was a note of tender concern in her voice that I didn’t quite recognize.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why all the regrets tonight? Was it something that Daddy said?”

“No.”

“Then what made you bring it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe it’s the wedding.” I gave a halfhearted smile. “But I’ve been thinking about those things a lot these days.”

“It doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But it’s still true.”

Jane cocked her head. “I haven’t been perfect, either, you know.”

“You’ve been a lot closer than I’ve been.”

“That’s true,” she said with a shrug.

I laughed despite myself, feeling the tension ease a little.

“And yes, you have worked a lot,” she went on. “Probably too much. But I always knew you were doing it because you wanted to provide for our family. There’s a lot to be said for that, and I was able to stay home and raise the kids because of it. That was always important to me.”

I smiled, thinking about her words and the forgiveness I heard in them. I was a lucky man, I thought, and I leaned across the table.

“You know what else I’ve been thinking about?” I asked.

“Is there more?”

“I was trying to figure out why you married me in the first place.”

Her expression softened. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I wouldn’t have married you unless I wanted to.”

“Why did you marry me?”

“Because I loved you.”

“But why?”

“There were a lot of reasons.”

“Like what?”

“You want specifics?”

“Humor me. I just told you all my secrets.”

She smiled at my insistence.

“All right. Why I married you… Well, you were honest and hardworking and kind. You were polite and patient, and more mature than any guy I’d dated before. And when we were together, you listened in a way that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. You made me feel complete, and spending time with you just seemed right.”

She hesitated for a moment. “But it wasn’t just about my feelings. The more I got to know you, the more I was certain that you’d do whatever it took to provide for your family. That was important to me. You have to understand that back then, a lot of people our age wanted to change the world. Even though it’s a noble idea, I knew I wanted something more traditional. I wanted a family like my parents had, and I wanted to concentrate on my little corner of the world. I wanted someone who wanted to marry a wife and mother, and someone who would respect my choice.”

“And have I?”

“For the most part.”

I laughed. “I notice you didn’t mention my dashing good looks or dazzling personality.”

“You wanted the truth, right?” she teased.

I laughed again, and she squeezed my hand. “I’m just kidding. Back then, I used to love how you looked in the mornings, right after you put on your suit. You were tall and trim, a young go-getter out to make a good life for us. You were very attractive.”

Her words warmed me. For the next hour—while we perused the catering menu over coffee and listened to the music floating up from downstairs—I noticed her eyes occasionally on my face in a way that felt almost unfamiliar. The effect was quietly dizzying. Perhaps she was remembering the reasons she’d married me, just as she’d related them to me. And though I couldn’t be absolutely certain, her expression as she gazed at me made me believe that every now and then, she was still glad that she had.