Beginning, Previous Section, Section VII
Jump to new as of May 13, 1999
Jump to new as of May 15, 1999
Jump to new as of May 17, 1999
Thursday
January 18th 1999
10:33 a.m.
Jane sat in the kitchen, alone. The housekeeper had gone off to run some errands leaving her a pot of fresh coffee, which she had two cups out of already. Charles had made the request of her last night that she not be present for the reading of the will. Explaining that he expected his sister's reaction to turn personal, he wanted to take the brunt of the attacks by himself.
When Jane asked him why he believed this might happen, he told her that Lillian's estate was not equally divided, and since the balance of the assets fell to him, he expected Louisa and Caroline to let their jealously get the best of them.
Up until this point, Jane had given no thought to financial condition of Charles's family. It was obvious that they lived comfortably (like her own), but she had no idea to what extent. Granted, the house alone was worth over one million, and the furnishings, art work, and antiques raised the value considerably, but these were all items that were accumulated over time and would never be sold. Both Charles and Lillian shared the same work ethic, and neither had shied away from getting their hands dirty as they earned a living. Lillian had worked her dairy farms and Charles his practice in Detroit as a state employee. So, when Charles told her that he was considering evening out the distribution of funds with his own money, she equated the amount of money he was referring to as close to her own inheritance.
Jane was way off.
Charles raised his hand to signal his sister to not start talking until the lawyer was out of the house. The storm was coming; one looked at Caroline's tight-lipped sneer told him that. When he was certain the man was gone, he shut the study door and all hell broke loose.
"You miserable son of a b****! What did you say to Grandmother to get her to give you everything?" Caroline screeched at the top of her lungs. If she thought she hated Charles before, it was nothing compared to now. Her worthless, weak brother had finally done it. He had gotten even with her for his childhood.
Charles didn't say anything as he leveled his eyes at her. He expected no better from his sister, and had vowed to himself not to sink to her level. Glancing over at Louisa to see if she was going to say anything, he noticed she sat with a frown on her face reading over her copy of the will. But where Caroline went, Louisa usually followed, so he knew it was only a matter of time before she let her voice be heard.
"Did you give her your sob story about Mother? YOU ARE PATHETIC! Grandfather would have never allowed this sort of favoritism to happen had he been alive."
"Enough! If you'll just shut up and sit down, we'll go over the will." As much as Charles hated to admit it, Caroline's last statement was correct. Gregory would have made sure everything was fairly divided. This had been heavy on his mind as he tried to get to sleep last night.
"No, it's time you knew the truth, Brother. You're sensitive guy routine is just a cover for your own cowardliness. You sneak behind our backs and take everything in an effort to make us pay because your feelings were hurt as a child. That's bull****!" Caroline barely drew breath before she continued. "You're the laughing stock of the family. Lillian's little puppy...waiting to get his head patted."
Charles vow to himself lasted all of one minute, and he was mad.
"If you want to turn this into a personal attack of character, I'll gladly take you on, Caroline." Charles shouted back at her. "I can't lose! Nothing will be resolved that way, but we'll both get a lot off of our chests. I don't see what you're complaining about, she gave you 1.3 mill..."
"This isn't just about the money, you idiot! It's about YOU! I think it's about time someone told you the truth." Caroline stepped closer to Charles, ready to rip him to shreds with her words.
"And you think I'm going to listen to you? You've never been anything but greedy and selfish." Charles closed the gap between them and now they were only three feet apart. "I don't give a damn about what you have to say."
Louisa, who had not said one word up to this point, stood up and watched her siblings closely. This was the ugliest she had ever seen them argue. She remained silent, but ready to get between them if need be.
"Well, you had better listen closely, because I'm going to tell you something you should have been told a long time ago. Not only did Mother never want you in the first place, there..."
"Oh, and when did Mother say this? When she was drunk?" He spit back at her.
Charles was sick of Caroline giving him the 'Mother never liked you' line. She had done it every time they had a fight since he was a child. But, this was the first time he had brought up her drinking and thrown it back in his sister's face.
"(*Bleep*) you! Lillian drove her to drink because she wouldn't give you back."
"You have just contradicted yourself, Caroline! Typical!"
"Wrong, little brother. You don't know the half of it. Mother was going to give you to Grandmother Gibson. She didn't want you to live with us. Do you want to know what she used to tell Louisa and me?"
"SHUT UP, Caroline!" He bellowed at her.
"You're a Fool, Charles. You don't even want to know what people say behind your back."
Charles had never felt such an intense hatred for anyone like he did for Caroline, and he had to move several feet away from her before they both lost total control. This fight had turned into one of two people who could throw stones at each other until one of them was dead. Their differences would never be resolved--never.
Caroline was not finished with him, yet.
"That pretty little girlfriend you have for the moment, I guarantee...as soon as a REAL MAN comes along, she'll be gone. Unless my instincts are right and she's just with you for the money. If that's the case, she'll just have to sneak behind your back like Ellen did."
Caroline had been waiting a long time to use her trump card, and it felt good. She and Ellen's oldest sister had been friends in college. In fact, it was at Caroline's graduation from college that Charles had first met Ellen. They didn't start seeing each other for a few years after that initial meeting, but Caroline had kept her ties to Ellen's family.
"What?" He knew Caroline was a liar, but he had to hear her explanation.
"Who do you think she called for advice? I know the whole sorted story. 'I don't know how to break it off with him. Charles is not the type of man I want to spend my life with; I don't even like him. He's too needy'." Caroline prepared one more statement with the look of pure hatred in her eyes. "And I'll be there when Jane says the same thing. Because a man like you won't be able to keep her for long."
"Caroline! Enough!" Louisa, who had been too shocked to say anything up to this point, spoke up. Charles had clinched his fists in a rage, and Louisa knew that the threshold had been crossed.
"Go to Hell!" He said in a low rumble.
"I pity you, Charles, which should make you happy. I know I'm a B****, but you don't even know what you are."
"Get out of my house." He stormed over to the door and threw it open, almost taking it off the hinges.
"Try and make me." She challenged.
"GET OUT!" Charles's voice traveled through the house.
For once Caroline knew she had better listen. She took her jewelry box that had been in the safe, her purse, and left the room. Charles slammed the door behind her.
"I'm contesting the will." She screamed at the closed door. What Caroline did not know was that Lillian had signed over most of Charles's inheritance two years ago. If a lawyer were to compare the actual value each grandchild received according to the will, Charles would only be slightly ahead of his sisters. Everything else was already in his name.
Caroline dug in her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one before she reached the stairs. With every step she took down, the more anger began to well up inside of her. It had been her intention to get Charles to cave in and give her more money, but her attacks against his person had went on for too long, and she lost her chance.
When she neared the foyer, she eyed the vase she had hinted to Lillian that she wanted. Caroline knew its value was estimated at $3,000 and had been the personal favorite of her Grandmother's. Putting her cigarette in her mouth, she shifted her belongings under her left arm and with her right hand lifted the heavy vase off of the table. She wasn't planning on stealing it.
Holding the vase as high as she could, her hand was about to release it when one strong hand, and then another, took hold of the lip of the vase.
Jane stood there, coming out of nowhere, and Caroline met her hard, icy gaze with one of her own.
"Let go of it now." Jane threatened her.
Caroline made a condescending face at her, but did not remove her grip.
"What do you care?" She looked at the position of the hands to determine if a tug would do any good, when she noticed the engagement ring.
"You're going to marry him? G-d, Jane. You can do better than that!" Caroline blinked as the smoke from her cigarette began to irritate her contacts.
"Let go of the vase," Jane repeated. She wasn't going to justify Caroline's words with a response. She, too, had been calculating the odds of the vase surviving if she pulled it from Caroline's hand. They were pretty good, but it seemed as if Caroline's own smoke might make it unnecessary.
Jane waited her out while tightening her own grip.
Unable to take the stinging of her eyes anymore, Caroline took her hand away.
"Get out!" Jane hissed at her, echoing Charles's words.
Caroline removed her cigarette from her mouth causing ashes fall on the floor.
"You two deserve each other." With those words, she left the house. In her last act of hostility, she left the front door wide open. Caroline would never enter Charles's home again.
Jane remained where she was, clutching the vase to her chest. There was still one more sister upstairs, and she wasn't going to take any chances. Raising her eyes to the second floor, she wondered how it was going between Charles and Louisa.
Charles turned to his oldest sister after taking several minutes to settle down.
"Do you have anything to say?" He asked her with little patience.
"I'd like to know why Lillian did what she did."
"I don't know for certain. She would never tell me when I asked her."
"So, you knew about the will beforehand?" Louisa asked. She wasn't showing anger like Caroline had, but a detached attitude.
"Yes. I wasn't going to have anyone ruin her last Christmas." Charles looked into his sister's eyes; they were the same color as his. "You could have known too, if you would have spent more time with her. You live downtown, Louisa. You could have come to the house more than twice a year."
Louisa lowered her eyes and rested them on the door.
"I shouldn't have said that." Charles admitted. "It's too late now, anyway."
"Lillian always scared me."
"She shouldn't have. She was a good woman." His voice was as flat as Louisa's was.
The sound of a horn honking from outside interrupted their talk.
"Good-bye, Charles."
Charles watched her pick up her things and reach for the doorknob. He had a decision to make.
"Wait. I have something for you."
Louisa turned around and watched him take two large envelopes from a desk drawer. He handed her the one with her name written on it.
"Inside you will find the deed to one of the warehouses in Evanston. It is profitable at this time, and should generate a nice income for several years. The area around it is growing up with shopping malls, and in two years time, you might want to think about selling it. Keep a watch on the market, and for G-ds sake, don't let Her try to talk you into any scheme."
Louisa just looked at him.
"Also, you will not be paying any inheritance tax on your money, so the amount of money put into your account will be the full sum indicated in the will." Charles took a breath then continued. "There is a listing of the jewelry not included in the will that is in your box, and their appraisals. A typed letter with the history behind some of the pieces is in the envelope. Finally, the little cabin on Lake Michigan is yours. You'll find the keys enclosed."
Caroline was laying on the horn outside and Charles was holding tight to the other envelope in his hand. Louisa knew that everything he had given to her in her envelope was his. She wondered why he had done it, but in truth, she did not know Charles well enough to be able to judge his motives. For some reason he decided to even the score on his own.
With his jaw clinched, he shoved the other envelope toward her. It was the right thing for him to do.
"Don't give this to Her until she is boarding the plane for California tomorrow morning." Charles was firm in his instructions.
"I won't." Louisa reached out thinking she might hug him, but she could never remember doing so before. Instead she lightly touched his arm. "Thank you."
"You're always welcome in this house. I won't ask you to chose between your sister and me."
Louisa nodded and opened the door. She looked back once before she was out of his sight.
Louisa passed Jane still holding the vase while watching the open doorway. The two women exchanged brief glances as she left the house.
"Good-bye, Jane." She said over her shoulder.
"Good-bye, Louisa."
Chapter 20
After the front door was closed, Jane placed the vase back on the table and went over to lock it. The housekeeper had a key, and other than her, no one else was expected or wanted. She had no doubt that Charles was in no mood for guests, and she certainly wasn't.
Now that she had met Caroline, many of the questions she had before were answered. Jane had wondered why Lillian, who was bent on keeping the family together after Susan Bingley's death, had allowed the girls to go back to boarding school. Charles had told her it was because Louisa and Caroline were 'unmanageable', but Jane believed that was an understatement. It was obvious to her that he had had many years of practice dealing with them; hence the reason he asked her not to be present at the will reading today. He knew what to expect.
Walking into the living room, Jane looked up at the stairway and saw Charles upstairs leaning against the wall with his hands behind his head. He was watching her with a nondescript expression and had been since Louisa left the study. Jane climbed the stairs without taking her eyes off of him, and when she reached the top, she went over and stood right in front of him.
He didn't look upset or angry, but more like he was waiting for her to say something. Charles hated the fact that she heard him and Caroline during their rage. He didn't show that side of him to anyone but his sister. They were both experts at pushing each other's buttons and had been since he turned 14. That was the year he started to fight back full force.
Charles now realized that his belief that he would be able to contain himself like he did at Christmas was just a pipe dream. He had avoided numerous arguments with Caroline during the five days she was in the house, giving him a false confidence that he could pull it off one more time. Instead, the pent-up frustration fueled his anger and disgust directed toward her; making an ugly situation even uglier.
Jane raised her wrist and took note of the time. It was 10:50 a.m. She began to formulate a plan in her mind.
"It has been a long four days." Her voice was like a balm; soothing and clear.
"Yes." He responded seriously. He was exhausted, but not because he had gotten four hours of sleep the night before. It was emotion exhaustion. Other than a few hours after his grandmother's death, he had been dealing with people and plans ever since. Jane had done everything she could and it took a load off of his shoulders, but he was the person who made the phone calls saying the same phrase over and over. 'This is Charles Bingley--Lillian Bingley's grandson. I am calling to inform you that my grandmother passed away quietly in her sleep…' All of this had to be done before he had even had a chance to fully digest the fact that the woman he regarded as his mother was gone.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"
"No, I don't."
"Good. Would you bring some wood up to your room, and I'll gather us up some food. Let's put on our pajamas, lock the door, and watch mindless television in bed until we fall asleep." Her suggestion brought a slight smile to his face; it was perfect. How did Jane know? There was one issue he wanted to get out in the open before they hid themselves away.
"Will you clear the air first and tell me what you think? Just honesty."
"Yes." Jane gave him the honesty he requested. "Charles, your sister is the cruelest, most vindictive person I have ever met. I wasn't listening to your conversation, but her voice could cut through concrete, and I did hear some of what she was screaming. I don't know if I could forgive her for what she said if I was in your position."
"Would you think less of me if I said that I want to cut all ties with her? For good?" This was what Charles planned to do. He didn't see an alternative; there was never anything between them worth salvaging in the first place.
"No. You have a right to make that decision." She took his hands from behind his head and wrapped his arms around herself.
"I love you, Jane." He said as he leaned his head against hers.
"I do, too." She tilted her face up at him. "Let's make our escape before anyone finds us."
"A day's worth of wood? I think I can manage that." Placing a kiss on her forehead, he took her hand in his and they started down the stairs.
It's All In The Sales Pitch
Saturday
January 30th 1999
6 p.m.
After two weeks of training by Maria and Steven, Jane was beginning to get a handle on marketing and public relations. It was in her favor that she was a quick study. She listened, observed, took notes and absorbed the information they were throwing at her while keeping the pace they set. In many ways she had done duties at the hospital close to the ones she now performed, and she only had to change the focus. At night she brushed up on her computer skills and was determined to learn everything she could about the product Bennet Computers offered. Jane was one of those people who liked having an answer when someone asked her a question, whether it was part of her job or not.
Mary originally offered to help her, but after 20 minutes they realized that this might be the best situation. Mary knew too much, and Jane not enough. When she had a question at home, she turned to Chris, who had the patience to explain each step without getting aggravated like her sister.
The commute was killing Jane, and she was finding herself lacking the free time she wanted to spend with Charles. They both knew that she was going to be busy until she had a grasp on her job, but since the day of the will reading, they hadn't been able to spend much time together except on Sundays. Jane didn't begrudge Charles for having to work Saturdays and two nights a week to accommodate his patients, but the absence was making her edgy. They had yet to announce their engagement, although it was no longer a secret. Jane wore her ring everywhere except to church. She wasn't ready for her mother's excitement quite yet.
Jane was straightening her blazer in the mirror when she heard him knocking on the door. He was right on time for their customary Saturday night date.
"Do I know you?" She asked Charles while holding the door open only a crack.
Jane was in the mood to tease him; he knew it right away because she would squint her eyes a little as she did it. Charles followed her lead and broached a subject he had been thinking of on the way over tonight.
"No…but will you marry me on March 6th at 7 p.m. at the church of your choice. You get a free trip to Bermuda for taking the offer." Charles shoved a bouquet of flowers inside the door.
She was surprised to say the least, but not completely thrown off guard.
"That's a good sales pitch." Jane grinned as she eyed him from head to toe. "A free trip, huh?"
Charles shook his head.
"Well, I don't know. I get offers like this all of the time." Winking at him, her grin turned into a smile. "What makes your offer so different?"
March 6th would be a good date.
"One lucky winner in our random drawing gets a free extended warranty plan and service agreement."
"What does the service agreement cover? Never mind!" Laughing Jane took the flowers from him. "Will your product laugh at my terrible jokes, remember our anniversary without me having to circle it on a calendar, and tell me I'm the most intelligent woman in the world when I do something stupid?"
"I see you want the deluxe model, which I happened to have brought with me in the car. If you let me come in, I'll demonstrate it for you."
"I know all about you pushy salesmen…give me a minute. Church of my choice…free trip…the 'blind to your faults' model." Jane brought the flowers up to her nose and smelled them. "I can't turn this offer down. I'll meet you on March 6th at the Immaculate Conception Church in Naperville at 7 o'clock! Where do I sign?"
"That's the best part. You don't have to sign until one of our officials have given you a long, drawn out explanation of the terms at the church!" Charles winked back at her. They had set a date.
"Okay, you have a deal. I'll see you there and don't be late." Jane started to close the door, but he stuck his foot in the way.
"Ma'am, I don't get credit for the sale unless I give the demonstration." Charles took hold of her hand before looking down the hallway.
"Oh, I see one of your neighbors coming! Shall I do my demonstration right here? They may want to see it, too."
Charles tugged a little on her hand so she understood he was going to pull her out into the hall and kiss her in front of anyone whom happened to pass by. It was the quickest way for him to get in the door.
"You win!" Jane said under her breath before letting him in.
8:42
Jane and Charles joined William at a small table near the stage inside Mario's Restaurant. Elizabeth smiled at them from on-stage as she entertained the crowd with her song. Tony's band had invited her to sing with them again; something she had not done since returning from Memphis.
"You two are late." William said after they sat down.
"We had a demo..." Charles stopped when Jane squeezed his leg under the table.
"Traffic on the Ike." She smiled at William. He understood.
The three of them didn't talk while Elizabeth sang and played. This was Jane's first time seeing her sister perform in front of a crowd. She was so at ease up there--at times obviously forgetting strangers surrounded her when she closed her eyes and sang from her heart. Jane had to admire her for her courage, but that was Elizabeth--courage. There were still days when Jane thought about the years lost between her and her sister. The depth of her remorse was great for her part in the separation, especially when she realized how easily the closeness came back between them. The lesson was a costly one.
Jane turned her head and looked at Charles, wondering if he, too, would someday regret the separation from his sister. As much as it went against what she had been taught about forgiveness, she could justify his decision about Caroline. Jane knew there were people in the world that a person was better off never having contact with. They were the spiteful, angry individuals who were willing to forsake the rights of others for their own gain, without penitence or conscience.
She placed her left hand over his, and he wrapped his fingers around hers while watching Elizabeth. Jane could feel her scars from the past healing, and with every step she took forward, she opened herself up more to the man who sat beside her. It was odd, but she had complete trust and faith in him, even though he (like her) was imperfect.
Charles took life seriously without 'trying to appear' serious. He was intelligent but he did not quote essays to prove it, and he was strong without resorting to brutality or force to make a point.
If others viewed his understanding and patience as a weakness, then they did not fully know the man. For these were his greatest strengths, along with the unconditional love he exhibited for Jane. She had 'lived on the other side of the fence' for many years and now had a true appreciation for the depths in which gentle love could reach. Charles did not make demands on her, and in return did not want demands placed on him. Here is where he and Jane had a meeting of the minds. There is a difference between compromise and concession. They were willing to strike a balance, therefore the area in which they communicated and shared was a place of respect in which ego did not reign supreme.
A change in the tempo of Elizabeth's song brought Jane out of her introspection and her attention next went over to William. His eyes were fixed on her sister, and he did not notice Jane looking at him. William reminded her of a multi-sided faucet. Every time she thought she had his personality figured out, he displayed another side of himself causing her to rethink her latest theory. After she had observed him mingling last November, his friendly countenance left her with a belief the he was 'a nice guy'. But through further encounters she now saw him as a complicated person who carefully chose the face he allowed others to see.
She was intrigued by the fact that Elizabeth said he was writing a story. William writing! To see him in his business suit giving out orders, one would not think there was a creative undercurrent running through him. He didn't fit the stereotype and he didn't 'look' the part of a writer. But, William was just further proof to Jane that stereotypes were poor tools used in judgment.
After Lillian's funeral, the four of them had taken a break from cleaning to sit in the living room. Charles and Elizabeth carried most of the conversation, while Jane and William quietly listened. Later, when Charles was carrying in dishes to Elizabeth, William came over to Jane and thanked her for her all she had done to help his friend during the difficult time. He spoke briefly and compassionately, then went back to the cleaning of the house. It was during the exchange that Jane witnessed the loyalty Charles had told her William possessed, and her esteem for him rose another notch.
Three songs later her set was over and Elizabeth led everyone back to a booth in the dark room of Mario's. Once seated, Jane and Charles asked Elizabeth and William to stand up with them at their wedding. It was to be a small affair, and they would be the only people in the wedding party. As expected, they agreed right away with smiles and handshakes.
A celebratory dinner was ordered, and Elizabeth shared some important news of her own. She and William had recently decided to take a month off from work starting mid-March to travel. They had no set plans as to where they would go, but had agreed to be impulsive. Jane had to smile as she added yet another side to William's personality.
Elizabeth's second piece of news was music to Jane's ears. She would be returning to Bennet Computers full time at the end of April. Carl Banks was going to retire from the Sales department and she would be taking his place.
Jane knew she had made a good decision about joining the family business, and Elizabeth's announcement was further proof. Katt had already agreed to her father's request to spend the summer semester working downtown. Now, if Jane could convince Lydia to work part time for her after she completed her history class in summer school…
One Demon At A Time
Posted on Friday, 14 May 1999
Saturday
February 6th 1999
9:95 a.m.
Jane leaned over the edge of her treadmill with sweat dripping down her face.
3.4 miles. Not bad.
She stepped down with the intention of going to shower, but her weak legs almost gave out under her. Making her way slowly to the edge of her bed, she moved her 3lb. hand weights out of the way and sat down to take off her running shoes.
Jane had a feeling that she had overdone her workout today and vowed not to go another hour and a half again before eating breakfast. Her energy had been low lately and the new vitamin supplement she was taking was not working as well as she would have liked.
When she was finished showering and drying her hair, Jane wrapped her robe around her and went back into her bedroom to get dressed. She picked out her outfit for the day and as she was turning around to open her dresser drawer the reflection she caught in the mirror was different from any she had ever seen before.
All Jane could do was to stare because the panic she felt had rendered her helpless to move away.
Never in all of her life did she ever see herself the way she did at this very moment. There was no way she could call herself fat because there was none on her body. She continued to look at her reflection, noticing every rib and bone that bared themselves through her skin. Her muscles were smaller than they had ever been, and her skin tone had an unhealthy cast to it. Jane turned away from the mirror and stepped on the scale.
Oh, my G-d. What have I done?
It took all of the willpower she could muster for her to step back in front of the mirror. She remembered Mary's words in the dressing room at Saks, and she had on four more pounds back then.
But, Charles never said anything. I know he would have noticed if I was getting too thin. Maybe it isn't as bad as I think.
The closer she looked, the more she knew she was only fooling herself. She was close to being dangerously underweight for her 5'6" frame.
An Hour Later
Jane stood outside of Chris's apartment door with a bowl in one hand, and a full plastic bag in the other.
Chris opened the door and looked at her surprised. He had never seen Jane without makeup on before, let alone in sweats and a sweatshirt.
"Hello, Jane. Do you have a computer question?"
"No."
"Oh, what can I do for you?"
"Do you have any ice cream?"
"Ice cream?"
"Yes."
"Sure. Do you want some?"
"Please."
"Come on in. I have several flavors." Chris brought Jane into his kitchen. It was spotless except for some home-baked pies out. She put her plastic bag down on the counter while he opened his freezer.
"I have triple chocolate, cherry supreme, and vanilla. Which one would you like?"
"Vanilla would be fine. I just need a little." Jane handed him the bowl as he took the box out of the freezer. "I have brought you down some stuff to trade you for it."
"Jane!" He laughed. "You don't need to give me anything for it. Don't worry about it."
"Well, okay. I was just..." Jane eyed the pie he had out.
"Blueberry pie," he informed her, "it goes good with ice cream. Would you like some?"
"Maybe just a small piece." Chris held a knife over the pie.
"I don't think it would hurt you to have a whole slice." Chris saw Jane's face drop after he said his comment. "I didn't mean anything bad. Here, sit down and eat your ice cream." He pulled out a chair and went to get her a spoon as she sat down at his table.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. I went on a binge last night, my…my girlfriend broke up with me a few days ago."
"I'm sorry, Chris. It is her loss." A sympathetic smile crossed her lips.
"Well, 'loss' is the right word." He said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
Chris looked down at the table, embarrassed. "She told me to lose some weight because I was letting myself go, and she refused to stand around and watch me ruin my health."
"That was rude of her! You can do better, Chris."
"But she is right. I'm idle all day programming, and I don't get out much except to go to the grocery store."
"I don't care, who does she think she is telling you to lose weight like that?"
"Jane, that is easy for you to say. You're thin; therefore you're acceptable. Fat people get the shaft. We're treated like second class citizens, and people think they have the right to judge us because of it. When I go to get popcorn at the movies, people snicker and make comments. I bet that has never happened to you."
Jane lowered her eyes to her bowl. No, that never did happen to her.
"Still Chris, you can't let anyone tell you how to look."
"I know." Chris lowered his voice "But Jane, I can't deny that I'm not feeling the effect of carrying around all of this weight. I can hardly walk from my door to my car without loosing my breath. I'm tired all of the time, and feel lousy. Last month alone I gained 4lbs. I don't know when it's going to stop."
He sat the plate of pie he had made in front of her and sat down at the kitchen table
The pie is about 200 calories, and the ice cream is close to the same...
Jane took a deep breath as she stared at what was in front of her. It wasn't that she had a problem with eating it, but the calculations going through her mind were about to tell her how long she would have to exercise to burn the calories. This happened every time she ate something; the addition and subtraction, but she had done it for so long that it was second nature.
To her own benefit, Jane was wise enough to know that eating the dessert Chris had made her was not going to change her dilemma.
"Jane?" Chris had been observing her as she held the spoon over her dish. The concentration on her face concerned him.
"Sorry, I was lost for a moment." Jane decided to distract herself from her own problem by thinking about Chris's.
"Chris, I can help you if you want to loose weight. Obviously, I know…" she paused and reflected on a word she had just said. "Obviously."
He didn't say anything, but waited for her to continue.
"I have several pieces of exercise equipment in my spare room upstairs. If you want to use them, I'll be happy to show you how they work. I also can help you with a menu, and show you how to balance out your meals. We should get you to a doctor and dietitian first. If you feel like your health is suffering, it's time to do something about it."
"I agree."
"But don't you ever let anyone tell you how to look. You decide for yourself. People can be cruel with their ignorant opinions about outward appearances."
"You would help me?"
"Absolutely. It would be my pleasure."
"What can I do for you?"
Jane shook her head. She didn't think Chris's cooking was going to help her.
He pointed to the melting ice cream.
"Are you trying to gain weight?" Chris realized that he was going out on a limb with his question, but his intuition told him that she was having some problems.
"I've… I'm getting too thin. But I'm not sure what to do about it."
"Isn't your fiancé a Doctor?"
3:30 p.m.
Jane stood outside of Charles office door for almost five minutes before she made her decision to knock on the closed door. She hadn't been totally convinced that she wanted to talk to him about this when she drove out to Elgin. There was a good chance that either she was making too much out of nothing, or that she could very well take care of it herself by exercising less and eating more. After all, she didn't have the problem some people had with anorexia or bulimia, she was just thin. Just thin.
And since she realized it this morning, she hadn't been able to pass a mirror without staring at herself.
Jane knocked.
"Come in," Charles took his finger off of the tape recorder he was using to transcribe notes with, and looked up.
"Jane! What brings you out here…" He stopped when he saw her expression. He recalled the last time she was in his office; she wore it then, too.
"Hello." Jane tried her best to sound normal as she sat in a chair in front of his desk. She didn't want to raise any suspicions on his part just in case she changed her mind at the last minute. Jane smiled at him and then started looking at the pictures on the wall.
Charles waited patiently and didn't press her.
"Can I ask you a question? It's nothing all that important, I was just curious about your opinion." It was easier for her to speak to him about this while focusing on the wall, so she did.
"Sure. Ask away." It was Dr. Bingley who spoke from behind the desk, not Charles.
"Well, Mary said something to me back around Christmas time about my…" Jane couldn't play her game anymore. She couldn't even make it through the first real sentence.
Why can't I just talk to him about it like I do about everything else? Other than the fact that we have both been through a lot of changes lately, and we don't need a new problem in our lives. I am so sick of something being 'wrong' all of the time. I can't see myself dumping this in his lap, on top of everything else. If we could only have peace for a while, then maybe…
Charles got up from his chair and went over to kneel beside her. By the way she as acting, he deduced that something personal was bothering her. When she turned and looked at him, she didn't see judgment or worry on his face, only understanding. Jane took a deep breath and began to talk in a whisper
"Charles, am I too thin?"
"You're thin, yes." The depth of her question dawned on him immediately. "Do you try to be that way?"
Jane shook her head yes.
"Do you think you let yourself get too thin?" Although they seemed simple, his words were carefully chosen.
"Yes."
Charles did not change his expression while he wondered how he could have missed it. She didn't show any signs of having an eating disorder, so he needed to find out what she was doing that he didn't have knowledge of.
"Would you like to tell me about it so we could figure out what can be done?"
"Yes. I'm sorry to be..." She didn't finish her sentence.
"No, Jane. Don't be sorry. This is not unconquerable; we can handle it."
In an atmosphere where Jane felt like (and was) a participant instead of a patient, she began to tell him a story that started many years ago. Hers was a situation that would not be solved in one day with a single talk, but over a longer period of time.
But, as Charles said, it was not unconquerable.
Chapter 21 ~ Jane ~ Conclusion
Monday
February 15 1999
9:12 a.m.
Jane stood at the window in Steven's office looking at the people traveling on the sidewalk below. Today would be the first management meeting in which she would be representing her department. Maria would be in the room, but silent as Jane presented her weekly progress report.
Steven has a great view. She thought to herself as she waited for him to end a phone call so she could talk to him. If Jane would have had access to a crystal ball and a talented Gypsy, she might have known that one day in the future; sooner than anyone could have predicted, this would be her office and her view.
It would be Jane who would take the company to heights her father, Elizabeth, and Steven had not imagined possible. It would be Jane who would successfully break into the personal computer market, Jane who would have to fire three quality control managers until she found one who understood the meaning of the word 'quality'. She would be the one responsible for moving the company out of their downtown headquarters and into a more efficient, cost-effective location. She who would argue with venders, reassure customers, and woo potential clients on the telephone while sitting behind the large oak desk in the center of this room nursing her first born. Jane would install a day care center for the employees of her company, support her husband while he fought the state legislators for better child protection laws, and open up her home four days a month to other Frank Lloyd Wright enthusiasts.
The woman who for most of her life did not use her own voice, would someday take the bull by the horns, kick him in the gut, wrestle him to the ground, and put her foot triumphal on his head as she searched for bigger and better challenges.
But, for today, Jane simply looked out the window and admired the view. Her time was coming.
Steven hung up the phone and pivoted his chair around to face Jane.
"I have an idea." She said to him with a self-confident smile on her face.
The beginning of Justice
10.02 a.m.
Same day.
Eric Homman could feel it. Something was in the air. He didn't know exactly what it was, but as he finished off his fourth cup of coffee, he realized that it wasn't the caffeine that had his nerves on edge. Five minutes later he would have an answer as Illinois State Police officers entered his office with a search-and-seizure order.
What happened next was a blur. An officer was reading him his rights, but Eric was not being arrested. They were there to secure his records, and he was informed that the same was happening at his residence, bank, and accountant. The officer could have been reciting Dr. Seuss for all Eric cared because he was not listening.
His mind was focused a petite, neatly dressed, dark haired woman who had entered the room behind the others. She had a look of confidence on her delicate face, and justice in her eyes as she met his gaze. At that moment Eric Homman realized that he had met his match. This woman would have the power to destroy him.
Without saying a word, Jimmy picked up an empty box and went over to his file cabinets. She knew what she was looking for.
Charles
Friday
February 19th 1999
4:25 p.m.
"We keep busy at our house. Garrett was in Jymboree classes, but has since moved up to gymnastics. He's always been an athletic little boy. Then he had his preschool class three days a week for four hours. Have you heard of The Colbert Academy?" An anxious, uptight young mother asked.
"No." Charles responded.
The woman made a surprised expression and then went on the describe the prestigious institution in full detail, right down to the classes offered in the 3 to 4 year old range. She was really quite astonished that Dr. Bingley had never heard of it. Everyone knew it was 'the place' to send your child for the head start they would need to compete in school.
"He had just started his Chinese course. The Colbert Academy has a unique approach to language. They start the children out young in immersion studies. During the entire half-hour allotted, the instructor only speaks Chinese. They believe that this is the best way for the children to learn. I have to agree. When Garrett was two, we did the classical music study, and followed the recommended outline at home for the development of his neurons…."
Charles was hearing every word the woman was saying, but he was numb. This over achiever of a mother was pushing her child to be just like her. When she had sat down in his office twenty minutes ago, her chief concern was finding a solution as to why her three and a half year old son was wetting the bed. He had been potty trained since before he was two, but had recently regressed. She read three books on the subject, did her research on the web, and implemented the suggestions…but Garrett still wet the bed. Granted, she had just taken his pacifier away at night and she thought that may have something to do with her son's problem, but when she gave it back to him, he still did not wake up dry.
He listened as she droned on and on about the merits of his preschool, justifying the cost to him by listing the benefits her child was receiving one by one. Charles wondered if she had Garrett's pacifier in her purse; he might need it if she continued to talk for much longer.
"…We do the classic book read each Wednesday at the library, and he is taking painting lessons from a friend of mine. My husband suggested we buy him his own computer to play his educational games on, but I really think he is too young right now. Maybe for his next birthday." When she stopped to draw breath, Charles broke in.
"Mrs. Banks, on average how much free time does your son have each day?"
"Plenty, I think. He plays in his sandbox when the weather is nice. Of course, right now he cannot go outside, so I give him his legos while I make dinner."
"So, he is allowed to play freely for a period of time each day?"
"Yes, usually while I am making dinner. I recently purchased the 'Hooked on Phonics' tapes for him to watch during this time, but he isn't showing any interest in them."
"I have a recommendation for an approach I would like for you to try. It may sound radical at first, but if you follow it exactly, you should see results."
For the next ten minutes, Charles bartered with the woman until he had her talked into agreeing to give his suggestion a two week trail. Garrett's life was about to become simplified. She wouldn't give up the preschool (since that would put him so far behind his classmates), but she would temporarily drop the other enriching activities she was shoving down her son's throat.
As soon as Mrs. Banks left his office, Charles dialed Jane's number at work.
"Hello?"
"Talk me off of the ledge, Jane. Talk me off the ledge."
"Bad day?" Jane chuckled as she closed the door to her office.
"Oh, yeah. My last two appointments were a hypochondriac and an over achiever. The children were fine. The problem was the parents." Charles let out a breath. "How much longer is left on my contract with this place?"
"Nine months."
"Nine months…I can make it nine months. I'm seriously thinking of getting out of private practice all together and going back to working with Social Services. It may take some time to find the right position near home, but I'm willing to wait for it."
"Do what makes you happy and don't worry about it. I'm making the big bucks now! I'll support you while you find yourself a job."
Charles laughed at her statement. This conversation was exactly what he needed.
"Okay, close your eyes and I'll do some of the creative visualization you taught me." Jane waited a few seconds. "Are they closed?"
"Yes."
"Picture us on the white sand of Bermuda. The water is gently lapping onto the shore and there isn't a cloud in sight as the sun warms our skin. There are some sort of tropical birds overhead making…bird noises. I'm laying on a lounge chair since I don't like sand in my swimsuit."
"Are you wearing the swimsuit I liked? The gold one?"
"Yes." She answered in a sultry tone.
"Good!" Charles was thankful he had taught her this technique. "What am I doing?"
"You're rubbing suntan oil on my legs."
"I'd be good at that job."
"There isn't a soul around but us, and....oh, wait. The cabana boy is coming toward me. Raul is his name and he has just finished taking a swim. Mmmm."
"The cabana boy?" He didn't need a cabana boy mucking up his mental picture.
"The cabana boy!"
"This sounds more like your fantasy! You're supposed to be helping me."
"Shhhh, Charles. I'm visualizing." Jane teased. "Okay, where was I? The cabana boy is coming, but he's only bringing me a pillow. You shoo him away so we can have the beach to ourselves."
"That's better."
"I thought you'd like that. Now, you'll have to finish the rest on your own. I have a meeting in ten minutes."
"Are you coming over tonight?"
"Yes, I have another load to bring from the apartment." Jane had been bringing essentials over to his house a load at a time. Since the company was paying her moving expenses, she decided to store her things in her apartment until the lease was up. Right now there were too many things happening on at once, and she didn't want to think about what she was going to do with all of her furniture.
"If you don't see me when you get there, I'll be clearing you out a room in the basement."
"Bye, dear. I'll see you soon."
"Good-bye."
Familiar.
From Chapter 7: Why did her mere nearness feel so familiar?
He thought about the fact that he still had his hands on the face of a woman he barely knew, and yet it did not strike him as being forward.
From Chapter 9: It was always there...an undercurrent of need and familiarity. Neither could really explain what was happening to them, but at times it felt as if they had been waiting for each other for one hundred years.
Jane had been in the basement of the home before, but she had never gone through the entire area. It was not what most would think of when they pictured a typical basement. It was entirely finished with rooms and a hallway. Charles had told her that the previous owners used many of the quarters as guest residences.
"Charles?"
He came out of one of the doorways and asked her to join him in the room he was working in.
Jane's curiosity got the better of her as she went down the hallway and she opened a few of the doors. The first was full of nondescript boxes and crates. She didn't see anything that caught her attention, and moved on to the next door. There was a long, deep scratch by the door handle, and Jane could have sworn she had seen it somewhere before. Turning the knob until she heard the 'click' of the latch, Jane slowly opened the door.
An involuntary gasp came from her mouth, and her eyes began to water as recognition set in. Jane had dreamed of this room before. Several times.
Charles waited for her and when she didn't come to him, he went out looking for her. He saw her standing in the doorway of that room and called her name, but Jane didn't move or acknowledge his voice.
Approaching her from the side, he put his hand on her arm, startling her out of her reverie.
"Don't do that!" Jane snapped. "You scared me." She had been in deep concentration trying to unravel the mystery before her, and hadn't heard him speaking her name.
"Jane, what is it?"
She redirected her energy to the area, carefully taking in every detail. Jane wasn't trying to be dramatic; she just wanted to be certain before she said anything. The wainscoting on the wall behind the bed triggered a flash of memory, and she knew she might be able to validate her suspicions if it turned out to be true.
Jane went over to the right hand side of the wall and began to run her hands up and down the wooden planks. Something about the location didn't seem right, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to find what she was looking for there. Eyeing the bed pushed up against the opposite corner, she took hold of the bedpost and moved it away from the wall so she could get behind it. Once again she repeated her prior actions until her hand stopped on a ridge. Calling over her shoulder, she asked Charles to turn on the light so she could see better.
He did as she asked and then went over and moved the bed even further away so she had more room to work. Charles had no idea what it was that she was searching for, but the intense look on her face told him she was on a mission.
Using her fingertips, she traced a one-foot square cut out of the wainscoting. Try as she might, the wood was too tight and she could not get it to budge. This was when Charles stepped forward and knelt down beside her. Taking both of his hands, he applied pressure on the sides of the square, about 6 inches down until a 'pop' sound was heard.
"Hidden compartment." He explained to a surprised Jane. "They're all over this house, although I didn't know this room had one."
Taking the door away, they both looked into the cut out area behind it. There was nothing inside.
Disappointed, Jane stood up and went over to sit on the bed to think while he replaced the cover. The DreamWeaver had a fresh enigma before her.
"How did you know?" Charles asked her as he brushed the dust off of his pants.
"Would you believe that I have dreamt about this room since I was a child?" Jane looked up to see his reaction. He stopped dusting off his pants and sat beside her.
"Did you see it in a book when you were young?" His knowledge of the published works on the home was extensive, yet he could not remember anything ever being written up on the basement. All of the owners of the house had wanted it that way because of the safe located down here.
"No. I began having the dream when I was six years old. It wasn't until my family moved to Chicago that I knew Frank Lloyd Wright existed."
"But, in your dream you knew where the hidden compartment was?" Charles was intrigued, not only because she was having the same dream for so long, or that she knew information about the house, but because he had also dreamt about this room. Several times.
"That is only a small part of it. The dream is actually about a couple who lived in this room." His eyes went wide at her statement. Surely not…surely it was not possible. No, Charles did not think he believed in such things. It must be some sort of fluke that Jane had just said what she did. The chances were slim that they both… No.
But, he needed to find out.
"Jane, tell me about your dream." He asked seriously. It was obvious Charles was not humoring her, so Jane began to tell the story.
"Well, judging by the clothes worn in it, it takes place in the late 30's or early 40's. Every time I have the dream I take on the role of the woman. She is a brunette of about average height and weight. Sometimes when I dream about her, it is in this room, other times she is in a large home that over the years I have been led to believe is in Eastern Europe. One thing that is always consistent no matter where the location is, she is with the man in all of them."
So far there wasn't anything out of the ordinary about the beginning her tale, and she had been able to calmly relate the details to him without hesitancy. What she was about to tell him next was not necessarily sensational, but she did not like reliving it.
"Charles, this dream ends emotionally. There have been a few times when I have had lucid dreams about this woman and experienced what happened to her as IF I was her. If you're just mildly curious, I'd prefer not to go on."
"Please, continue if you can." He didn't want to cause pain for Jane, but...
"She loved the man more than I would be able to adequately describe. He was her life, and I mean this literally; she lived and breathed him. The woman made him a promise…
"…Not to die before him." Charles finished the sentence for her, and the hair on Jane's arms stood up.
"Yes!" They both stared at each other; unsure about what to do with the fact he had just recited. "How did you know?"
"Tell me more." He whispered.
"There was one time in particular when I actually felt her love for him. She had just given him the news that they were going to have a baby. They were in this room, on this bed… It was beautiful. She loved him."
"Are you sure it was this bed?" If she said yes, then he was personally aquatinted with the love scene she was referring to. He would even be able to tell her what was said between the two people.
"Yes." Jane pointed to the headboard with a shaky finger. "It had the fairy carved on the back of it, and they were talking about the fairies keeping watch over them."
It was the same conversation.
"What became of the woman?" Charles already knew.
Jane closed her eyes to remember.
"She was standing in the doorway; sweating and feverish. It was nighttime and the man was asleep in bed. She called to him several time before he woke up. The pain was excruciating," Jane took Charles' hand and placed it over her uterus. "Coming from this area..."
"It was a tubal pregnancy."
"Yes." Jane acknowledged. "She knew she had lost the baby."
"What happened next?"
"The man came over and carried her to the bed. She begged him to stay and hold her hand, but he had to go call for help. This was when she knew she was going to die, and she began to apologize to him. The man was distraught…"
"…He didn't want to leave her. He called for help, but no one could hear him from the basement. What surely was only one minute seemed like an hour, and he had no choice but to leave her alone. Why did she get out of bed while he was gone? He never understood and blamed himself for her death. If he had not left her side…."
"…No, it was already too late. She knew it was her time to die. The reason she got up was that she didn't want to die in the bed that he slept in."
"Where did she die?"
Jane pointed to a corner at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, G-d." Charles got up from the bed and started to pace the room. "You're right."
"What happened to the man?" Her dreams always stopped with the death of the woman, and for years her unanswered questions about him weighed heavy on her mind.
Should he tell Jane the truth? That he died not three years later a broken man? That the man never got over Zoya, even when he tried, and he slowly destroyed his own life in an effort to be with her? Charles knew the woman in the dream would have been grieved to know what happened to her husband. It would have broken her heart to know he did it to himself.
"He did not survive long after her death. I...He couldn't go on."
They were both silent for a long time, lost in the world their words had just created.
"Jane, do you know their names?"
"I could never catch her name, but I know his. Do you?"
"I know them both." Charles thought for a moment. "I have an idea. I'll be right back."
Charles went into another room and came back with two pieces and paper and pens.
"Write down the name and then we'll exchange pages."
When they were done, they each looked at the other's paper.
Vladimir was written on both.
…And Finally
Saturday
March 6th 1999
6:40 p.m.
Elizabeth stepped out of the bride's dressing room and into the hall. They still had twenty minutes before the wedding was to begin, and Jane asked for a little time alone. She walked up to the sanctuary doors and spied William, calling him over to her.
"How is everything out here?" She asked, smiling about how handsome he looked in his black tuxedo.
"Running smooth. I think Jane and Charles invited even fewer people than Mary and Steven. I'm doubling as an underused usher."
"How's the Groom?" Elizabeth asked while straightening the rose on his lapel.
"Remarkably calm. He's over talking to his grandparents and sister."
"Which sister?" Please, please don't let it be the nasty one.
William read her mind and knew she was referring to Caroline.
"No, not her! The oldest sister, Louisa. How's the Bride?"
"Remarkably calm, too." Elizabeth lifted her bouquet to show him her stash of Kleenex. "But I'm prepared."
"You always are." William ran his finger under the St. Christopher's medal she had worn every day since he had given it to her. He had been thinking about marriage himself lately, but Jane and Charles's announcement stopped him from taking action for the moment. William didn't want to take away from the importance of their time.
The opening of the church door brought his attention back to his duty. Frederick, his sister and brother in law entered, and William escorted Sophie to a pew while Frederick stayed behind to talk to Elizabeth.
"You look very nice, Elizabeth."
"Thank you, Frederick. You do, too. Are you prepared to see your 'Cousin Jane' get married?"
"I couldn't be happier for her. At Mary's wedding, I speculated who would be the next to get married. Little did I know that I was sitting next to her!" His warm smile touched Elizabeth. Every time she saw him, he changed a little more and always for the better.
"Would you like a sneak peek at her? She's in a room by herself, but I think she would welcome a visit from you." Elizabeth understood that Frederick and Jane shared something special, and there was a good chance Jane wouldn't mind the interruption.
"I would like that." Frederick turned around and Elizabeth noticed the biggest change of all.
"Where are your leg braces?" He still had the canes, but the metal braces were missing.
"You noticed." Frederick lifted a leg of his pants and showed her the slimmer, leather binds wrapped around his bare leg. "These may be on for a while, but they are a definite improvement."
"Congratulations, Frederick! Jane is going to be so excited when she sees you."
"The canes will be the next to go." He leaned in over toward her. "Maybe by your wedding?"
Elizabeth let out a laugh at his hushed statement.
"Did Mama pay you to say that?"
"I, Charles Gregory, take you Alexandra Jane Olivia, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."
Charles pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Jane.
"I love you." He said loud enough for only her to hear.
Through her tears she smiled up at him.
"I love you, too." Jane dabbed her eyes and handed it back to him.
"It's your turn, Jane." The priest moved to face her.
"I, Alexandra Jane Olivia, take you Charles Gregory, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."
…I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. What God has joined together, may no man put out asunder.
Impressions
10:00 p.m.
Charles stood away from the crowd and watched the scene before him. The three-piece orchestra he had hired filled his and Jane's home with a soft, romantic music in the form of a melody he recognized, but could not name. It had been difficult for him to locate a group who would be willing to play danceable music, but the manager at what Jane now referred to as "The Romantic Restaurant" gave him the name of this group.
Jane was in the middle of the living room, dancing with her cousin Frederick. She looked like a princess in her cream colored gown, and the candles that lit the home reflected her beauty outward.
"You look so happy, Jane. I don't feel like I can congratulate you enough."
"Frederick, come closer, I want to tell you something." Frederick lowered his ear to her face. "It's worth it. The risk, it's worth it. Please, give yourself another chance before it is too late."
Frederick moved his head back and gazed seriously at his cousin. Her heartfelt advice shook him to the core. It was a risk.
"Please, think about what I just said. You do not see yourself like others do. Frederick, you are a very good man, and you have earned happiness."
Frederick pulled Jane close to him and gave her a hug.
"Thank you." He murmured.
Charles had a feeling Jane said something important to her cousin by the way Frederick was behaving. He smiled at his wife, then looked over at his sister.
"Oh, pardon me." Louisa said to the man she had just bumped into. He bent down to pick up the car keys he had dropped. Louisa noticed his key chain.
"No, it was my fault." Henry Hurst said graciously back at her. She was a pretty woman, and he decided to introduce himself.
"Henry Hurst, a friend of the groom." He extended his hand and Louisa shook it.
"Louisa Bingley, sister of the groom." She made a pleasant face. "It is nice to meet you. How do you know my brother?"
"I worked with Charles in Detroit. It's nice to meet you, too."
They shared small talk for a few minutes.
"Louisa, I'm going to get something to drink, would you like something?"
"Yes." She went with him over the bar area.
"Louisa?"
"I'll have a coke."
"Make that two cokes, please." Henry ordered.
Louisa decided to ask him about his key chain.
"How long have you been sober? I saw your AA medallion."
Henry smiled widely. He was always happy to talk about his sobriety, and was unashamed about the past.
"Five years and three months." He said proudly.
"Three weeks for me." She admitted shyly to him.
"That's wonderful!" Henry handed her a coke. "Louisa, would you like to dance? I'd like to hear all about your last three weeks."
"Thank you, Henry."
Charles watched Henry lead his sister to the floor to dance. Henry led the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings at Charles's former workplace, and Charles had met him when he sent one of his young patients to the group. Henry had taken the boy under his wing, and at last count, the boy had been clean and sober for almost two years.
A quiet laugh caught his attention, and Charles turned his head to see Katt and Chris talking.
"Seven pounds in a month! Oh, Chris, good for you!" Katt patted him on the shoulder.
"Jane has been helping me a lot and she gave me her rowing machine. But, that piece of equipment is a killer. I also have a doctor who is supportive."
"Chris, you're going to feel so good soon! I'm happy for you."
"Thanks, Catherine. So, tell me about your summer..."
Lydia came barreling up to them, interrupting their conversation.
"Pffttt! Everyone here is old like Jane. What are you two doing?"
Katt and Chris exchanged amused glances.
"We were talking about this summer." Chris informed Lydia while she twisted her mouth and looked at the dance floor.
"Oh, that sounds nice." She looked at him. "Chris, would you want to dance?"
Once again Katt and Chris exchanged amused glances.
"Sure, Lydia." He watched her as she walked off--ready to dance now.
"I'll be back."
"Have fun." Katt grinned.
Charles observed Lydia trying to manipulate Chris to get him to dance like she wanted. When she finally gave up and allowed Chris to lead, they moved smoothly to the music. He chuckled to himself.
When the song was over, Charles' eyes followed Jane as she took a wrap from a coat rack, winked at him, and slipped out the back door. He followed her.
Jane waited for him on the back patio where no one would be able to see them from the windows. She opened up her arms when he came near, and they held each other under the stars as the orchestra began to play 'Dream A Little Dream Of Me'. So far had they come together from the first time they had met, and so much further they would go with each other.
3 Years 10 Months Later.
"Push! 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..10."
Jane fell back on the hospital bed as the doctor praised her efforts. She had been pushing for almost two hours and she could not go on anymore. In a state of emotional and physical exhaustion, Jane started to cry.
"Jane, you are doing so good." It was tearing Charles up to see her suffering like she was. "Honey, I swear you are close. It should only be a few more pushes."
"You said that an hour ago. Can't you just take it out?" She pleaded. "Please?"
Charles kissed her brow and looked at the doctor.
"The head is right here." The doctor answered as she rubbed her eyes on her shoulder. It had been a long labor. "I can try the forceps."
"Do it. She can't take anymore." Charles turned back to his wife, wiping her face with a dry towel. "It won't be long now."
Jane nodded her head in understanding and closed her eyes. She could hear the doctor take the wrapper off of the tool she was going to use. She opened one eye to see what was happening and the glint off of the metal instrument reflected its light at her.
Big tongs. She is going to use big tongs to get my baby out.
"WAIT!" She took hold of Charles's hand and focused on his face. "Are those going to hurt the baby?"
"No. It might bruise the baby's head or leave a few marks, but nothing lasting."
"One more try." Jane stopped crying and gathered what little motivation she had left..
"Okay." Charles admiration for his wife's bravery grew as he locked eyes with her and placed his free arm behind her back to support her. They were a team.
"Whenever you are ready, Jane." The doctor waited to begin counting.
Taking a deep breath, Jane leaned forward and pushed.
"1..2..3..4..5..6..STOP! The head is out!" The doctor quickly suctioned the nasal passages and mouth. "I'm ready. One more push but not too hard."
Jane had another push in her and a baby was born.
"It's a boy!" The doctor felt like cheering. She wasn't sure this little lady was going to make it…but she did.
Jane and Charles beamed at each other. They didn't want to know the sex of the baby until HE was born.
"You did it, Jane! You did it! We have a son!" He could not contain his joy, and neither could the new mother.
"Charles, do you want to cut the cord?" The doctor asked. Of course he did! Charles waited as the doctor placed a clip on the cord close to his baby's belly. This was the first real look he had gotten at his baby, and he was amazing.
"Go to it." The doctor instructed when she saw the expression on Charles face.
As soon as he cut the cord, the tears began to fall. The nurse handed Charles a warm blanket, and he wrapped his little boy up tight so he wouldn't get chilled; touching his tiny fingers and toes in the process. The baby graced his father with a yawn when Charles placed a little blue stocking cap on his head, and they were prepared to make the journey to the other end of the hospital bed. Bringing the sweet baby up to his lips, Charles kissed him twice, and took him to meet his mother.
"Here you are, Alexander. This is your mama." Charles wiped a tear that had fallen on Alexander's cheek before placing him in Jane's arms.
The first of their three children was born on a cold January night. He was bald, red faced, and scowling, but he was the most beautiful baby in the world.
Thirty-five minutes later Charles wheeled Jane and Alexander out of the delivery room. Waiting in the hallway was most of their family.
Mr. Bennet smiled proudly at the fact that he had another healthy grandson.
Mrs. Bennet wept uncontrollably, but no one noticed.
Mary was there, grinning from ear to ear.
Elizabeth, who was holding her own 2-month-old son, Trevor, handed him to William so she could get a closer look at her new nephew.
The younger sisters and their husbands stayed to the back, allowing the others space until it was their turn to meet the latest addition to the family.
And finally, Louisa and her husband Henry came forward and congratulated her brother.
Jane didn't have to say much because the contented look on her face said it all. As the people she loved most surrounded her, she thanked God for blessing her more than she could have ever have dreamed of.
Life was very, very good.
Done!