Panacea

Thank you to blackrandl1958 for organizing the Sharing is Caring Event and for editing this story. This was a fun challenge.

Thank you for your constant feedback, D.

*****

Kristen and David Miller ran a support group two times a week for couples who struggled getting pregnant. The group met in their beautifully renovated colonial on Lawrence Avenue, which was about three miles away from our home. Heather found out about the whole thing through her doctor. He thought it might help her get out of her depression after her miscarriage. I was skeptical, but I attended a few meetings.

It was… fine. Kristen made food and encouraged everyone to bring their own dishes and snacks. David made sure all the men knew they could come to him for a beer and to talk about sports if they didn’t feel like sharing their feelings. They reminded me a little of the Cleavers, or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Brady, except they were both younger and way more fashionable. Kristen had blonde hair that just touched her shoulders, and she had a tremendous smile that made my heart speed up a bit. David was the dark to her light, with dark curly hair and a scruffy beard much like my own. They ran the meetings smoothly and warmly and frequently discussed their problems conceiving. They also tried IVF, but to no avail, and were in the process of adopting their first child.

There were more women than men in attendance at the meetings, but I certainly wasn’t the only husband present. Most nights there were about half a dozen people there, self-consciously munching on food and typically sobbing by the end of the night. It was a major downer to me, and I felt tremendously uncomfortable as the people around me shook with their grief. I never did well with emotion.

Heather flourished at the meetings right away, acting more alive than she had in six months. She didn’t talk about the miscarriages, at first. She told them about herself, about me, about how we met. She told them our engagement story and how there was a foot of snow on the ground the day we got married. Eventually, she told them about her job and expressed her frustration about being a counselor when she felt like her life was falling apart. Then, one night when I wasn’t expecting it at all because we had a really good day, and I thought maybe we’d even skip the whole thing, Heather broke down and told them about how difficult it was to be the only sister out of five to be without children. Thick tears fell down her cheeks as she told them about things she never said to me, like how she felt like an epic failure, that some days she didn’t want to get out of bed, that sometimes she didn’t even know what her purpose in life was anymore. She loved her job, and she loved me, but she was always meant to be a mother. If it wasn’t coming easily, was it a sign?

When she was finally done and a shivering mess of tears and bitterness and pure hurt, Kristen walked over and hugged her. David said something profound and soothing. I sat there like a dumbfounded moron, wondering how we went from having a fun time at Home Depot and out to dinner at our favorite restaurant to this. It was humiliating and horrible to sit there and watch my wife’s naked grief and feel powerless. It was the last time I attended. Heather stopped asking me to go a few weeks later, and I knew she understood why I wouldn't.

I was grateful to get away from the whole thing, anyway. Kristen was friendly enough, but she irritated me with her large observant eyes that flashed hazel in the light. She inspected you, letting her gaze travel up and down your body without seeming embarrassed. She had attempted to get me speak many times, but I would just mumble something about “next time” and eat a pretzel. She pulled me aside once and said that if I wanted to support Heather, I should make more of an effort to participate.

It wasn’t that I was deliberately trying to be unsupportive of Heather, if that’s what I was being, but I was dealing with my loss and sadness in a different way. I was never one to talk about my feelings, and Heather knew that. She didn’t begrudge me that. We had a long conversation, once Heather realized I was never going back, and we both agreed to let each other heal in whichever way was best for us.

Heather kept going to the house. She became closer and closer with Kristen. I pushed myself harder at my construction business, picking up more work and spending more time with my friends. It didn’t dawn on me that we were drifting apart until she pointed out to me that we hadn’t really said a word to each other in two weeks.

“I can’t lose you, too,” she wept.

I pulled her tightly to my chest and vowed she wouldn’t. We would get close again, I promised, and we were going to move on and find some way to cope together. We were going to be okay again, no matter what it took. No matter what.

*****

Heather stepped into her boots and grabbed a raggedy green umbrella.

“It’s coming down pretty hard out there,” I told her, but she wasn’t listening. She was too absorbed in her weekly ritual. I cleared my throat and tried to get her attention again. “Maybe I should drive you.”

Her sleepy violet eyes, the eye that caught my attention all those years ago, finally turned in my direction. I could tell she had no idea what I’d just said, so I repeated myself.

A smile flashed across her face. “That’s okay, baby. You know I like to walk.” She pulled her long black hair up into a ponytail. “I’ll be okay.”

“Right.”

She came over to scratch affectionately at my beard and stood on her toes to kiss my nose. “Stop worrying about me.”

I watched her walk out into the afternoon storm from the living room window, avoiding the deep puddles forming on our long driveway. Like always, I grabbed my keys and waited the sufficient amount of time so that I could follow her without her noticing, although I was fairly certain she knew about my own little ritual, too. Neither of us ever mentioned it, like so many other things.

By the time I pulled up to the house that was approximately two miles away, Heather was already in front of it, closing up her umbrella and waving at her hostess. Kristen was outside for some unknown reason, standing at the edge of her property. Her big eyes caught me and a smile spread across her face. She took a few paces out onto the road and beckoned me over.

I cursed under my breath. There was no avoiding her now, and Heather would be furious if I ignored her new best friend. I pulled over and lowered my window. Kristen leaned into the car, smelling like sugar and cinnamon.

“Well, hi. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I just… I’m just making sure Heather got here okay. It’s terrible out.”

“That’s for sure.” She swallowed, and I watched her delicate throat vibrate with the motion. It distracted me for some bizarre reason, which made it difficult to focus on the rest of what she was saying. “Why don’t you come inside? It’s just David and me tonight. Everybody cancelled because of the weather.”

“Thanks, but…”

“It would mean a lot, to us and to Heather.” When I opened my mouth again, she put her hand over it. I was too shocked to say or do anything else. “We don’t have to talk about loss, or babies, or anything you don’t want to. Why don’t we just have a nice dinner?”

I felt like punching the steering wheel. The last thing I wanted to do with my Wednesday night was sit in Kristen and David Miller’s perfect home and have dinner with them, but Heather stood by the front door. In the fading rain, I could make out the hopeful and excited expression on her face that I hadn’t seen in ages.

“Fine,” I mumbled beneath Kristen’s fingers.

She took her hand away and at least had the decency to look a little sorry. “You left me no other option. I apologize about that.”

I pulled my truck into the driveway and took a deep breath. This was probably going to be disastrous, but I had to man up and go. There was no escape now.

I checked my reflection in the mirror before heading inside.

*****

The house seemed a lot cozier without the others. Kristen had lit a bunch of candles and the house smelled like delicious cooking with just a hint of Kristen’s scents of sugar and cinnamon. David appeared from the kitchen and was surprised to see me. He grinned and gave me a light smack on shoulder.

“Good to see you, Jack.” He handed me a glass of red wine, still grinning. “You came by on a good night. Kristen is making her special recipe of chicken rollatini and you’ll love it. How are you doing? It’s been forever.”

I drank the wine, feeling like I needed it. “Nice to see you, too. I’m good, how are you?”

“Can’t complain.” He handed me a plate of cheese and disappeared back into the kitchen with Kristen.

Heather smiled at me as she took something from the plate. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I studied my wife and noticed for the first time how much better she looked. Her face had lost the gaunt, pale look that had scared the shit out of me in the months after we lost the baby, and the blush of her cheeks was back. Those eyes shone with contentment as she stared back at me. “You look worried.”

I laughed. “No, not worried. Surprised. You look great tonight, is all.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Surprised that I look great? Way harsh, Jack.”

I reached for her, and for the first time in forever, she met me halfway. “Hush, brat. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Kristen and David came back out and encouraged us to take our wine into the living room. I was more than a little anxious about sitting on their cream-colored sofa, but they just laughed. They chatted with Heather for a while about this and that, and I found myself warming up to them a bit, especially because I sensed that Heather looked so healthy that night, mostly thanks to them. They seemed to really care about my wife, and that made them okay. It also helped to relax me.

“So, Jack,” Kristen began, shifting her attention to me, “Heather tells us you are thinking about building an addition to your house. That’s awesome.”

“You’ll have to come look at the plans,” Heather said, tossing me a bright smile. “Jack is so talented.”

“I’d love to see them!” David said. “I’m terrible with home improvements.”

“You absolutely are.” Kristen leaned toward me conspiratorially. “He’s not allowed to touch our sink ever again, except to wash his hands.”

“Not this again,” David groaned, but he was smiling. “You knew I was less than a handyman when you married me. You’re stuck with what you’ve got.”

Kristen laughed. “Right, right. I won’t embarrass you anymore.”

David looked at me and laughed. “Thank God. I thought she was going to tell you about the time she found the kitchen sink in the middle of the living room floor.”

“You’re kidding,” I laughed.

“Nope. Dead serious. Dead serious about sucking at being handy around the house. Need me to look at your computer? Anytime! Need some help with anything that involves screws or a hammer? Not your guy, unfortunately.”

Heather and I exchanged an amused glance, and her eyebrows were up as if to say, “See what I mean? They’re nice people.” I just nodded back.

David angled himself in my direction so we could discuss the Yankees while the women went on about some sappy TV show. I realized I was having a great time and felt a little ashamed that I had been so resistant to the Millers.

Dinner was amazing, as promised. Kristen was an outstanding cook. We laughed and spoke more over the dinner table, sharing stories and memories. There was no mention of those that we had lost, which I was immensely grateful for. I wasn’t ready to discuss our misfortune, not yet, and I appreciated them understanding that.

I followed Kristen into the kitchen and helped with the dishes. She thanked me profusely, which made me embarrassed.

“It’s no big deal,” I mumbled.

She prepared the dessert and spritzed some whipped cream on top of the pie. “David is a great help, but he always forgets about the clean-up.”

“Men are pigs,” I joked.

“Mm,” she agreed, sticking a finger into the whipped cream. Then she stuck out her perfect pink tongue and lapped at it.

Being a man, I reacted. Blood enflamed my veins and I heard the rush of my heartbeat in my ears. She looked at me mildly, but there was a sparkle in her eye that made me wonder if she knew how much she was teasing me. I made some excuse and hurried back out to Kristen and David.

After dessert, Heather stood and stretched. “Kristen? It’s time for us to head out.”

I was relieved. As kind as they were being, I wasn’t the social type, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Kristen’s tongue.

Kristen went to get our coats. David shook my hand. “Do this again soon?”

It felt like everyone was waiting for my answer. “Definitely. Maybe… our place next time? You guys must be tired of hosting all the time.”

Kristen handed me my coat and gave me a sweet smile. I tried not to think about her tongue, again. “Well, we love to host, but we’d like to see your home. That would be really nice.”

“Great. We’ll set up a time.” I helped Heather with her coat and felt her squeeze my side, which I took as a little thank you. I’d done more than make an effort that night, and I wasn’t sorry.

The Millers were good people, and they had worked wonders with my wife. I certainly didn’t mind seeing them again.

*****

The next evening, Heather wasn’t anywhere to be found when I got home from work, although her car was parked outside. Worry gnawed at my gut as I looked for her. Surely there had to be some rational explanation as to why she was gone, but my anxiety erupted into all horrific possibilities. She wouldn’t go anywhere without her car, and she would have left a note or texted me.

Then I heard her calling my name softly. She was in the house, in what would have been the baby’s room.

I stood on the threshold and watched her packing up some books. She was crying while she did it.

“What are you doing?”

She rubbed at her eyes and placed another book in the box. “Packing these up to donate. There are so many and… it’s the right thing to do. I’m going to work on the clothes next.”

I shifted my weight, hearing the creaking wood beneath my feet. didn’t know what to say. It seemed like a betrayal, like sacrilege. The sight of it incensed me and provoked me, mostly because it made me feel powerless.

“Stop.”

She didn’t. She didn’t even flinch when I slammed my fist into the wall.

“You are not taking his things.”

He had been a “he”. We hadn’t named him. It was too hard.

Her violet eyes were wet with tears. “Baby, we need to. Come in here and pick a few things you want to keep, but the rest has to go.” I opened my mouth to shout back, but she kept talking. “I had a nightmare last night. I didn’t wake you. I took my meds and I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I dreamed it was thirty years from now and we were still as we are, broken and fucking dead. And this room…. It was all the same. We hadn’t changed it, we hadn’t had another baby, we hadn’t moved on. We were just dead, Jack. I c-can’t bear that.”

I didn’t want to enter the room, but the sight of Heather crumpling was enough to get me to move. I comforted her as best as I could and tried to avoid crying, myself. I knew from experience that once I started, I couldn’t stop, and that wouldn’t help anybody. “They’re his things, Heather. We’re going to have another baby and…”

“It kills me every time I pass this door.”

I kissed the top of her head, then leaned back and wiped a tear from under her eye. “Okay. Whatever you think is best. Okay.”

“Help me? This is so fucking hard to do alone.”

Shit. I moved to his closet and gingerly folded up his clothing, feeling like my heart might actually stop beating.

“Kristen said this was the hardest thing she ever did, but that she’s so glad she did it. They’re just things, Jack, and another boy needs them somewhere. If we get lucky in the future, the next time we try, we can always get new stuff.”

I stopped what I was doing and stared at her. “Kristen, huh?”

“Don’t be mad at her. She’s just trying to help.” She was annoyed with me now, which was better than crying. “By the way, they’re coming over to dinner this weekend. Don’t be rude, okay?”

“I’m not mad at her. And I won’t be rude.” I pulled out a little Yankees jersey. A jersey a kid may never get to wear. Fuck. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I fumbled folding it. “I don’t like how influential she is over you, though.”

“Jesus. She’s not trying to initiate me into a cult. She’s helping me.”

“I know.”

Heather wrapped her arms around my middle and hugged me hard. She took the jersey out of my useless hands. She folded it perfectly and put it on the bed. “Why don’t you keep that?”

I touched Heather’s face. I loved her so much; she kept me tethered to the earth, kept me good, kept me sane. “Okay.”

*****

The Millers showed up with wine. David shook my hand and made some joke about how they would have been on time if Kristen hadn’t taken forever to get ready. When I looked at his wife, I did a double-take. Kristen wore a champagne-colored satin top that clung to her curves in the most indecent way. Her tight black skirt just touched the middle of her thigh, and her black tights only served to accentuate how fit her legs were. I loved my wife tremendously, but I was still a man, and I couldn’t help but look Kristen up and down…. more than once.

David was watching me when I finally pried my eyes off his wife, but he didn’t look furious or upset. He just looked thoughtful, which was weird. Feeling tremendously uncomfortable, I took the wine into the kitchen and breathed in and out deeply a few times. Heather asked if I was doing okay, and I could only nod.

Dinner was great. It turned out that we had a lot more in common than I thought we would. They had been married for six years, just like we had, and had both been born and raised in Florida before moving to New York just the year before. David worked in financial advising, and Kristen was a teacher. They were head over heels in love with each other, which was obvious due to their frequent looks and sneaky little kisses.

Then, they brought up their son when they mentioned moving to New York. ”That was the summer we lost the baby,” David sighed. Kristen looked down at her plate.

I cleared my throat. ”I’m sorry. I wish there was something more I could say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” David said. He gave me a small smile that struck me as almost paternal.

I rubbed my beard and tried to think of something profound and kind, but nothing came to mind. All I could say was, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Kristen asked. “Before it happened, I never knew what to say to people who were grieving. I just wanted to run from them. After it happened, I still didn’t know what to say and I still wanted to run from them. The support group helped.”

“I know the feeling.”

Kristen took my hand and squeezed. “You’re not alone in not knowing how to handle all of this.”

“You guys figured out how to deal,” I said.

David snorted. “I fuck up constantly. We had a new member join the meeting last time and I don’t know why but I found myself saying one wrong thing after another to her. I hope she comes back.”

Kristen dropped my hand and hugged her husband. “She’ll come back. Not your fault.”

David picked up a framed photo of Heather and me that sat close by. I was wearing my own Yankee’s jersey in it. It was our first date. David smiled and handed it to me. “Gotta love the Yanks.”

“That was a dramatic day,” Heather laughed with tears in her eyes. “Jack asked me out and told me we were going to this really great place where a lot of people were going to be, blah blah. For some reason, I interpreted that as us going to some fancy restaurant. Imagine my surprise when he pulls up wearing a jersey and a baseball cap. If you look closer, you’ll see I’m wearing a cocktail dress.”