Thank you so much to each and every one of you who has taken the time to offer feedback on this story. I absolutely adore each and every one of your reviews and love the ideas and thoughts you have on where things might go next (some eerily close to plans I already have.) I'm sorry this is late. Life has been a bit hectic and the site was wonky last weekend. This chapter also ended up being a bit more angsty than intended. It's not what I had intended for this chapter, but it's what I ended up writing. I hope you like.
Pick Up on Aisle 10: Chapter 8
Alone in the vehicle on his way back to his house, Frank twisted his wedding ring, his mind drifting back to his late wife.
Mary Margaret Conor.
It had been love at first sight. It was his sophomore year of high school when he had first laid eyes on her. Her red hair had caught his eye in the hallway. Less than a week later, they were going steady. When he had proposed, he had no doubt of her answer.
Their wedding had been one of the happiest days of his life. He had gazed into her eyes, promising her the rest of his life. They had shared dreams of a family.
Children. Grandchildren.
Growing old together.
If it had ever crossed his mind that that might not happen, his assumption was that he would be the one missing. It had never occurred to him that he would be the one left to live out his days alone.
Cancer. The word still made his stomach clench.
It had taken his mother, he wasn't going to let it take his wife as well.
In the end, though, he had no say in the matter. She had fought.
Fought hard.
Medication. Chemotherapy. Radiation.
None of it helped. He had watched, powerlessly, as she wasted away.
In the end, it won, and a beautiful, kind, loving soul was taken from earth.
From her family.
From him.
It still hurt. After all this time, he still missed her.
When he got back to the house, he grabbed a bottle and glass and made his way to the living room. He set them on his side table, then wandered over to a bookshelf lined with family pictures. He picked up a framed picture of himself and Mary and settled into his chair.
He had just poured himself a drink when Henry came into the room.
"You're back."
"No. Not yet. I should be back in a few minutes."
His father glared at him for a moment, then went to get himself a glass.
"I guess you got your girl home safely."
"Yeah. Lucy is home. I guess I should let her know that I'm home now, too," he replied, picking up his phone and sending off a text."
Henry stood studying him.
"Everything okay, son?"
"Fine, Pops."
"She didn't outright turn you down, did she?"
"No, Pops. She specifically told me that she wasn't saying no."
"And?"
"I walked her to her door. She thanked me for going with her. For the ride. For dinner."
"And?"
"And I kissed her good-night, told her to lock up, and came home."
"None of that explains that contemplative look on your face," Henry explained, moving to his chair. As he reached for the bottle to fill his glass, he noticed the picture in Frank's hand.
He sighed. "But that does."
"Our last trip to the mountains, just before she found out…"
"About the cancer," his father finished.
"Yeah."
It was silent for several minutes while both men sipped at their drinks, thoughts on what had been lost.
"Are you having second thoughts about marrying Lucy?" Henry finally asked.
After a beat, Frank shook his head.
"No. Not really. I do think it's the right thing to do. That it's the best thing for the kids. And for us. I like her. I enjoy spending time with her."
"But?"
"But I still feel like I'm cheating on Mary."
"It's not like Lucy is the first woman you've been with since she's been gone," Henry reminded him.
"I know."
"Did you feel like you were cheating with any of the others?"
"Sort of?"
"Are you asking or telling?"
"I don't know. This one just feels…different."
"Why? Because you're actually interested in this one?"
"Any woman I've been with I've been interested in to some degree. It's not like I just hop into bed with anyone."
"But Lucy is different from the others. I've noticed the last few days when you talk to her or about her. You're more comfortable. Happier."
The younger man smiled, remembering the steamy good night kiss he had shared with her at her front door, then shook his head.
"We've talked before," Frank reminded him. "About taking off the ring." He held up his hand, showing his father that his wedding band was still in place.
"And you said that you hadn't met another one that you couldn't live without," Henry replied. "And that hasn't changed."
Frank took another drink. "No. I can live without her. But I don't think that I really want to. I don't want to live without my children." He turned to the older man. "And I can see myself with Lucy. Do you think that's good enough?"
"It can be. If you're both determined to make it work."
"We are."
"Even if the worst were to happen?"
"Even if. We agree that this would be a lifetime commitment."
"That's a good start, anyway."
The room fell silent again as both men continued in their thoughts.
"Seems like I remember something else about that conversation," Henry commented.
"Oh?"
"Something about Mary making you promise to find someone else? Even gave you a list of candidates?"
"Actually, the promise was that I wouldn't be alone," Frank corrected. "And I haven't been. With you and the kids and the grandkids, I always have people around."
"You know that's not what she meant, son."
"Lucy wasn't on the list."
Henry snorted. "I'll bet she would have been, if they had known each other at the time."
"You do?"
"I think Mary would have liked her."
"Maybe."
"She's smart. Funny. Big-hearted. Tough. All qualities that Mary admired in a person."
"True."
"And you wouldn't have gotten her pregnant."
"No, that definitely wouldn't have happened."
Henry laughed. "Maybe this happened because you didn't keep your promise to Mary. Forcing your hand, so to speak."
"Kevin said something similar when I talked to him the other day," Frank commented.
"You've spoken to the Archbishop about all this?"
"Well, it does seem like a conversation to have with one's spiritual advisor."
"And you had told him about your conversation with Mary?"
The younger man shook his head. "No, not that specifically. It was more along the lines of God's plan. That with the odds against the whole situation, against the pregnancy even happening, that there is a reason for this child to exist. For it to be in my life."
"Can't argue with that," his father agreed.
Another silence fell. Finally, Frank spoke again.
"I guess some part of me had just decided that I would finish out my days as a widower. That I would wear Mary's ring for the rest of my life. I was in the car on the way back when it hit me. If I'm serious about marrying Lucy, it's time to take it off."
"Just because it's time doesn't mean it's going to be easy to do," Henry said. "You could always wait for her to say 'yes.'"
"I could, but…"
They finished their drinks in silence.
"Another?" Henry asked.
"No, thanks, Pops. Probably best I turn in for the night."
"Likewise."
After cleaning up, the two said their good-nights and headed to their rooms.
Frank changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, then walked over to stand in front of his dresser. He looked at the family pictures scattered across the surface.
Older pictures. His parents. His wedding picture. Him and Mary with young children.
More recent photos. Graduation pictures. Wedding pictures.
The grandkids.
Most, still here. Some, gone.
Growth and change.
Such was life.
Soon, another grandchild would be joining the family.
And more children.
It was time.
"I'll always love you," he whispered, looking at his wedding picture as he slipped his wedding band off. He opened his jewelry box and reverently set the ring in an empty compartment before turning out his light and slipping into his bed.
His thumb worried the now bare spot on his finger, much like a tongue finding the empty space a tooth once occupied.
Lucy had closed and locked the door, as Frank had told her, set the alarm, then pulled the curtain back and watched him drive away. She touched her fingertips to her mouth, lips still tingling from the kiss they had shared.
She smiled at the memory, then caught sight of herself in a mirror by the door. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed.
The man was an excellent kisser.
He was excellent at other things as well, she recalled, her mind going back to the night that started it all.
The pictures on her mantlepiece caught her attention and she sighed.
"What have I gotten myself into, Oscar? You always teased me about being so cautious about things, so determined to think about everything before making up my mind about things. Always telling me to listen to my feelings for once and just go for it."
She crossed over to stand in front of the photos.
"And I did and look where it got me. Pregnant with twins and seriously considering marrying a man that I barely know."
Another smile crossed her face.
"But he's a good man. United States Marine turned NYPD cop. Just like you. He's strong and tough, but still kind and gentle. He's smart and easy to talk to. I told him things about myself that I've never told anyone but you. He's very protective of his family. From the way he talks about his kids, I think he's a really good father. And I want that for these kids."
She moved to the sofa, finding herself overwhelmed with exhaustion. Breathing deeply, she was starkly aware of how silent and empty her house was.
Usually, she enjoyed the order and the quiet after a hectic day in the emergency room.
Usually.
Spending the evening with Francis and Henry in a home where she could feel the love and the memories made her realize how much more there could be.
And she wanted that for her children.
And for herself, selfish as that sounded.
And it was really nice not to have to worry about fixing dinner and cleaning up afterwards. She could actually relax for a bit, then go to bed.
Again. Selfish.
Very unfair to two very nice men.
Sighing, she reached over and picked up her Bible from the side table. It had always served her well when it came to finding answers to her questions and making difficult decisions.
After a quick prayer for guidance, she opened it, prepared to seek out some of her favorite verses. Instead, she paused and started reading.
"Two are better than one,
Because they have a good return for their labor.
If either of them falls down,
One can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves."
Lucy snorted.
Talk about getting answers.
Sort of.
Because it still felt wrong. Like she was taking advantage of the Reagans. Accepting from them and offering nothing in return.
Her childhood had been filled with admonitions to earn her keep. Some of her earliest memories were of being yelled at to clean up. Fetching her father his drinks. Collecting the empties and taking them to the trash.
Responsibilities had grown as she had, and she had tried her best to fulfill them, though she realized now that their expectations were probably not reasonable for a child of her age.
Every time she was moved to a new foster home, her caseworker had reminded her to be sure to take care of chores around the house. She cooked and cleaned, always living in fear of being sent away if she didn't do it well enough, fear of, once again, being handed a trash bag and told to pack up her things for the next home.
Even the times she spent in the Church home, the Sisters were strong supporters of instilling a work ethic.
'Idle hands are the devil's workshop,' was repeated to them time and again.
Oscar had been the first person ever to tell her to slow down. To take time to enjoy herself. To let others do for her.
They had met during one of the times she was at St Anne's between foster placements. She was a young teen, he was a couple of years older. His uncle, his guardian at the time, had been arrested on drug charges again and the young man had been returned to the home.
He started calling her 'Busy Bee' due to her incessant need to always be doing something and had taken it upon himself to teach her to relax and to have fun.
They managed to keep in touch through various placements, one of the Sisters passing letters back and forth for them, and eventually, the two had fallen in love.
He had joined the Marines after graduating high school and his skills with a rifle had earned him a spot with an elite team. Long stretches of his time were spent in places he couldn't tell her about doing things that he couldn't tell her about.
He had managed to get back to the States shortly after her 18th birthday and they had gotten married, but he had soon returned overseas. Much of the first 5 years of their marriage had been spent apart, though letters and emails kept them in touch.
Finally, he decided not to re-up. To return to the States. To New York. To her.
To have a life with her. Buy a house and make it a home. Start a family.
And join the NYPD.
It's got to be safer than the Marines, right?
Their life together was good.
They found a house. A former Marine, willing to sell to another at a good price, especially since it had sat empty for years and needed a lot of work.
Both had enjoyed doing the work, the physical labor a nice break from the rigors of medical school. Turning it into the home neither had ever really had.
The unexpected pregnancy had kicked plans into high gear, hoping to have their home ready when the baby arrived. He had been so excited to become a father, and talked her through her concerns and fears. He was attentive, always making sure she took time to take care of herself.
Both were thrilled to find out they were having a little girl.
Hannah Elizabeth, they decided.
Plans were made for the nursery. A few things bought.
Then, suddenly, it was all gone.
She stopped by obstetrics one morning, concerned at the lack of movement for several hours. Hannah had been a very active baby and rarely stopped.
A gymnast, they had decided.
Or a dancer, maybe.
But that day, they got the horrible news.
No heartbeat.
Their little girl was gone.
Labor and delivery.
So tiny. Perfectly formed, looking like she was sleeping.
They held her. Mourned her.
Buried her.
Nothing left but a few memories and a few photos.
The doctors never determined the cause of her death. They told the couple that there was no reason they couldn't try again, once she healed physically.
Once they were ready.
But it wasn't to be.
Time passed and her due date approached. She knew it would be a tough day all around.
But no idea how tough.
September 11, 2001 started bad and got worse.
Lucy sighed heavily.
That was the past. It was time to make some decisions about her future.
About their future, she revised, resting a hand on her stomach.
Back in her bedroom, she set a bottle of water and a package of crackers on her nightstand, washed her face, brushed her teeth and her hair, then slipped into the oversized t-shirt she slept in. Pulling back the covers, she turned out the lights and curled up in the bed. She sighed, remembering how nice it had been to share it with someone else.
How safe and protected she had felt.
After sleeping alone for over 20 years, one night in the company of Francis Reagan had left her aware of the empty spot next to her.
He had offered her the opportunity to change that.
Again, though, could she in good conscience accept a marriage proposal just so she wouldn't have to sleep alone?
Tomorrow. She would think about it tomorrow.
While I don't have a formal, written outline of what is going to happen in each chapter, I have an idea in my head of what each chapter will include. This chapter wasn't supposed to include all of this. It was actually only supposed to be a few lines, maybe a paragraph or two about each of them thinking back on their marriages as they considered a new one. Instead, it blew up into a whole chapter and the rest of what was going to go on in this chapter has been pushed to another. I hope I gave a bit more insight into these characters and the pasts they carry.
Again, reviews appreciated.