He met her at a bar in college. His friends had dragged him there, telling him he was too straight-laced and boring. No more studying, let's have some fun for once!
She'd marched up to his booth alone, with a bit of alcohol on her breath, and bravely told him "I think you're gorgeous". A gaggle of girls at the bar were watching her ravenously, and immediately laughed at her embarrassment. She turned bright red and fled.
Everyone clapped him on the back and threatened him with abuse if he didn't go talk to her, so he reluctantly did, though the prospect of talking to a strange tipsy female made his palms sweat.
The girl's friends tittered and cooed as he approached. She hid her face in her hands when she saw him.
"Hi there, handsome!" "She lost a bet, so we dared her to go talk to the cutest guy in the whole bar. Lucky you!" they told him.
He didn't know what to do with his hands. He put them in his pockets. "Hi," he said softly to the embarrassed girl.
"I'm so sorry," she hissed under her breath, too low for her friends to hear. "I'm not normally like this. I hate bars, I don't come to these places very often…"
"Me neither," he admitted. And with a smoothness he didn't know he was capable of, he added, "Do you want to get out of here?"
She smiled gratefully.
They went on a walk, which turned into dinner, which turned into a movie, which turned into his first kiss.
His hair was a tangled mess underneath her hands. She wanted to undo the stiff collar of his dress shirt, wanted to finally see the skin underneath.
He broke the kiss, his face adorable and shy and only a little bit terrified. "I, I don't know if we…" He stammered.
"Shh," she replied, mind completely clouded by desire.
He gently took her hands in his, stilling the fingers that were working on the buttons on his chest. "Wait."
She could've sworn she had never been so disappointed in her life. He looked so serious and determined, and for a split second she wondered if he was mad at her.
"Look, I don't know if this is really the right time to say this, but will you… Will you you marry me?"
She stared at him, her eyes as round as saucers. And then she laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, of course I'll marry you!"
A huge grin spread across his face. "Oh thank God. That's great. That's just great. I'm sorry I don't have a ring, I wasn't really planning on… "
She leaned into his ear to whisper, "But I don't want to wait that long."
He gaped at her until understanding dawned on him, and then he became even more adorably shy.
Her fingers went back to work on taking his shirt off, and this time he didn't try to stop her at all.
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound… "
He watched her from the door. He could barely see her in the darkness of the nursery. He leaned his head on the door jamb and closed his eyes, certain that he hadn't slept for more than one or two hours straight in weeks.
"I once was lost, but now am found… "
But right now the baby was quiet for once, and he drank in the moment. The slight catch in his wife's voice. Her gentle sway around the room, the loving embrace of her arms around the fidgety little bundle.
"Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved…"
And suddenly he felt so utterly grateful for his lot.
"Darling," he murmured, "why don't you go to bed? I'll take over."
She slowly passed the baby into his arms, her movements even more exhausted than his. "Oh, thank you. I don't know how much longer I can stay awake."
"I love you," he told her with more certainty than he'd ever felt.
"Love you too," she yawned absently. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek before leaving.
He looked down at the child's beautiful face, and thanked heaven for her existence.
He picked up the song where his wife had left off. His voice sounded low and reverent in the stillness of the night.
" When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise,
Than when we first begun…"
"Tsi ken!"
They both looked at the baby, stunned into silence.
"Tsi ken!" their daughter repeated loudly, flinging a spoonful of mashed peas onto the floor.
"Did she just say chicken?" He asked her.
"I think so."
He shook his head, absolutely crestfallen. "But first words are supposed to be mama, or hi, or ball. Not chicken!"
She laughed at the utter confusion on his face. "Well, I guess our kid hasn't been reading the same parenting books as us."
He picked up the baby and desperately told her, "Say dada. Say da… da. Come on, honey."
"TSI KEN!"
"Why didn't you tell me?" he snapped.
"Not in front of the kid," was all she said.
"Honey," he told the four year old as patiently as he could, "why don't you go play in your bedroom? Mommy and I need to talk about grown up things."
His daughter obeyed immediately, more than happy not to get in between this fight. She grabbed her plush rabbit and ran.
"How come I've never heard of him?" he yelled. He knew it sounded like an accusation. He knew he was being unreasonable.
But he couldn't help the creeping jealousy. She'd always had him completely, the way no one else did, and it hurt to know she'd once belonged to someone else.
She threw up her hands. "I was with him for a year! ONE goddamn year! And I married you, didn't I?" She was right, of course she was right.
"Then why did you need to hide it from me?" he pressed on without any attempt at rationality.
"Because I knew you would be like this! Nothing is happening between us anymore, I don't know why you're being so unreasonable…"
Through the window, he watched his daughter excitedly leave with the young boy, suspicion etched in every line of his face. "She looks like you," he commented grimly. "She'll be beautiful when she grows up." He made it sound like a terrible thing, but she tried to take it as a compliment.
"Sweetheart, stop worrying so much," she said pragmatically, twirling her pencil over her crossword puzzle.
"Are you sure I shouldn't give him the 'you hurt my daughter and I'll kill you' speech?" he sighed dejectedly.
She swatted his arm affectionately. "For crying out loud, you can't do that to a boy in fifth grade!"
"But what if he doesn't treat her right? What if he's secretly a drug dealer or something?"
"Oh please, he's ten years old and we met him at church."
"Drug dealers go to church too," he growled darkly.
He brooded into his coffee for all of ten minutes before she managed to rope him into helping her with her crosswords. Soon he was studiously poring over a dictionary, the boy forgotten.
"Regiment?"
"Mmm, no, it doesn't fit."
She wouldn't break down. She had to stay strong. Stay strong. For now she needed to call her mother, she needed to pack their things…
Her daughter trudged into the room, face covered in tears, sobbing violently in a way she hadn't done since she was seven years old and broken her ankle in a biking accident.
"What's wrong, honey?" she asked wearily.
"Daddy's gone!" the girl managed to choke out. "Daddy's gone, I don't know what happened… "
"What?" she caressed her blonde hair soothingly, mentally cursing him for making their child cry like this. "Claire, what did he say to you?"
"He was outside, he looked at me and he said… He said he wasn't my father. He changed into someone else, mom!"
She felt her blood freeze over.
The front door banged loudly behind her. She burst into the empty suburban street.
Her husband was no where in sight.
"Jimmy? JIMMY!" she screamed until her throat was raw. No answer came.