Even after the office door had closed behind them, Harold gazed at Marian with a detached expression. Obviously, he was not inclined to make things easy for her in the slightest. Marian had carefully thought over what she wanted to say to her husband, but she hadn't realized how difficult it would be to deliver her loving words to a stone-faced man. Her resolve quailed, and she latched onto a much easier topic of conversation.
"So apparently, Teddy and Elly are making cow's eyes at each other," she said wistfully. "Seems like just yesterday our daughters were still learning how to walk – it's hard to believe they're growing up!"
Harold blinked, and she saw a flash of irritation in his eyes. With a pang, Marian realized she had lost her chance. But before she could think of how best to recapture her husband's attention, his expression turned inscrutable and, sitting down at his desk, he replied, "Indeed – children will do that."
Though his dismissal further dampened her sagging spirits, Marian tried again. "The girls missed you last night, Harold."
She thought she saw his shoulders hunch slightly. But when he spoke, it was with his usual casual ease. "So they told me," he concurred, seemingly engrossed in his work.
Once again, Marian lost her nerve. "I'm planning on trying my hand at chicken croquettes for dinner," she said brightly. "Ethel gave me the recipe this afternoon – she told me how much you liked them."
"How nice of her," Harold said absently, shuffling some papers.
Marian repressed a sigh – she was going to have to do a lot better than that if she wanted to gain her husband's forgiveness! "Penny and Elly weren't the only ones who missed you last night," she confessed, her voice quavering slightly as she allowed remorse to color her words. "I missed you, too."
Harold paused in his actions, and for a brief moment hope kindled in her heart. But that flame was quickly snuffed out when her husband set his shoulders squarely forward and resumed what he was doing.
Marian's pride got the better of her. "Harold, look at me," she commanded in the same no-nonsense tone she used to scold the twins.
Harold whirled around to face her, frustration and annoyance etched deeply into his face. It was such an abrupt departure from his reserved demeanor that her eyes widened and she took a small step back. "Forgive me, Harold," she said contritely, "I didn't mean to speak so sharply – "
But he didn't soften a single iota. "What do you want, Marian?" he asked baldly. "I'm busy right now, and you don't appear to have anything important to say. I'm not in the mood to engage in meaningless small talk, so either stop this incessant beating around the bush and get to your point, or leave me in peace!"
Marian's first impulse was to issue a scathing retort and depart his office but, for the sake of her unborn child, she quelled it. Still, struggling with her own hurt feelings, she didn't bother to soften her expression, or let happiness enter her voice as she bluntly replied, "Harold, I'm pregnant."
The papers Harold had been holding fell to the floor. As her husband goggled at her, Marian felt the perverse urge to laugh. During her first pregnancy, she had gone to such lengths to surprise him – only to discover he was already aware of her condition. Now, when she was completely and utterly straightforward about the matter, he was more shocked than she had ever seen him.
But as the seconds lengthened into minutes and Harold continued to stare speechlessly at her, looking like he didn't know whether he should be pleased or appalled by her news, Marian's amusement abated and she felt a lump form in her throat. She had informed him of her condition and, silver-tongued charmer though he was, he could find absolutely nothing to say in response – not even an insincere, "Congratulations."
As she started to tremble beneath his relentless gaze, Marian felt a resurgence of pride; she refused to stand there, her sense of vulnerability openly displayed before a man who no longer seemed capable of being tender with his wife. It was time for her to go. "Well, I suppose I should leave you alone now," she said softly, unable to conceal her disappointment at his underwhelming reaction. "I'm sure you're eager to get back to work – "
But as Marian started to turn away, Harold rose from his chair and pulled her into his arms. "Marian," he said with a voice full of pained remorse, and held her close.
He said no more than that. He didn't have to. In that one word, Marian heard the old love and longing, and her heart beat faster; perhaps she hadn't lost her husband, after all. With a sense of exhilarated relief, she nestled into Harold's embrace and let him comfort her with his soothing caresses. "Oh, Harold," she cried, "I know we agreed to have only two children, and for very good reasons. But I've always wished we could have more children together." She smiled, even as she felt herself well up with tears. "I've always hoped for the chance to give you a son… "
Overcome by a wave of dizziness – whether it was caused by her condition or heightened emotional state, she couldn't determine – Marian swayed in her husband's arms. Harold immediately tightened his grip and guided her to the nearby sofa before she swooned. Once she was safely seated, he retrieved a pitcher of water from his desk and poured her a glass.
"Thank you, Harold," Marian said gratefully. Having spent a good part of the day dealing with nausea and nervousness, she hadn't eaten or drank anything since breakfast.
As Marian slowly sipped her water, Harold took a seat next to her and watched her with concerned eyes. "How long have you been aware of your condition?"
"I've suspected this was the case for quite some time now," she admitted. "I haven't had my monthly courses since the beginning of May."
"I had wondered about that," Harold said, the stunned awe creeping back into his expression. "But pregnancy wasn't the first idea I had… "
Marian gazed at her husband with apologetic eyes. "I would have told you sooner, but I wanted to wait until Dr. Pyne confirmed my condition. And that didn't happen until earlier this afternoon." She paused. "I hope you're not too disappointed about this."
"Disappointed?" he exclaimed in an incredulous voice, as though he couldn't fathom how she could arrive at such a preposterous conclusion. "I said it the first time you were pregnant, and I'll say it again now: How could you think I'd be anything but overjoyed? There are few pleasures in life greater than being a father to our girls, and I've always wished we could have had more children, too. But I knew it wouldn't be wise; the last thing I wanted to do was leave you a widow with a large brood to care for." Discarding the remainder of his reserve, Harold reached out and took Marian's hands in his. "Any children we're blessed with, I'll wholeheartedly welcome – because they're our children, darling, conceived out of our love for each other," he said fervently, bringing her hands to his lips and bestowing tender kisses on her fingers.
The disconcerting sense of apprehension and shame that had been festering in Marian's heart and spoiling her joy fully dissipated and, once again, tears began to stream down her cheeks. "Oh, Harold… "
Harold sighed and lowered her hands, and Marian felt guilty for having misjudged his feelings on the matter. But before she could reassure him she had not gone so far as to doubt his devotion to her or their marriage, he quelled his chagrined expression – as he had so often during the past few months when she had let him down – and gave her a regretful smile. "I suppose I can't blame you for being uncertain," he allowed. "I'm not the most predictable husband a woman could have." He sighed again. "If I've added to your burdens in the past few months – and I know I have – I'm truly sorry for it."
Now that Harold was just as eager to make amends, Marian could have accepted his apology and closed the subject. But she had taken the easy way out for the past three months; it was time they talked things through. Giving her husband's hands a friendly squeeze, she said sincerely, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Harold – I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am; I truly am. Which brings me to the other reason I came to visit you today."
Harold gave her a lopsided grin that was laced with uncertainty. "What, do you have even more life-changing news for me?" he asked, attempting to make a joke.
Though she felt anything but lighthearted, Marian smiled at her husband. "Not today, darling. I want to talk about Paris."
Once again, Harold's countenance became a model of devil-may-care indifference. "Oh? What about Paris?" he asked, his voice carefully casual.
"I've been thinking a lot about my behavior over the past few months – not just in Paris, but when we returned to River City," she said, also making sure to keep her tone level. Harold immediately opened his mouth, as if to tell her it wasn't necessary to say anything more on the subject, but she pressed forward. "Please, Harold – I need to say these things. Last night, remember how you told me you loved me more than you did twelve years ago, and I said I wanted you just as much as I ever have?"
Harold nodded slightly, looking like he hardly dared breathe. Something like hope stirred in his eyes, but he sat mute and still, as if he was terrified of doing something that would break the tenuous spell of the moment.
"Well, in truth, I want you more." Now it was Marian who raised hands to lips for gentle kisses. "There is hardly a moment when we're together that I'm not anticipating you twining your arms around me… kissing me… making love to me. The reason I behaved the way I did that day in the train – and in Paris – is because I was tired of keeping those feelings bottled up. For the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to love you without restraint, so I did."
She paused for a moment to gauge her husband's reaction. Harold's eyes had fluttered shut and his head had tilted back as, captivated, he allowed her words and caresses to wash over him like a soothing balm. As if he sensed a resurgence of reticence on her part, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon hers, his avid expression a silent entreaty for her to continue.
After some hesitation – she was just about to reach the most difficult part of what she wanted to say – Marian went on, "And what I discovered in Paris frightened me. I never realized just how far I was willing to go to assuage my passion, not just in public, but in private as well. In Paris, that wasn't an issue. But in River City, there are too many eyes watching a woman. Knowing that I couldn't love you the way I did in Paris, I tried to return to our staid but comfortable lovemaking. But – I don't want that, Harold." She swallowed nervously. "I know I've been doing a poor job of loving you since we returned home – "
Harold interrupted her. "Marian, you're doing the best you can," he said firmly. "I know that; I've always known that. Believe me when I say that I've felt like such an ingrate during the past few months, asking you for more than you were able to give."
"You're a passionate man," Marian said understandingly, "and I am capable of loving you a whole lot better than I have been, as I clearly demonstrated in Paris." She sighed wistfully. "I may never have the skill of the sadder-but-wiser girl, but I needn't pretend I'm still a blushing rose."
Harold let out an incredulous laugh and tightened his grip on her hands. "Oh darling! Do you really imagine I still think fondly of such women? Let me tell you once and for all that the sadder-but-wiser girl went out of my head the moment I acknowledged I was in love with you! I didn't marry you despite the fact you weren't that type of girl, but because you weren't. I wanted you, Marian. Not a woman who would make love to me with as much cold, unfeeling skill as I made love to her." He sought her eyes with his, and she was astounded to see a mischievous twinkle in his gaze. "And besides, you seriously underrate your talents in that arena, darling."
Feeling self conscious and pleased all at once, Marian gazed at her husband with a tentative smile. "I do?"
Harold nodded and, for the first time since they had fought the night before, he gave her a genuine, unabashed grin. "You know, even back when you were a blushing rose, I thought you had a natural talent for lovemaking," he said in his low, velvety voice.
Marian's smile grew more confident as she shamelessly soaked up her husband's flattery. "Well, if that's the case, why didn't you tell me before?" she asked archly.
"I thought perhaps it might sound too crass, or remind you of certain realities about my prior experience that you weren't ready to acknowledge," he replied honestly, growing serious once more. "Marian, there's more to lovemaking than proficiency in mechanics – and that comes with experience. What you have can't be learned: an open heart and a passionate spirit. You loved me with such unpretentious, honest desire that it made me wonder why I had been wasting my time with mere lust. No woman has ever loved me as well or as generously as you." Harold's expression turned pensive, as if he was considering saying more, but then he lapsed into silence.
Marian's smile faded. "But then there was Paris," she said matter-of-factly.
"Paris, indeed," Harold concurred, his face aglow with nostalgia. "Paris was something else entirely. Earlier, you mentioned being free to love me without restraint – it was the same for me. For the first time in our marriage, I could fully let myself go in your arms. Before, there was always that element of self-control, of making sure I didn't frighten you with the intensity of my desire. But in Paris, we were equals; we could love each other as equals." He paused, and dismay crept back into his expression. "I wanted to continue loving you like that when we got home. But then you withdrew, and I wondered if perhaps you regretted your behavior – "
Marian wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him close. "Harold, Paris was one of the happiest times of my life," she said, looking him steadily in the eyes. "And I would do anything to recapture that happiness."
Normally, Harold would have given her a wicked grin and asked, "Anything?" in a bawdy voice, but he simply stared at her with the same shock as he had on that day on the train. Though they had never been averse to stealing a few moments together in his office when the opportunity presented itself – and more than a few of these clandestine embraces were quite heated – they had never completely abandoned propriety.
Marian sighed with good-natured exasperation – trust her unpredictable husband not to seize the opportunity when she granted him permission to take what liberties he pleased! But she supposed she couldn't blame Harold for his incredulity; after all, he knew just how empty mere words could prove. There had been enough talking; it was time for her to demonstrate her commitment to renewing their ardor. So without further ado, Marian tightened her embrace around her husband's neck and claimed his mouth with a kiss that was tender but still passionate enough to show him that she meant business.
Even though Harold unhesitatingly responded to her kiss and relaxed into her arms, he did not seem inclined to press forward with his usual passionate urgency. Marian wondered if perhaps she had misjudged the situation; perhaps even after their long discussion and her bold actions, Harold still wasn't ready to accept her overtures. Even though a part of her had expected this possibility, she couldn't contain her disappointment. Putting a quick stop to things, she said contritely, "I think I ought go home and check on the girls. I've taken up enough of your time this afternoon – "
But as Marian started to rise from the sofa, Harold pulled her into a fierce hug. "Marian, please don't think I don't want this as much as you do," he entreated. Cradling her head in his hands, he tilted it back so he could look at her, and she saw the warring emotions in his eyes. "It's just – I've been doing some thinking, too. As you've repeatedly reminded me over the past three months, we're not in Paris anymore. I would do well to remember that – "
They were interrupted by a knock at the office door. Harold exchanged a look with Marian, and she knew he was thinking the same thing: Who was seeking out Professor Hill, at this hour?
As Marian retrieved her hat, which had tumbled to the floor when Harold pulled her into his embrace, her husband smoothed the wrinkles out of his suit-coat. After arranging his features into a more composed expression, he cleared his throat and called out, "Come in."
The door swung open, and Marian and Harold turned to see Penny and Elly standing on the threshold, gazing at their parents with uncharacteristically timid expressions.
Harold spoke first. "Penny. Elly. What are you doing here?" Even though he had not used their full names, his voice held an element of warning.
"I forgot my math book," Penny explained, a guilty look in her eyes. "I can't practice my multiplication tables without my math book."
"Well, you could have shared your sister's math book," Harold pointed out.
Penny crumpled. "Dad, I swear we did go straight home, like you told us. But on the way, we heard people talking about how Mother was sick and the library was closed. So we went home even faster, but no one was there. We couldn't concentrate – we had to find out what happened. We looked everywhere – except the Candy Kitchen, because you told us we couldn't go there – but no one knew anything." Penny glanced at Marian. "It wasn't until we saw Teddy Washburn on his way to the Candy Kitchen that we found out you were here."
As Marian and Harold exchanged a slightly amused look, Elly spoke up. "Now that we've found you, Mother, we'll go home and practice our multiplication tables, just like Dad told us to," she promised, her meek expression a poignant plea that they be spared from further punishment. Taking her sister's hand, Elly began to pull her away.
"Penny – Elly," Harold called out in a gentle voice. As they turned back around, he slid off the couch and knelt on the floor, opening his arms to his daughters.
The girls eagerly ran to their father's embrace, just like they used to when they were little girls. "Dad, are you going to leave us?" Penny asked, sniffling.
Harold and Marian exchanged another look – this time, their expressions were shocked and dismayed. "Of course not," he replied in a firm but reassuring voice. "Where did you get such an awful idea?"
"Jenny Granger's dad up and left her family last year," Elly said sadly. "Then her mom went out and got a divorce so he could never come back." A sob made her pause for a moment and, when she resumed speaking, her voice was so quiet she was barely audible. "We thought maybe that's where you went, Mom… "
Marian's heart ached at the image of her poor, worried daughters searching all over town for their missing mother and thinking the worst – a frank chat with Amaryllis was in order, and soon. "I'm so sorry I frightened you like that, girls," she said earnestly, reaching over to give their blonde curls a motherly caress. "I was ill this morning, but I'm feeling much better now. And I would never divorce your father – ever."
"And I'm never going to leave you, or your mother," Harold added, tightening his arms around his daughters. "As I've told you before, adults get into fights just like children. That doesn't mean your mother and I don't love each other anymore. I love your mother very much." His eyes sought Marian's. "If it wasn't for her, my life would be a lonely, miserable existence."
"But you've been fighting a lot, lately," Elly said with the blunt honesty of a child. "Jenny said her parents fought like cats and dogs before her father left."
Harold shook his head. "That was a completely different situation. Mr. Granger made some bad decisions and, in the end, he decided to put his own selfish wishes above the welfare of his family. While it is true that your mother and I have been fighting a bit more often than usual, it wasn't over problems that couldn't eventually be worked out. Sometimes even the best of marriages go through rough patches."
Though Elly looked reassured, Penny still seemed skeptical that things had taken a turn for the better. "If you and Mom still love each other, when are you coming home, Dad?" she asked in a forlorn voice.
"In a few hours," he promised, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. "After all, I've got to drill you on your multiplication tables."
Penny smiled, and the usual expression of charming confidence resurfaced on her countenance. "If we get them all right, can we go to the Candy Kitchen to celebrate?" she ventured hopefully.
"Yes, can we please?" Elly echoed. "As a family outing, of course," she demurely amended, shooting a glance at her mother.
Harold chuckled and waggled a finger at his audacious daughters. "Don't think you can get off that easily, my little darlings. Tell you what – if you get top marks on your next two math tests in a row, your mother and I will take you out for sundaes and strawberry phosphates."
After making this announcement, Harold glanced at his wife, and Marian gave him an approving smile. It was a fair compromise, as it allowed him to back down from his perhaps too-harsh stance without losing face. Truth be told, she was rather impressed with his solution – especially when she saw the twins' reactions.
Though this still meant they wouldn't be able to go to their beloved Candy Kitchen for at least two weeks, the girls brightened. "Thanks, Dad!" Penny said gratefully. This time, she was the one to grab her sister's hand and pull her out of the office. "Come on, Elly, there's no time to waste!"
"Wait a minute, girls," Marian said impulsively. "I'll come with you."
As Penny and Elly dutifully halted to wait for their mother, she went and retrieved Penny's math book, which had indeed been lying on Harold's desk. Then she approached her husband, who gave her a questioning look.
But Marian simply smiled and, resting her hand lightly on Harold's shoulder, she leaned in and gently kissed him on the lips. "See you at home for dinner, darling," she said gaily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to behave this way.
Once again, Harold stared at her with stunned eyes. She hadn't kissed him in front of the girls in several years – citing the need to cultivate an example of proper decorum, the only affection Marian ever bestowed upon him while they were in the presence of their daughters was the brief, occasional handclasp.
But as always, he recovered beautifully. "I'll look forward to those chicken croquettes you mentioned earlier," Harold said with a grin.
Her cheeks slightly pink, Marian faced Penny and Elly – and saw they were blissfully unaware of the significance of what had transpired, as they had taken the opportunity the pause afforded them to begin drilling each other on their multiplication tables.
With a smirk, she turned back to look at Harold, whose eyes were also twinkling with amusement. But as they gazed at each other, their expressions grew solemn with longing and, even though it was already early evening, Marian reflected that the time she could finally be alone with her husband suddenly seemed a long way off.
Harold smiled wistfully at his wife. "Till tonight," he whispered. The girls, who were still chattering merrily away, didn't even twitch.
For the second time that day, a brilliant idea popped into Marian's head. But she did not immediately reveal her plans – though she gave her husband a sly, secret smile in return. "Till tonight," she softly agreed. Turning her attention to her daughters, Marian said in a louder voice, "Let's go, girls. Your father has a lot of work to complete before dinnertime… "
