Childless: A Novel (7 page)

“We’ll see. Meantime, both officially and unofficially, I’m confident you’ll figure it out. Come see me if things escalate to the point we can actually intervene.”

“Gotcha.” Tyler moved to the door. “Well, congratulations on your little girl there, I guess.”

“Her name is Esther.”

“Right.” Tyler smiled. “Esther.”

“It was good to see you, Ty. Don’t be a stranger.”

Julia glanced
toward her husband seated on the sofa across the room. He seemed more at ease than he had been in months. Spending time with Kevin had a calming influence on Troy, as did the escalating rivalry between the two older Tolbert children.

“It’s my turn,” six-year-old Tommy demanded, yanking his little sister’s pajama hem.

“No!” Joy tightened her squeeze around Troy’s torso to weather Tommy’s assault.

Adult conversation paused yet again while Troy tried brokering a peace accord.

“I promised you each fifteen minutes,” he said, checking the watch Tommy had been impatiently eyeing for eight minutes and forty-seven seconds. “Joy still has about seven minutes to go. Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t forget about you.”

Tommy huffed, recrossing his arms to resume his leer at Joy’s beaming face.

Two miniature tongues pierced through pressed lips toward one another.

“Tommy,” Angie said sternly as the boy retrieved his tongue with lightning speed.

“She started it,” he protested.

“You’re the oldest,” she replied before sealing his fate with a momentary glare.

Julia restrained a laugh at the childish dread only disapproving mommies can engender.

Angie looked back toward Julia. “How’s he doing?”

“Good.” Julia tried to believe it.

“Julia…” Angie flashed another motherly glare. “Really. How’s he doing?”

“He misses Washington,” she began. “No. He misses Kevin.”

They both looked back toward their husbands.

“And the kids,” Julia added.

Angie offered a knowing nod. “They miss him too.”

“The business has struggled, of course. But he doesn’t talk to me about it. I get the feeling it makes him feel…I don’t know…inadequate or something.”

Angie’s eyes smiled over her sip of tea.

“What?” Julia asked.

Angie tilted her head toward Kevin while cupping a hand to the edge of her mouth. “Sounds like someone else I know,” she whispered. “When things get the worst he says the least.”

Julia lowered her voice to match her friend’s. “Why do they do that?”

Angie grinned widely before taking another drink. She looked like a woman eager to invite her friend into a secret society otherwise closed to newlywed brides.

“What?” Julia prodded again.

Angie looked back toward the men to confirm neither was listening.

“They
do
feel inadequate.”

The revelation momentarily stunned Julia, then morphed into an elusive puzzle piece suddenly found.

“Why? I mean, both have accomplished so much at such a young age. Why should they feel inadequate?”

“Not should. Do. And I don’t mean just Kevin and Troy. I’m talking about all men.”

Julia thought of the men she’d dated before meeting Troy. Most carried themselves with a swagger that hid any hint of uncertainty. She remembered rebuking herself for craving their admiration and affection.
A successful and intelligent woman shouldn’t need the attention of some egocentric man
. It’s what she had written in her column and shouted at the mirror after countless disheartening dates. But watching her sister’s romantic roller coasters and reading her readers’ posts had convinced Julia that every woman struggled with a nagging insecurity just like her own. It had never occurred to her that the same might be true of men. Some men, perhaps. But Troy? And Kevin?

“Do you mean when things go wrong?” Julia asked.

“I mean almost always,” Angie explained. “While brokering business deals and walking the halls of Congress my husband appears bold and self-assured.”

Julia agreed. Kevin Tolbert came across as even more confident than Troy.

“And he is,” Angie continued, “as long as he knows I respect him. But one look of disappointment or word of criticism from me and he becomes a different man. A smaller man.”

“Smaller?”

“Less than he is when he senses my admiration.”

Julia felt a familiar sense of indignation. “So we’re supposed to stand on the sidelines wearing cheerleader outfits so they can win the big games. Is that it?”

Angie smiled disarmingly. “Something like that. But I hope you wear something a bit racier than a cheerleader outfit now that you’re married.” She added a mischievous wink.

Julia suppressed a reluctant grin while marveling at her friend’s unflappable confidence. Rather than take the bait Angie had redirected the potential quarrel like a seasoned mom distracting a child from a tantrum.

“You know what I mean,” Julia snapped playfully.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned about men during a decade of marriage it’s that they desperately need their woman’s admiration and respect. Why shouldn’t they? I mean, God made two halves of a whole. Doesn’t it make sense that men need us as much as we need them?”

“I guess I don’t like thinking of it as a need,” Julia admitted. “I love Troy. I want him. But
need
him?”

“That’s right,” Angie mocked. “I forgot. No man is an island. But a woman is different. She can go it alone.”

Julia absorbed the rebuke. Probably even deserved it, she thought, after years of columns peddling an ideology that must have seemed shallow or silly to her newfound mentor. Angie would, of course, resent being called a mentor. The two had been high school friends reunited after a season of estrangement. Slowly drifting apart was the cowardly route Julia had chosen while falling in love with a world far removed from the kind of life Kevin and Angie Tolbert had built together. The kind of life, as Troy had hoped, she found it easy to admire.

But it remained difficult to choose.

“Point taken,” Julia said, raising a hand of surrender.

Angie winked at her friend before lifting the mug back to her lips. “So,” she began over the brim, “how’s that discussion group with your pastor going?”

Julia sighed before glancing at a clock on the wall. “A new record,” she said.

“Record for what?”

“For how soon you slipped into evangelist mode.” She paused to calculate backward from her and Troy’s arrival time. “Less than two hours.”

In truth, Julia had hoped to avoid the subject. Yes, she had agreed to join Troy in the Exploring Christianity class. And yes, Pastor Alex had answered most of her toughest questions during the past few months. But Julia hated admitting to her hopeful friend that she hadn’t yet decided to go as far as her husband. He had become an official follower of Jesus a few months earlier. Kevin had flown to Denver for the baptism, beaming with delight at his best friend’s decision. Despite Angie’s prayerful prods, however, Julia remained a straggler: open to the possibility, but hesitant. At times she felt an inexplicable yearning mixed with fear, as if nervously eager about her own likely plunge. But no decision as yet.

“I’m sorry.” Julia regretted causing Angie’s blush of unease. “I shouldn’t have said that. The class is going well. Thanks for asking.”

Angie smiled forgivingly. “You know I’m praying for you.”

Julia nodded, then swallowed discomfiture at the idea of heavenly intervention. The thought of needing anyone, be it her husband, a dear friend, or even her Maker, stirred unwelcome but instinctual feelings. Might they explain her spiritual foot-dragging?

“I guess Pastor Alex is right,” she confessed.

“About what?”

“He said the greatest barrier to becoming a Christian isn’t any question or doubt.”

“No?”

“No,” Julia continued, “it’s our pride.”

Angie’s brow lifted in surprised reaction to the admission. “Julia Simmons, proud?”

They shared a knowing laugh.

“Anyway,” Angie said while gently touching her friend’s arm. “They need us more than we realize.”

Julia nodded to acknowledge Angie’s return to the subject of husbands.

“I guarantee Troy needs you more than you think he does,” Angie added.

“Then why doesn’t he talk to me about what’s going on?”

“Like what?” Angie asked.

“Like yesterday morning. I stopped by his office to say hi. He seemed happy to see me, but he also seemed nervous, like I had caught him in a secret.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Like letting go of a few key staff members. And like failing to attract the kind of capital they need for a big deal he’s trying to put together.”

A look of concern invaded Angie’s face. Julia regretted saying too much.

“I’m sure everything is fine,” she added. “He plans to talk to Kevin about the situation tomorrow.”

“He probably already has,” Angie said. “Like I said before, when things are going the worst Kevin tells me the least.”

Julia hesitated before deciding to say more. “Actually, he hasn’t told Kevin yet. I insisted he do so.”

Another look of apprehension from Angie.

“I think the business is struggling, Angie. Troy has been doing everything he knows to do without bothering Kevin with the details.”

“Sam Gamgee,” Angie mused aloud.

“Sorry?”

“From
The Lord of the Rings
,” Angie added.

Julia recalled Troy’s description of his relationship to Kevin. Sam Gamgee was the loyal companion of Frodo Baggins, bearer of the Ring. Kevin had been called to play a part Troy gladly supported, as Sam Gamgee eased the Ring-bearer’s burden.

“That’s right,” Julia said. “Troy seems reluctant to saddle Kevin with bad news. He’s trying to handle it himself.”

Angie seemed reflective. “Did he say how bad it is?”

“You know how they are. Always putting the best spin on the situation.”

Angie nodded silently.

“I didn’t get a sense of imminent doom or anything like that. Just some tough decisions.”

“Good.” Angie seemed relieved. “I’m sure they’ll sort it out together.”

“I hope so,” Julia said. “I think the whole mess has been wearing Troy down.”

“Into a lesser man?”

Julia smiled at the reminder. “I suppose.”

“Which means?” Angie directed.

“He needs a cheerleader?” Julia asked.

“I think you’re catching on, girl!”

“My turn!” Tommy shouted from across the room. Protesting whimpers followed from three-year-old Joy. Both women watched in amusement as Kevin tried prying his daughter loose from Troy’s lap.

“I’d better intervene,” Angie said, moving toward the commotion.

Thirty seconds later Julia joined her husband on a tour of Tommy’s bedroom, where he was eager to show “Uncle Troy” his collection of dead bugs and pricelessly worthless rocks. She then dismissed herself at Tommy’s not-so-subtle insistence. He said it would be a violation of a soldier’s honor to open his secret stash of battle supplies hidden in a box under the bed in the presence of “the fair maiden.”

Troy knelt down before crossing his legs to mimic his mini comrade. Pausing at the bedroom door, Julia turned to enjoy one last look at her husband’s face. The stress lines around his eyes so evident only hours earlier had vanished, like wrinkles on a crumpled shirt freshly ironed flat. Troy relished time with Kevin’s kids. He would probably make a wonderful father.

The thought formed a knot in the pit of Julia’s stomach.

It was
nearly midnight when Julia and Troy stepped onto the hotel elevator. As the doors slid closed he pressed the top button, then took a step backward.

She noticed the illumined number. “Aren’t we on floor seventeen?”

He nodded silently.

“Then why thirty-five?”

He turned and slipped his hands around her waist. “Twice as much time for mischief,” he said, moving in for a kiss.

Julia put both hands against her husband’s chest and gave a weak shove while punching the correct button. “Troy Simmons! I’m a respectable woman.”

“You’re also a beautiful woman,” he said, drawing her body closer.

The kiss began about floor three and continued until briefly interrupted by a voice announcing their arrival.

She grabbed his hand and led him into the hallway, where they tiptoed quickly toward a door both yearned to enter and lock behind them.

Moments later, Julia sensed what little tension remained ebbing out of Troy’s body as she removed his shirt. Then she heard a sound that halted their advance. Troy’s sigh of pleasure and anticipation triggered the memory of another moment, another man. A wave of guilt slowed her throbbing pulse. It was not the first time Troy’s touch had resurfaced old passions. She pulled back, then tried to resume. But a bewildered look told her he had noticed.

“Is something wrong?” Troy asked between winded breaths.

She pressed her lips to his, hoping the present reality could overpower the intruder from her past. No good. The taste of Troy’s kiss only fueled the memory of the nameless encounter her body refused to forget. She pulled back again.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed.

He placed his hand on hers, joining her on the edge of the bed. The two sat silently while Julia considered what to say.

“I forgot to bring protection.” A lie. Claiming forgetfulness seemed better than admitting memories.

The comment clearly bothered him more than the interruption.

“Don’t worry,” Julia added. “I’m sure you can run down to the lobby to buy some. I’ll shower and slip into—”

“I don’t want to buy protection,” he interrupted. “I just want to make love to my wife.”

The comment startled Julia. “You know I’m not on the pill right now. And we don’t like using—”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“What then?” she asked, hugging a pillow to defend her body from the chilly air of an overhead vent.

Deep lines of stress reappeared on Troy’s face. She knew he wanted to say something that he couldn’t put into words.

Then it struck her. “You don’t mean…”

She paused.

He nodded.

She swallowed back a sense of panic. “Troy. Be sensible.”

“I’m tired of being sensible.”

“We’ve only been married for six months,” she reminded him. “We agreed we would consider kids after a few years.”

“I know what we agreed. I was just hoping…”

He didn’t need to finish. Julia recalled the look on her husband’s face when Angie let him hold the new baby before dinner. He stared at little Ricky for at least five minutes, marveling at his fingers, earlobes, and toes. Then he volunteered to sit next to Leah to help her eat. Leah had held a special place in Troy’s heart ever since Kevin told him about her genetic disorder. Tiny signs of fragile X syndrome had begun to appear, nearly indiscernible previews of her coming life filled with limitations and stares. They were nothing that would mark her as particularly unusual to the uninformed eye, but enough to cause Troy to hold her more tightly than he had the others.

Julia had said she was open to becoming a mom someday. She even had started to believe it. But she knew that Troy wanted to be a daddy now.

“Listen, babe,” she said softly. “I think I’ll be ready to talk about having kids soon, OK?”

“Why not talk about it now?”

“While in a romantic hotel room?” she asked playfully. “Not a good idea.”

“Some people would call it the perfect time.”

Julia felt her anxiety rise. Was Troy suggesting a blind conception? Did he honestly think she would consider such a risky option?

“Be serious.” A nervous laugh.

He didn’t respond.

“People don’t do that anymore, Troy.”

“Kevin and Angie do that,” he retorted. “And they have four great kids.”

Julia felt momentarily ashamed of her gut reaction, words that might have appeared in one of her columns a year or two earlier:
They have too many kids. Their irresponsibility brought an unproductive debit into the world
.

But Angie rejected the sensible approach to impregnation. She viewed kids as a gift to receive rather than a product to design. So she refused the common practice of screening out genetically defective embryos and letting a doctor implant the best and brightest. While Julia would no longer think of calling Angie a breeder, her friend fit the label.

“Listen, Troy, I want to give you children. I really do. But I can’t imagine myself going that route. Making love is making love. We can do that here or anywhere you like. But making babies belongs in the clinic. I know you admire Kevin and Angie, but the thought of a blind conception scares me.”

His shoulders slumped at another lost negotiation.

“I tell you what,” she said with forced enthusiasm. “I’ll make an appointment with the in vitro selection clinic as soon as we get home. We can start exploring options. OK?”

Troy seemed somewhat heartened by the suggestion as he moved slowly toward the minibar. He looked inside for a moment before retrieving a bottle of water.

“Do you want something?” he asked.

She removed the pillow from her body and spread her arms toward her husband. “Yes I do.”

He looked away and opened his bottle to take a sip, suddenly immune to her advance.

“So, do you want to go to the lobby while I—”

“We have a big day tomorrow,” he interrupted, passing two fingers across her cheek. “What do you say we get some sleep?”

Julia swallowed back the sting of rejection, trying to own the blame. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He offered an affectionate smile.

She reached for the pillow to cover herself again.