The Wedding
: Chapter 13

When I arrived at Noah’s house the following morning, my eyebrows rose at the sight of the nursery trucks already parked in the drive. There were three large flatbeds crowded with small trees and bushes, while another was loaded with bales of pine straw to spread atop the flower beds, around the trees, and along the fence line. A truck and trailer held various tools and equipment, and three pickups were packed with flats of low flowering plants.

In front of the trucks, workers congregated in groups of five or six. A quick count showed that closer to forty people had come—not the thirty that Little had promised—and all were wearing jeans and baseball caps despite the heat. When I got out of the car, Little approached me with a smile.

“Good—you’re here,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been waiting for you. We can get started, then, yes?”

Within minutes, mowers and tools were unloaded, and the air was soon filled with the sound of engines rising and falling as they crisscrossed the property. Some of the workers began to unload the plants, bushes, and trees, stacking them into wheelbarrows and rolling them to their appropriate spots.

But it was the rose garden that attracted the most attention, and I followed Little as he grabbed a set of pruning shears and headed that way, joining the dozen workers who were already waiting for him. Beautifying the garden struck me as the type of job where it is impossible even to know where to begin, but Little simply started pruning the first bush while describing what he was doing. The workers clustered around him, whispering to one another in Spanish as they watched, then finally dispersed when they understood what he wanted. Hour by hour, the natural colors of the roses were artfully exposed as each bush was thinned and trimmed. Little was adamant that few blooms be lost, necessitating quite a bit of twine as stems were pulled and tied, bent and rotated, into their proper place.

Next came the trellis. Once Little was comfortable, he began to shape the roses that draped it. As he worked, I pointed out where the chairs for the guests would go, and my friend winked.

“You wanted impatiens to line the aisle, yes?”

When I nodded, he brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled. A moment later, flower-filled wheelbarrows were rolled to the spot. Two hours later, I marveled at an aisle gorgeous enough to be photographed by a magazine.

Throughout the morning, the rest of the property began to take shape. Once the yard was mowed, bushes were pruned, and workers started edging around the fence posts, walkways, and the house itself. The electrician arrived to turn on the generator, check the outlets, and the floodlights in the garden. An hour later, the painters arrived; six men in splattered overalls emerged from a run-down van, and they helped the landscaping crew store the furniture in the barn. The man who’d come to pressure-wash the house rolled up the drive and parked next to my car. Within minutes of unloading his equipment, the first intense blast of water hit the wall, and slowly but steadily, each plank turned from gray to white.

With all the individual crews busily at work, I made my way to the workshop and grabbed a ladder. The boards from the windows had to be removed, so I set myself to the task. With something to do, the afternoon passed quickly.

By four, the landscapers were loading their trucks and getting ready to head back; the pressure washer and painters were finishing up as well. I had been able to take off most of the boards; a few remained on the second floor, but I knew I could do those in the morning.

By the time I finished storing the boards under the house, the property seemed strangely silent, and I found myself surveying all that had been done.

Like all half-completed projects, it looked worse than it had when we’d begun that morning. Pieces of landscaping equipment dotted the property; empty pots had been piled haphazardly. Both inside and out, only half the walls had been touched up and reminded me of detergent commercials where one brand promises to clean a white T-shirt better than the next. A mound of yard scrap was piled near the fence, and while the outer hearts of the rose garden had been completed, the inner hearts looked forlorn and wild.

Nonetheless, I felt strangely relieved. It had been a good day’s work, one that left no doubt that everything would be finished in time. Jane would be amazed, and knowing she was on her way home, I was starting for my car when I saw Harvey Wellington, the minister, leaning on the fence that separated Noah’s property from his. Slowing my pace, I hesitated only briefly before crossing the yard to join him. His forehead glistened like polished mahogany, and his spectacles perched low on his nose. Like me, he was dressed as if he’d spent most of the day working outside. As I drew near, he nodded toward the house.

“Getting it all ready for the weekend, I see,” he said.

“Trying,” I said.

“You’ve got enough people working on it, that’s for sure. It looked like a parking lot out there today. What did you have? Fifty people total?”

“Something like that.”

He whistled under his breath as we shook hands. “That’ll take a bite out of the old wallet, won’t it?”

“I’m almost afraid to replace out,” I said.

He laughed. “So how many you expecting this weekend?”

“I’d guess about a hundred or so.”

“It’s going to be some party, that’s for sure,” he said. “I know Alma’s been looking forward to it. This wedding’s been all she can talk about lately. We both think it’s wonderful that you’re making such a big deal about it.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

For a long moment, he held my gaze without responding. As he watched me, I had the strange impression that despite our limited acquaintance, he understood me quite well. It was a little unnerving, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. As a pastor, he was frequently sought for counsel and advice, and I sensed the kindness of someone who’d learned to listen well and sympathize with another’s plight. He was, I thought, a man whom hundreds probably regarded as one of their closest friends.

As if knowing what I was thinking, he smiled. “So, eight o’clock?”

“Any earlier, and I think it would be too hot.”

“It’ll be hot anyway. But I don’t think anyone would care one way or the other.” He motioned toward the house. “I’m glad you’re finally doing something about it. That’s a wonderful place. Always has been.”

“I know.”

He removed his spectacles and began wiping the lenses with his shirttail. “Yeah, I’ll tell you—it’s been a shame watching what’s become of it over the last few years. All it ever needed was for someone to care for it again.” He put his spectacles back on, smiling softly. “It’s funny, but have you ever noticed that the more special something is, the more people seem to take it for granted? It’s like they think it won’t ever change. Just like this house here. All it ever needed was a little attention, and it would never have ended up like this in the first place.”

There were two messages on the answering machine when I arrived home: one from Dr. Barnwell informing me that Noah was back at Creekside and another from Jane saying that she would meet me there around seven.

By the time I arrived at Creekside, most of the family had come and gone. Only Kate remained by Noah’s side when I reached his room, and she brought a finger to her lips as I entered. She rose from her chair and we hugged.

“He just fell asleep,” she whispered. “He must have been exhausted.”

I glanced at him, surprised. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never napped during the day. “Is he doing okay?”

“He was a little cranky while we were trying to get him settled in again, but other than that, he seemed fine.” She tugged at my sleeve. “So tell me—how did it go at the house today? I want to hear all about it.”

I filled her in on the progress, watching her rapt expression as she tried to imagine it. “Jane’ll love it,” she said. “Oh, that reminds me—I talked to her a little while ago. She called to see how Daddy was doing.”

“Did they have any luck with the dresses?”

“I’ll let her tell you about it. But she sounded pretty excited on the phone.” She reached for the purse that was slung over the chair. “Listen, I should probably go. I’ve been here all afternoon, and I know Grayson is waiting for me.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Take care of Daddy, but try not to wake him, okay? He needs his sleep.”

“I’ll be quiet,” I promised.

I moved to the chair next to the window and was just about to sit down when I heard a ragged whisper.

“Hello, Wilson. Thanks for dropping by.”

When I turned toward him, he winked.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Nah,” he said. He began to sit up in the bed. “I had to fake it. She’s been fussing over me all day like a baby. She even followed me into the bathroom again.”

I laughed. “Just what you wanted, right? A little pampering from your daughter?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s just what I need. I didn’t have half that fussing when I was in the hospital. By the way she was acting, you’d think I had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel.”

“Well, you’re in rare form today. I take it you’re feeling like new?”

“Could be better,” he said with a shrug. “Could be worse, though, too. But my head’s fine, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No dizziness? Or headaches? Maybe you should rest a bit anyway. If you need me to feed you some yogurt, just let me know.”

He waggled a finger at me. “Now don’t you start with me. I’m a patient man, but I’m not a saint. And I’m not in the mood. I’ve been cooped up for days and haven’t so much as smelled a breath of fresh air.” He motioned toward the closet. “Would you mind getting me my sweater?”

I already knew where he wanted to go.

“It’s still pretty warm out there,” I offered.

“Just get me the sweater,” he said. “And if you offer to help me put it on, I should warn you that I just might punch you in the nose.”

A few minutes later, we left the room, Wonder Bread in hand. As he shuffled along, I could see him beginning to relax. Though Creekside would always be a foreign place to us, it had become home to Noah, and he was obviously comfortable here. It was clear how much others had missed him, too—at each open door, he waved a greeting and said a few words to his friends, promising most of them that he’d be back later to read.

He refused to let me take his arm, so I walked close to his side. He seemed slightly more unsteady than usual, and it wasn’t until we were out of the building that I was confident he could make it on his own. Still, at the pace we walked, it took a while to reach the pond, and I had plenty of time to observe that the root had been taken out. I wondered if Kate had reminded one of her brothers to take care of it or whether they’d remembered on their own.

We sat in our usual places and gazed out over the water, though I couldn’t see the swan. Figuring it was hiding in the shallows off to either side of us, I leaned back in my seat. Noah began to tear the bread into small pieces.

“I heard what you told Kate about the house,” he said. “How are my roses doing?”

“They’re not finished, but you’ll like what the crew has done so far.”

He piled the pieces of bread in his lap. “That garden means a lot to me. It’s almost as old as you are.”

“Is it?”

“The first bushes went in the ground in April 1951,” he said, nodding. “Of course, I’ve had to replace most of them over the years, but that’s when I came up with the design and started working on it.”

“Jane told me you surprised Allie with it… to show how much you loved her.”

He snorted. “That’s only half the story,” he said. “But I’m not surprised she thinks that. Sometimes I think Jane and Kate believe I spent every waking moment doting on Allie.”

“You mean you didn’t?” I asked, feigning shock.

He laughed. “Hardly. We had rows now and then, just like everyone else. We were just good at making up. But as for the garden, I suppose they’re partly right. At least in the beginning.” He set the pieces of bread off to one side. “I planted it when Allie was pregnant with Jane. She wasn’t more than a few months along, and she was sick all the time. I figured it would pass after the first few weeks, but it didn’t. There were days when she could barely get out of bed, and I knew that with summer coming, she was going to be even more miserable. So I wanted to give her something pretty to look at that she could see from her window.” He squinted into the sun. “Did you know that at first there was only one heart, not five?”

I raised my eyebrows. “No, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t plan on that, of course, but after Jane was born, I sort of got to thinking that the first heart looked mighty skimpy and I needed to plant some more bushes to fill it out. But I kept putting it off because it had been so much work the first time, and by the time I finally got around to the task, she was already pregnant again. When she saw what I was doing, she just assumed I’d done it because we had another child on the way, and she told me it was the sweetest thing I’d ever done for her. After that, I couldn’t exactly stop. That’s what I mean when I say it’s only partly right. The first one might have been a romantic gesture; but by the last one, it felt more like a chore. Not just the planting, but keeping them going. Roses are tough. When they’re young, they sort of sprout up like a tree, but you have to keep cutting them back so they form right. Every time they started blooming, I’d have to head out with my shears to prune them back into shape, and for a long time, the garden seemed as though it would never look right. And it hurt, too. Those thorns are sharp. I spent a lot of years with my hands bandaged up like a mummy.”

I smiled. “I’ll bet she appreciated what you were doing, though.”

“Oh, she did. For a while, anyway. Until she asked me to plow the whole thing under.”

At first, I didn’t think I’d heard him correctly, but his expression let me know I had. I recalled the melancholy I sometimes felt when staring at Allie’s paintings of the garden.

“Why?”

Noah squinted into the sun before sighing. “As much as she loved the garden, she said it was too painful to look at. Whenever she looked out the window, she’d start crying, and sometimes it seemed like she’d never stop.”

It took a moment before I realized why.

“Because of John,” I said softly, referring to the child who’d died of meningitis when he was four. Jane, like Noah, seldom mentioned him.

“Losing him nearly killed her.” He paused. “Nearly killed me, too. He was such a sweet little boy—just at that age where he was beginning to discover the world, when everything’s new and exciting. As the baby, he used to try to keep up with the bigger kids. He was always chasing after them in the yard. And he was healthy, too. Never had so much as an ear infection or a serious cold before he got sick. That’s why it was such a shock. One week he was playing in the yard, and the next week, we were at his funeral. After that, Allie could barely eat or sleep, and when she wasn’t crying, she just sort of wandered around in a daze. I wasn’t sure she’d ever get over it. That’s when she told me to plow the garden under.”

He drifted off. I said nothing, knowing it wasn’t possible to fully imagine the pain of losing a child.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked after a while.

“I thought it was just her grief talking,” he said quietly, “and I wasn’t sure if she really wanted me to do it, or just said it because her pain was so awful that day. So I waited. I figured if she asked me a second time, I would do it. Or I’d offer to remove just the outer heart, if she wanted to keep the rest of it. But in the end, she never did. And after that? Even though she used it in a lot of her paintings, she never felt the same way about it. When we lost John, it stopped being a happy thing for her. Even when Kate got married there, she had mixed feelings about it.”

“Do the kids know why there are five rings?”

“Maybe in the back of their minds they do, but they would have had to figure it out on their own. It wasn’t something Allie or I liked to talk about. After John died, it was easier to think about the garden as a single gift, rather than five. And so that’s what it became. And when the kids were older and finally got around to asking about it, Allie just told them that I’d planted it for her. So to them, it’s always been this romantic gesture.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the swan appear and glide toward us. It was curious that it hadn’t appeared before now, and I wondered where it had been. I thought that Noah would toss a piece of bread immediately, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply watched it paddle closer. When it was a few feet away, the swan seemed to hover briefly, but then, to my surprise, it approached the bank.

A moment later it waddled toward us, and Noah stretched out his hand. The swan leaned into his touch, and as Noah spoke quietly to it, I was suddenly struck by the thought that the swan had actually missed Noah, too.

Noah fed the swan, and afterward I watched in wonder as—just as he’d once confided—the swan settled down at his feet.

An hour later, the clouds began to roll in. Dense and full bellied, they portended the type of summer storm common in the South—intense rain for twenty minutes, then slowly clearing skies. The swan was back-paddling in the pond, and I was about to suggest that we go back inside when I heard Anna’s voice behind us.

“Hey, Grampa! Hey, Daddy!” she called out. “When you weren’t in the room, we thought we might replace you out here.”

I turned to see a cheerful Anna approaching. Jane trailed wearily a few steps behind. Her smile seemed strained—this, I knew, was the one place she dreaded replaceing her father.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, rising. Anna hugged me fiercely, her arms tight around my back.

“How’d it go today?” I asked. “Did you replace the dress?”

When she released me, she couldn’t hide the excitement. “You’re going to love it,” she promised, squeezing my arms. “It’s perfect.”

By then Jane had reached us, and letting go of Anna, I embraced Jane as if doing so had somehow become natural again. She felt soft and warm, a reassuring presence.

“C’mere,” Noah said to Anna. He patted the bench. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing to get yourself ready for the weekend.”

Anna sat down and reached for his hand. “It’s been fantastic,” she said. “I never imagined how much fun it would be. We must have gone into a dozen stores. And you should see Leslie! We found a dress for her too that’s totally awesome.”

Jane and I stood off to the side as Anna recounted the whirlwind activities of the past couple of days. As she told one story after another, she alternately bumped Noah playfully or squeezed his hand. Despite the sixty years between them, it was obvious how comfortable they were together. Though grandparents often have special relationships with their grandchildren, Noah and Anna were clearly friends, and I felt a surge of parental pride at the young woman Anna had become. I could tell by the softness in Jane’s expression that she was feeling exactly the same way, and though I hadn’t done such a thing in years, I slowly slipped my arm around her.

I suppose I wasn’t sure what to expect—for a second she seemed almost startled—but when she relaxed beneath my arm, there was an instant where all seemed right in the world. In the past, words had always failed me at moments like this. Perhaps I’d secretly feared that speaking my feelings aloud would somehow diminish them. Yet now I realized how wrong I’d been to withhold my thoughts, and bringing my lips to her ear, I whispered the words that I should never have kept inside:

“I love you, Jane, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you.”

Though she didn’t say a word, the way she leaned further against me was all the response I needed.

The thunder began half an hour later, a deep echo that seemed to ripple across the sky. After walking Noah to his room, Jane and I left for home, parting ways with Anna in the parking lot.

Riding through downtown, I stared out the windshield at the sun cutting through thickening clouds, casting shadows and making the river shine like gold. Jane was surprisingly quiet, gazing out the window, and I found myself glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Her hair was tucked neatly behind her ear, and the pink blouse she wore made her skin glow like that of a young child. On her hand shone the ring she’d worn for almost thirty years, the diamond engagement ring coupled with the narrow gold band.

We entered our neighborhood; a moment later, we pulled into the drive and Jane roused herself with a weary smile.

“Sorry about being so quiet. I guess I’m sort of tired.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a big week.”

I brought her suitcase inside, watching as she dropped her purse on the table near the door.

“Would you like some wine?” I asked.

Jane yawned and shook her head. “No, not tonight. If I had a glass, I think I’d fall asleep. I’d love a glass of water, though.”

In the kitchen, I filled two glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator. She took a long drink, then leaned against the counter and propped one leg against the cupboards behind her in her habitual pose.

“My feet are killing me. We barely stopped for a minute all day. Anna looked at a couple hundred dresses before she found the right one. And actually, Leslie was the one who pulled it off the rack. I think she was getting desperate by then—Anna’s got to be one of the most indecisive people I’ve ever met.”

“What’s it like?”

“Oh, you should see her in it. It’s one of those mermaid-style dresses, and it really flatters her figure. It’s still got to be fitted, but Keith’s going to love it.”

“I’ll bet she looks beautiful.”

“She does.” By her dreamy expression, I knew she was seeing it again. “I’d show you, but Anna doesn’t want you to see it until the weekend. She wants it to be a surprise.” She paused. “So how did it go on your end? Did anyone show up at the house?”

“Everyone,” I said, filling her in on the details of the morning.

“Amazing,” she said, refilling her glass. “Considering it’s so last minute, I mean.”

From the kitchen, we could see the sliding glass windows that led to the deck. The light outside had dimmed under the thickening clouds, and the first drops of rain began to hit the window, lightly at first. The river was gray and ominous; a moment later, there was a flash of light followed by the crackling of thunder, and the downpour began in earnest. Jane turned toward the windows as the storm unleashed its fury.

“Do you know if it’s going to rain on Saturday?” she asked. Her voice, I thought, was surprisingly calm; I expected her to be more anxious. I thought of her peacefulness in the car, and I realized she hadn’t said a word about Noah’s presence at the pond. Watching her, I had the strange sense that her mood had something to do with Anna.

“It’s not supposed to,” I said. “They’re forecasting clear skies. This is supposed to be the last of the showers passing through.”

Silently we stared at the falling rain together. Aside from the gentle patter of water, all was quiet. There was a faraway look in Jane’s eyes, and the ghost of a smile played on her lips.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she asked. “Watching the rain? We used to do that at my parents’ house, remember? When we’d sit on the porch?”

“I remember.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”

“We haven’t done this in a long time.”

“No,” I said, “we haven’t.”

She seemed lost in thought, and I prayed that this newfound sense of calm wouldn’t give way to the familiar sadness I had come to dread. Yet her expression didn’t change, and after a long moment, she glanced at me.

“Something else happened today,” she said, looking down at her glass.

“Oh?”

Looking up again, she met my eyes. They seemed to be sparkling with unshed tears.

“I won’t be able to sit with you at the wedding.”

“You won’t?”

“I can’t,” she said. “I’ll be up front with Anna and Keith.”

“Why?”

Jane brought her hand to the glass. “Because Anna asked me to be her matron of honor.” Her voice cracked a little. “She said she was closer to me than to anyone, and that I’d done so much for her and the wedding…. ” She blinked rapidly and gave a small sniff. “I know it’s silly, but I was just so surprised when she asked me that I barely knew what to say. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. She was so sweet when she asked, like it really meant something to her.”

She swiped at her tears, and I felt a tightness in my throat. Asking a father to be best man was fairly typical in the South, but it was rare for a mother to act as matron of honor.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

Lightning was followed by thunder again, though they both barely registered, and we stood in the kitchen until long after the storm had passed, sharing our silent joy.

When the rain had stopped completely, Jane slid open the glass doors and skipped out onto the deck. Water still dripped from the gutters and the porch railings, while tendrils of steam rose from the deck.

As I followed her, I felt my back and arms aching from my earlier exertions. I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to loosen them up.

“Have you eaten?” Jane asked.

“Not yet. Do you want to head out and grab a bite?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I’m pretty worn out.”

“How about if we order in to celebrate? Something easy? Something… fun.”

“Like what?”

“How about a pizza?”

She put her hands on her hips. “We haven’t ordered a pizza since Leslie moved out.”

“I know. But it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“It’s always good. It’s just that you always get indigestion afterward.”

“True,” I admitted. “But I’m willing to live dangerously tonight.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I just throw something together? I’m sure we’ve got something in the freezer.”

“C’mon,” I said. “We haven’t split a pizza in years. Just the two of us, I mean. We’ll kick back on the couch, eat straight from the box—you know? Just like we used to. It’ll be fun.”

She stared at me quizzically. “You want to do something… fun.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you want to order, or should I?” she finally asked.

“I’ll take care of it. What do you want on it?”

She thought for a moment. “How about the works?” she said.

“Why not?” I agreed.

The pizza arrived half an hour later. By then, Jane had changed into jeans and a dark T-shirt, and we ate the pizza like a couple of college students in a dorm room. Despite her earlier refusal of a glass of wine, we ended up sharing a cold beer from the fridge.

While we ate, Jane filled in more details about her day. The morning had been spent looking for dresses for Leslie and Jane, despite Jane’s protests that she could “just pick up something simple at Belk’s.” Anna had been adamant that Jane and Leslie each pick out something they loved—and could wear again.

“Leslie found the most elegant dress—knee-length, like a cocktail dress. It looked so good on Leslie that Anna insisted on trying it on just for kicks.” Jane sighed. “The girls have really turned into such beauties.”

“They got your genes,” I said seriously.

Jane only laughed and waved a hand at me, her mouth full of pizza.

As the evening wore on, the sky outside turned indigo blue and the moonlit clouds were edged with silver. When we finished, we sat unmoving, listening to the sound of wind chimes in the summer breeze. Jane leaned her head back on the couch, staring at me through half-closed eyes, her gaze oddly seductive.

“That was a good idea,” she said. “I was hungrier than I thought.”

“You didn’t eat that much.”

“I have to squeeze into my dress this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said. “You’re as beautiful as the day I married you.”

At her tense smile, I saw that my words didn’t have quite the effect I’d hoped. Abruptly, she turned to face me on the couch. “Wilson? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “It’s about what happened at the pond today.”

The swan, I immediately thought, but before I could explain that Noah had asked me to take him there—and would have gone with or without me—she went on.

“What did you mean when you said what you did?” she asked.

I frowned in puzzlement. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking.”

“When you said you loved me and that you were the luckiest man in the world.”

For a stunned moment, I simply stared at her. “I meant what I said,” I repeated dumbly.

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” I said, unable to hide my confusion. “Why?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you said it,” she said matter-of-factly. “It isn’t like you to say something like that out of the blue.”

“Well… it just felt like the right thing to say.”

At my answer, she brought her lips together, her face growing serious. She glanced up at the ceiling and seemed to be steeling herself before turning her gaze on me again. “Are you having an affair?” she demanded.

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I suddenly realized she wasn’t kidding. I could see her trying to read my face, evaluating the truthfulness of what I intended to say next. I took her hand in my own and rested my other hand on top of it. “No,” I said, looking directly at her. “I’m not having an affair. I’ve never had an affair, and I never will. Nor have I ever wanted to.”

After a few moments of careful scrutiny, she nodded. “Okay,” she said.

“I’m serious,” I emphasized.

She smiled and gave my hand a squeeze. “I believe you. I didn’t think you were, but I had to ask.”

I stared at her in bewilderment. “Why would the thought have even crossed your mind?”

“You,” she said. “The way you’ve been acting.”

“I don’t understand.”

She gave me a frankly assessing look. “Okay, look at it from my perspective. First, you start exercising and losing weight. Then, you start cooking and asking me about my days. If that weren’t enough, you’ve been unbelievably helpful this whole week… with everything, lately. And now, you’ve started saying these uncharacteristically sweet things. First, I thought it was a phase, then I thought it was because of the wedding. But now… well, it’s like you’re someone else all of a sudden. I mean… apologizing for not being around enough? Telling me you love me out of the blue? Listening to me talk for hours about shopping? Let’s order pizza and have fun? I mean, it’s great, but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing it because you felt guilty about something. I still don’t understand what’s happened to you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that I feel guilty. Well, except about working too much, I mean. I do feel bad about that. But the way I’ve been acting… it’s just…”

When I trailed off, Jane leaned toward me.

“Just what?” she pressed.

“Like I said the other night, I haven’t been the best husband, and I don’t know… I guess I’m trying to change.”

“Why?”

Because I want you to love me again, I thought, but I kept those words to myself.

“Because,” I said after a moment, “you and the kids are the most important people in the world to me—you always have been—and I’ve wasted too many years acting as if you weren’t. I know I can’t change the past, but I can change the future. I can change, too. And I will.”

She squinted at me. “You mean you’ll quit working so hard?”

Her tone was sweet but skeptical, and it made me ache to think of what I’d become.

“If you asked me to retire right now, I would,” I said.

Her eyes took on their seductive gleam again.

“See what I mean? You’re not yourself these days.”

Though she was teasing—and wasn’t quite sure whether she believed me—I knew she’d liked what I said.

“Now can I ask you something?” I went on.

“Why not?” she said.

“Since Anna will be over at Keith’s parents’ house tomorrow night, and with Leslie and Joseph coming in on Friday, I was thinking that we might do something special tomorrow evening.”

“Like what?”

“How about… you let me come up with something and surprise you.”

She rewarded me with a coy smile. “You know I like surprises.”

“Yes,” I said, “I do.”

“I’d love that,” she said with undisguised pleasure.