An Unexpected Miracle--Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The picture of Mari in her wedding dress was prominently placed on Joe’s desk, making it very hard to miss.  It taunted him every time his eyes fell on it.  She had been so incredibly beautiful that day, so alive and radiant, so happy.  Memories of that day crowded his mind, as clear as if it had taken place yesterday, not ten years ago.  He could remember how damp his palms had been as he watched her almost float down the aisle.  When he accepted the small, soft hand from her uncle Andrew, he felt as if he were receiving a most precious gift.  There could be no luckier man on the planet to have someone so wonderful love him.  That was one of the reasons he had kept his family history hidden.  Mari had come from a loving family, with much love shared between them.  The thought of Mari thinking less of him, of ending their relationship, because of his dysfunctional family kept him silent during their courtship and after their marriage. 

As the years passed, it became harder and harder to tell her.  Mari had seemed content with their family of two.  He did not want to upset the balance by bringing up what he considered the distant past.  Always in the back of his mind was the thought of what could happen.  What if Mari decided to follow in his mother’s footsteps?  What if she became so discontented with the fact that he could not give her children that she turned to another man?

Isn’t that what happened? a voice in his head insisted.  She’s having someone else’s baby.  Joe’s hands fisted, and his jaw clenched.  He did not understand why Mari had turned away from him.  Unlike his mother, Mari had seemed happy in their relationship. 
Even up to the time he had left for Houston in April, their relationship had been a loving one.  There had not been much conflict in their marriage, which for Joe was a good thing, considering how much he hated confrontation of any kind.  The only issue in their marriage that had not really been resolved was the matter of adoption.  Joe had stubbornly refused to budge on his stance of no adoption.  It was one of the only things Mari had not pushed him on and now he wondered why.  Had she let the adoption issue drop because she was making her own plans?  Pastor Nolan made a good point.  Mari was thirty-four this year.  Why wait so long?

Joe swiveled his chair around to look out his office window.  Another beautiful fall day, one that he normally would have been spending with his wife.  This separation was almost killing him.  He missed her so much, missed touching her, talking to her, just being in the same room with her.  Spending time with her at the wedding last night had left him with an ache in his heart and a desire to make an effort to return to his relationship with his wife. 

Until that phone call this morning Joe had felt almost optimistic about their future together, had begun to feel like he could make himself believe her claim that the baby was his.  Hearing that male voice on the end of the line brought back all the occasions when he had answered the phone as a youngster and an unknown man asked for his mother.  Being a kid, he never thought much about it at the time, but the whole situation had blown up in his face later.  Joe often wondered if mentioning the phone calls to his mother would have made a difference in how everything had turned out.

No answer to that one, Joe thought as he pushed himself up from the chair.  His long legs ate up the carpet as he paced the room.  He played the phone call over in his head.  So brief, so innocuous.  So condemning.  A man had called their home.  That in itself was nothing unusual.  They had a wide range of friends, male and female, who often called.  Both of them received work related calls at home.  It was possible the call was completely innocent.  The fact the voice had been unfamiliar bothered him immensely.  His agitation grew the more he thought about it until he could no longer stand it. Grabbing his coat and briefcase, he strode purposefully out of the office.  For once he would not back down from confrontation.  He would confront his wife now, make her understand just how much her betrayal cut.

He practiced what he planned to say on the twenty minute drive home.  He only hoped Mari would be there.  Courage in confrontation was never his strong suit.  As he turned onto his street Joe saw a man exiting his house, Mari following, smiling at him.  She handed him something as he walked down the porch steps.  Mari turned back into the house as the young man got into a car parked on the street and drove away.  Joe pulled into the drive, tires nearly squealing, then surged out of the car, slamming the door.  He pounded up the front steps and into the house.  Throwing open the front door, he stormed into the kitchen where Mari was sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar, a mug cradled in her hands.

“You are just like my mother.” 

Joe’s words were hissed in a voice so radically different from anything Mari had ever heard before that she reared back in shock.  His eyes blazed blue fire down at her as he stood above her.  His breathing came in ragged breaths.

“What’s wrong, Joe,” Mari cried, sliding off the stool and backing away from him.  She had never seen him like this before and she was frightened.

“You are just like her,” he repeated in a voice laced with pain and anger.  “Why am I not good enough for you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“My mother decided she wanted another child and when my father couldn’t produce she went out and found someone who could.  Is that what you did?  Decide that since I couldn’t give you what you wanted you’d just go out and get it for yourself?”

Gripping fear gave way to anger and this time Mari did nothing to stop the rising storm.  Feet spread, body rigid, she faced her irate husband.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  You told me your parents died ages ago and that you were an only child.  And you accuse me of lying.” She snorted.  “That’s rich, Joe.”

“Yeah, I lied,” he shouted.  “My parents divorced when I was ten.  My mother was pregnant with another man’s child.  She wanted another child so much she gave up everything to get it and ended up losing it all.  My dad left.  It was her fault.  So I quit talking to her and when I hit eighteen I left.  I left her to her drink and misery and made a life for myself.  I never spoke to her again.  She died several years ago of cancer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?  I’m your wife, Joe.  We’re supposed to share the good and the bad, past and present.”

“Would you have married me knowing what a screwed up family I came from?”

“Of course I would have married you!  I did marry you.  I married you despite the fact that you struggle with words.  I married you even though you don’t always tell me what the problem is.  I married you knowing I would never have the children I dreamed of having.”

“How noble of you!” he bit out.  “You married me knowing I couldn’t give you kids.  So, being the intelligent woman you are, you went out and solved that little problem by yourself.”

Mari bit her lip, holding back a scream of pure frustration.  “No,” she said biting out each word.  “You solved that problem.  You, Joe.  Your sperm, my egg, our baby.”

Joe’s body went rigid at her words and his eyes sparked with anger.  “That cannot be my baby,” he spat.  “I cannot have children.”  He faced her fully and looked down at her with contempt.  “You are just like my mother.”  He turned stiffly and walked out of the kitchen.

Mari could hear him stalking up the stairs then the guest bedroom door slam.  She sank to the floor, her whole body shaking.  Tears dripped down her cheeks.  This whole situation was so much worse than she could ever have imagined.  Not only did she have to fight through Joe’s unbelief about being about to father children, she had to fight his past as well.  And she just did not know if she was up to the challenge.

A long time later Mari dragged herself up from the floor and went upstairs.  She eyed the guest room door with sadness.  Joe was locked in there, locked with the ghosts of his past and his anger at the present.  Too tired to even think about talking to him now, Mari slipped into the master bedroom and sank down on the bed.  Why had he not told her about his parents while they were dating, she wondered.  A shaft of pain pierced her heart at the thought of what he had gone through as a child. 

“Help him, Lord,” she prayed quietly.  “He hurts so much.”

She wondered what had pushed Joe to finally tell her about his parents.  What had set him off?  Certainly nothing she had said.  They had not really spoken since last night, since she did not count Joe’s strange behavior this morning to be actual speaking.  The only other possibility was Greg’s nephew being at the house, but that did not make any sense.  Joe had met Barry last summer at a barbeque at Greg and Marla’s.  Could it be possible Joe did not remember him and thought Barry was her lover?  That was ridiculous.  He was nineteen years old, for goodness sake.

Shaking her head, Mari gave up.  She was physically and emotionally drained.  There was no way she would be able to make any sense of today’s outburst without some rest.  Lying down, she pulled up the comforter and fell in a deep, but troubled sleep.