Merle stared at Anne stonily. He couldn’t believe the things she was telling him. Forget that he was a virtual stranger; her conduct was downright ghastly. No wonder she was alone and divorced. She was an awful person. He couldn’t believe she was able to justify her behavior so easily. Merle couldn’t find a bit of disdain for her son—he quite agreed with the boy. Any woman who would treat a pregnant girl with such blatant disregard for her welfare was a waste of space in Merle’s opinion. He couldn’t believe a mother of four would act so inappropriately. She told her story with something close to pride, and Merle found himself becoming irate with her. Here this woman sat, bitter and unyielding: she was perfectly healthy and had a large family, yet God had taken his sweet happy, Martha away.
Anne looked at Merle expectantly. He had listened to her tell her story patiently, a look of mild alarm and disappointment on his face. Anne expected Merle to agree with her, because, of course, she was in the right. Jason’s treatment of her was uncalled for and she’d only been telling him the truth about Alexia. When Merle finally spoke Anne looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. She was so surprised by the words that spouted from his mouth; she didn’t know what to say.
“You selfish woman! How could a mother treat her son and his fiancé so terribly? Life is too short to behave so pettily. You should be grateful for every moment you have in this life to spend with your children and grandchildren—including the one you have so crudely discarded by your careless and insensitive behavior. No wonder you’re divorced and alone. There are people who live every moment for someone else, and yet here you are, expecting everyone to sway to you and strive to please you. How sad you are.” Merle was disgusted with her, and for some reason he felt saddened and disappointed. He’d actually thought she would be someone with whom he could enjoy a deep friendship.
“Live for someone else? I was married twenty-two years; just to have my husband tell me he wanted a divorce!” Anne’s voice was raw with pain and humiliation.
Merle shook his head in disgust. “It takes two, you know; to make it, and break it.” He stood, feeling a little wobbly, and left without a backward glance. Merle drove to subway and ordered a foot long roast beef sandwich. He hadn’t been able to eat any of the food Anne had offered him, so disturbed by her story, and he was woozy from donating blood. The nerve of that woman, Merle thought. He couldn’t believe she actually thought he’d agree with her. Sitting there, acting so self-righteous. He barely tasted his sandwich as he gulped it down in his agitation. His disappointment in her was profound. Damn him for thinking he’d be able to start over.
Anne watched Merle leave the Red Cross filled with resentment. Tammy found Anne sitting at the table, alone. “Is Merle still here? He wasn’t supposed to leave before seeing me.”
“He walked out.” Anne’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. She was too shocked to feel much of anything.
“What? He shouldn’t have left. I needed to check him to see if he was okay.”
“He’s well enough to storm out of here.” Anne mumbled, standing and walking to the receptionist table. Tammy watched after her, curious and confused. She shook her head. There were a lot of donors waiting.
Chapter Seventeen
Anne tried to ignore the things Merle had said to her, but his words kept echoing through her mind. She was selfish and cruel? Her kids had told her that on occasion, but she thought they’d only been trying to hurt her. Usually they said it when she refused to give them something they wanted from the house. But Merle was a virtual stranger. He had no reason to want to hurt her. Anne tried to think about her behavior in the last few years. Life had been difficult since the divorce, and she was certain she’d changed a great deal in the last six years. She knew she hadn’t always been the easiest person to get along with, but was she really so terrible? She thought of Franklin’s mother, Tessa; a woman she completely abhorred, and of how she would say some rather rude things to Anne. It had always felt terrible. Even though Tessa was of no direct relation to Anne, somehow when she criticized her it hurt so much worse than when her own mother or family members criticized her. When she was pregnant for Michael, Tessa told her she was bigger than a barn and that she ate too much. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but Anne was so emotional from the pregnancy that she took it way too seriously. She’d almost stopped eating.
Anne remembered how it had felt when Tessa expressed her disappointment over Anne’s first pregnancy. She felt that Anne and Franklin should have waited at least a year or two before they had children; taken time to enjoy being just the two of them. Thinking back, Anne wondered what it would have been like if they had waited, but she would never regret not waiting. She loved her children. But at the time Anne had felt totally depleted and miserable. Tessa wasn’t the best grandmother, but she’d been good to the kids. Anne remembered watching Michael help in the garden. She’d been so jealous because Tessa could get the kids to do anything she asked, while for Anne it felt like pulling teeth to get them to help. Tessa would just smile that smug little smile of hers as if to say, “they like me better,” and Anne would want to slap her.
What was Anne supposed to do? Take it all back? It seemed a bit late for that, besides, her pride didn’t want her to take it back. She’d gotten over the things Tessa said to her, why couldn’t Alexia get over the things Anne said. For the thousandth time Anne wondered if Alexia was really having complications or if Jason was just trying to make her feel bad. Anne didn’t wish for any woman to miscarry. It was a horrible experience and truly heartbreaking. Anne continued working in a sort of stupor for the rest of the day. Everything seemed to be in a haze. She helped donors to the snack tables or to a nurse. She kept the trays filled with goodies and refreshments, but none of it seemed to be real. She couldn’t stop hearing the words Merle had said to her.
No wonder you’re divorced and alone.
Was it truly Anne’s fault that Franklin left her? Not entirely, she knew that for sure, but as Merle had so eloquently said, it takes two. If she’d been more attentive to Franklin and less bitter, she might have managed to save her marriage. Was she really discarding Jason’s baby? Anne didn’t want to think about it anymore. It made her head hurt and her heart ache. Maybe she had made a terrible mistake.
Anne drove home slowly, still intent on the things Merle had said. Tammy was worried about Merle; telling Anne about his deceased wife and all he’d been through in the last few years. Anne felt rotten for trying to get his sympathy. Here she was, complaining about her lot in life, and his wife died young from an incurable disease. At least Anne had some kind of control over the things in her life. She shook her head. He wasn’t necessarily right. Maybe she’d been a little harsh, but that didn’t mean she was entirely wrong. She didn’t think Alexia was perfect for Jason or that she would make him a good wife. She’d been so quiet and reserved and Jason loved being a part of a crowd.
Anne pulled into the garage and climbed out of her car. She went into the empty house, looking at her answering machine. No messages. Damn. She’d thought for sure Jason would have called by now. He had the entire day off. Anne picked up the phone and listened as it rang. Again there was no answer. “Jason, this is Mom, I want to talk to you. Give me a call.” Anne hung up irritably. He could at least answer the stupid phone when she called. She knew he was screening her calls and it irked her beyond measure.
Anne paced the living room but to no avail. Nothing was making her feel better. She needed a release of some kind.
The basement!
she thought suddenly. She’d clean the basement. She hadn’t done that in forever, and it could certainly use the attention.
It took Anne five hours working non-stop to clean the basement. It was a complete disaster. There were dishes to be washed and put away, toys everywhere, garbage, empty bottles, and the floor hadn’t been vacuumed in months, if not longer. Anne was embarrassed that she’d let anyone sleep down there in the last year. There was at least an inch of dust covering everything, and the bathroom was disgusting. No wonder the kids didn’t want to stay with her much—it probably wasn’t safe for the grandkids to be in such a mess. Anne sat down on the old sofa. The roses were faded and worn, the cushions dented from years of use. What was happening to her? How could she have let herself fall so far? She knew she couldn’t blame Franklin for all of it. His leaving was only part of the problem. Was she really so self-involved that she thought her loss was greater than his? She knew he blamed himself for the baby as much as she did. He even visited the grave occasionally, because she’d find flowers on the tombstone they’d placed in the small ‘babyland’ area of the cemetery. It was meant to help them get over their loss, but it hadn’t helped Anne. All she felt when she went to the cemetery was her sadness and pain. Maybe if she’d managed to get pregnant again and have another baby things would have been better; she might not be quite so bitter, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Anne looked around her at the cedar-paneled room. It was much cleaner than it had been in years. She smiled. She had a lot more work ahead of her if she wanted to clean the entire house as well, but she was determined. Then she had one extremely long and awkward phone call to make.
Chapter Eighteen
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered groggily.
“Donna? Is Franklin there?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Anne. Could I please talk with Franklin?”
“Yeah, just a second.” Anne heard Donna moving around, probably climbing out of bed. It was late Sunday night. There were soft whispers, and Anne could tell Donna was trying to cover the mouthpiece as she spoke with Franklin.
“Anne? Is Trisha okay?” Franklin’s voice was full of concern when he came on the line. He didn’t sound particularly groggy, but then again, he’d never been one to go to bed early.
“Trisha is fine, Franklin. I’m sorry to call you so late.” Anne paused, her pulse speeding as she tried to gain courage. “I need someone to talk to who will be totally honest with me. Whatever we are now, we were friends once, very much in love, and I need you.” Anne was afraid he’d flat out refuse to talk to her, but she was praying that he still cared enough about her that he’d give her a chance. She wasn’t sure he could give her what she asked, or if he’d be able to answer her honestly, but she was hoping that he’d find it in his heart to help her.
“Anne…” Franklin wasn’t sure what to say. Did she want him back? She was six years too late. He was happily married to Donna. He would always love Anne; she was the mother of his children, but he would never go back to her. There were many times in the last six years that he’d regretted his decision, but he would never take it back. As much as he still cared for Anne, he was married to Donna, and he loved her.
“Please, Franklin. I need help.” Anne didn’t want to beg, but if she had to, she’d drive to his house and talk to him face to face to see if he could turn her away when he saw her sincerity.
“What do you want me to do?” Franklin sighed. He shrugged when Donna looked at him in alarm. “Just a minute, Anne.” Franklin pulled the receiver away from his mouth. “Honey, why don’t you go back up to bed? I’ll be up shortly,” he assured her, kissing her softly. One of the things he loved most about Donna was that she never questioned him. She’d go upstairs and go to sleep and trust that he’d tell her what was going on later. She never doubted him or thought he was doing something he shouldn’t be. He waited until he heard her enter the bedroom upstairs before he held the phone up to his lips. “What is it, Anne?”
Anne kept Franklin on the phone until well after three in the morning. They both cried several times. She explained how awful she felt for never realizing just how hurt he’d been at the loss of their child, and how she understood that he’d only been trying to be the strong one, for her sake. It felt as though he hadn’t cared because the loss never truly seemed to have touched him. He was ready to try again within a month, and she hadn’t been ready for almost a year. He thought that having another baby would help her to heal, he explained, and he’d wanted her to get better. They talked of the good times, before the lost baby, and how the kids grew up way too fast. Anne told him about her counselor, and her job, and how very lonely she was most of the time. She described how the house was practically in shambles, but she was finally trying to fix it; or at least the things she could fix. Because they’d spent so many years being intimate, it was easy to open up to each other again. Anne felt no reservations when she asked Franklin, “Just how bad have I gotten?” and she didn’t even resent his honest reply, rather she was grateful for his candor.