I Love You, Too

"I almost threw it all away."

"And that's why the photographs of you?"

"Ah, Annie, your dad and I had a rough start. I don't want to be like my mother, so I'm going to tell you when you meet that special guy, tell him how much you love him. Marriage isn't fifty-fifty. No it's not. It's one hundred percent from both of you."

"Mom? What's wrong?"

I haven't thought about it in years, yet my words tumbled out. I told Annie I was raped in college.

The photos I had in my hand fell to the floor as I started to cry. Annie wrapped her arms around me.

"Ah Mom, why did you keep that inside you all these years?"

******Chapter Fourteen*********

It had been a few months since Annie and I had our daughter mother talk. She promised she'd never let dad know she seen the photos he took of me that night.

I noticed that Jim hadn't been eating like he used to. He told me he thought it might be ulcers, and that he'd have himself checked out. Knowing him like I did, he'll never make an appointment. I shrugged it off and kept busy with JJ and my other chores around the farm.

It was a late Monday afternoon while I was washing some dishes when I happen to look out the kitchen window. Jim was walking toward one of the barns when he stopped dead in his tracks. His hands went around his middle and right before my eyes, he dropped to the ground on his knees. I ran out the front door and helped him up.

"What in the name of God is wrong?"

He didn't answer, his face grimaced from pain, and I moved him over to the fence where he leaned back against it.

"I get these pains now and then." He stopped to catch his breath then continued, "It's probably stomach ulcers. I'll have it checked out."

"I know you will. I'm calling the doctor and we're going to find out what's wrong."

Jim wouldn't let me take him back to the house, and he went into the barn. I heard him knocking about inside, none the worse, so I went back to the house. Should I call? He'll get pissed if I do, but what choice do I have? I dialed the doctor's number and set up an appointment for Jim. I might have to tie and gag him, but this is one doctor's visit he's not going to get out of.

**********

It took a week or so before I could get Jim in. I thought for sure I've have a fight on my hands, but much to my surprise, Jim didn't make too much fuss.

I stayed out in the waiting room while the doctor gave Jim the once over. He was in there for the longest time. The clock on the wall told me Jim had been in there for a couple of hours. A nurse came and said the doctor would like to talk to me. I figured I'd have to come up with meals that Jim could eat and not make his ulcers bleed.

The nurse didn't take me to the examination room, instead she showed me to the doctor's office. A minute or so went by when Jim and the doc walked in. Jim's face was as white as a new sheet of paper.

I slipped my hand into his. "What's wrong, Jim?" He eyes were red and sorta bloodshot. Had he been crying?

"Have a seat, Laura," the doctor said.

"What's wrong with Jim?"

"He has a nice crop of ulcers growing, and I can treat them with some meds."

The small office became as silent as a funeral. It was as though all the air had been sucked out.

"Laura..." The doctor looked right into my eyes as his voice trailed off.

"What's wrong with Jim?"

He folded his hands on his desk and said, "Jim has advanced pancreatic cancer."

It was as though an invisible hand yanked me back into my chair. "No he doesn't. You're wrong!" I snapped back.

"I wish I were."

I looked over at Jim. "There are treatments aren't there? I mean we're going to lick this aren't we? You're the person that other people come to, to fix their problems. You and I can do this together."

Jim looked over at me. "We'll try. It's a shitty card to be dealt."

I took his hands into mine and held them as tightly as I could. I kissed the back of his hand. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

************

Neither one of us said a word on the way back home. When Jim opened the front door, he tossed his car keys onto the counter and walked back to our bedroom. I didn't follow him. He needed to deal with this by himself. Only he knew what was inside his head. I go about as best I can and fiddled around the house. I picked up a pillow and moved it to different location only to pick it up once again and return it. I lay down on the couch.

Apparently I took a long catnap and when I woke, I heard the porch swing squeak. I peeked out though the kitchen window and saw Jim sitting on the swing. The front door squeaked when I opened it and I saw Jim's head tilt back up toward me.

"You have enough room for me?" I asked.

"Always."

"Rough day wasn't it?"

"No shit..."

I put my hand on his thigh and with my other hand, brushed some of his hair from his eyes. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just be with me."

The swing squeaked when Jim gave it a nudge with his foot.

We sat together while that old swing slowly moved back and forth.

And then for the first time in our marriage—the first time since we met—Jim wept in front of me. I brushed the tears from his cheeks and said, "It will be fine. You'll fix this. That's what you do. You fix problems."

"I don't want to go!" he said through sobs, "I want to see my grandchildren..."

We held hands and watched as a storm in the distance grew. Thunder rolled across the cornfields as I lay my head on Jim's chest and listened to his heart.

I didn't want him to go either.

**************

For the next month and a half we drove an hour to the treatment center for five minutes worth of radiation every day. Those treatments racked his body with side effects. The chemo was the worst.

One day as soon as we returned home, Jim went to bed. I was sitting on the porch swing; I guess it was just after sundown, when the front door moaned as it opened. Jim came out, his feet sliding more than walking, and sat beside me. His skin and eyes were yellow with jaundice.

He didn't say a word for the longest time, and then he said, "I want you to know that even during the darkest times in our marriage, I never stopped loving you."

I slipped my hand into his. "I never stopped loving you either."

Jim looked out over the fields of corn, and then turned back toward me.

"I decided that I'm not going to do anymore treatments, and I need to know that you're okay with that."

I leaned my head on his shoulder and squeezed his fingers tight. "I am."

His body seemed to relax like an overstretched rubber band.

"I love you," Jim said.

"I love you, too."

About four months later, Jim passed away.

********Chapter Fifteen**********

They say that time heals all wounds. I guess they're right. Time has blurred some of the memories that I had. And after decades, some of the details are not a sharp as they once were—Yet I'll never forget Jim.

I have kept my hair long and it still covers my breasts. There are a few more silver strands now than before. I would come out on the porch on those lazy hot days of summer and open that special lock box that Jim had kept. Although the colors have faded, and the corners dog-eared, I remember that night with Jim like it was yesterday. I savor the memories like fine wine.

JJ has long been out of college, and Annie is pregnant once more. That will make it three and I think that will do it for her. It's too bad Jim never met his grandchildren.

Jim left me financially well off and the farm had been paid off decades ago. I could have left and gone back to Chicago, but like the fields of corn that surround our farm, my roots are buried deep here.

I met a man, his name was Paul Fisher, and he was the president of the local bank. He lost his wife around the same time as I lost Jim. It had been at least ten years after I lost Jim that I came to Paul's bed. Twice now he has asked me to marry him. Annie told me I should be happy in my time and I guess, perhaps, the next time Paul asks, I'll say yes.

*************

That old porch swing Jim installed the first week after we moved in is still up, and it's as strong as the day Jim hung the cables.

And it's on nights like this one when I'm all by myself that I sit and remember all the times, good and bad, that Jim and I talked about while sitting on this swing.

I let out a long sigh as I watched the last rays of sunlight kiss the corn tassels goodnight. The air became still in that magical time between sundown and twilight. I watched as lightning bugs flashed their songs of love with their lanterns in search of a mate. I remember how our children would run about trying to catch them as the grass turned wet with dew.

The long low wail of a faraway train's whistle brought me back for a second.

I closed my eyes once more, and I recalled the familiar warmth of his hand in mine. How his fingers would run through my hair. How he would loop stray strands over my ears and place kisses on my neck. Oh, those kisses... Do I remember those kisses and how they'd turn me into a pile of Jello.

"Ooo, Jim, I miss you so much..."

Then out of nowhere, as though by a breath from his lips, the wind chimes played three notes.

I knew what they said and I answered, "I love you, too."