SEASONS OF LOVE
Chapter Eight
Over the following months, I noticed that
Andrew’s attitude towards me had changed considerably. Where he had once been
loving and affectionate—even a marriage of convenience can become one of love,
if the circumstances are right—he had grown cool and distant. Somehow, I knew
that Jack’s visit was to blame, and wondered just what Andrew Junior had told
him. It was the only way he could have known, for there were no other
witnesses, and I had never said a word. Still, Andrew never mentioned the visit
to me, making me wonder if perhaps something else was wrong. But whatever it
was, he wasn’t telling me, and neither was anyone else.
Still, we kept the marriage together. Divorce
or annulment was never spoken of, and sometimes I wondered if he was truly
angry with me. There were times when he appeared to be in pain, growing very
pale and sweating heavily, making me wonder if he was ill. When I expressed
concern, however, he was always abrupt with me, saying that nothing was wrong,
and that I shouldn’t fuss over him. He was always contrite later, apologizing
for his abruptness and telling me that there was nothing to be concerned about,
that he was simply tired and needed to rest. Since he sometimes worked very
long hours, this made sense to my naïve mind. I even wondered if his coolness
and distance might be because of that very reason.
It wasn’t until a year after the incident
with Jack that I learned how very wrong I had been.
*****
The telephone rang while I was sitting in the
kitchen, going over the household accounts. Andrew Junior was at the paper mill
alongside his father, and the rest of the children were outside playing.
Feeling an unexplainable surge of trepidation, I answered it.
"Calvert residence."
"May I speak to Rose Calvert,
please?" The official-sounding voice made me even more uneasy.
"Speaking."
"Mrs. Calvert, this is Dr. Byrd, your
husband’s physician."
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Calvert, I regret to inform you
that your husband was brought to the hospital early this morning after
suffering a major heart attack."
I almost dropped the receiver. Steeling
myself, I asked, "Will he be all right?"
"It’s highly doubtful, Mrs. Calvert. I
would suggest that you come to the hospital at once. Andrew Calvert, Jr. is
already here."
The receiver slipped from my nerveless
fingers, dangling against the wall. Ignoring it, I rushed outside.
In minutes, I had rounded up the children and
pushed them into the car. Grateful that Andrew had allowed me to learn to
drive, I headed in the direction of the hospital.
*****
Andrew Junior was in the lobby when I
arrived. Oblivious to him and to the stares of other people, I rushed to the
admissions desk, Ellie in my arms and the rest of the children following close
behind.
Trying to calm myself, I spoke to the nurse.
"I received a phone call a short time ago, telling me that my husband,
Andrew Calvert, was brought here after suffering a heart attack."
She nodded, much more calmly than I thought
appropriate. "Yes, he was."
"May I see him?"
"I’ll have to ask his doctor if he can
have visitors."
I was ready to demand that I be allowed to
see him, since I was his wife, but at that moment Dr. Byrd walked into the
lobby. I had never seen him before, but when he walked over to Andrew Junior
and spoke to him in a low voice, I knew who he was.
"Dr. Byrd?" I interrupted his
conversation with Andrew Junior, who gave me a strangely smug look, as though
he knew something I didn’t. Ignoring him, I asked, "How is Andrew doing?
Can I see him?"
"Mrs. Calvert…" He pulled me aside,
motioning the children back. I set Ellie down beside her sisters and followed
him.
"What is it?" I asked, trepidation
building within me.
"Mrs. Calvert, I doubt that he’ll live
more than another hour, if that. If you want to see him, I suggest that you do
so at once. You will need to leave the children here, however."
"Why?" My voice was beginning to
rise in panic. "Why can’t they see their father?"
"It might prove to be too much of a
strain for him. Besides, there are some things that children shouldn’t
see."
Suppressing my rising dread, I nodded.
"Which room is he in?"
"I’ll take you there myself."
*****
Andrew was in a private room, shielded from the
eyes of other patients. He lay on a sterile white bed, covered by a sheet and
blanket in spite of the summer heat.
My heart constricted with dread when I saw
him. He had never looked so pale before, or so weak. I knew then that Dr. Byrd
was right—Andrew was going to die.
There was a chair in a corner of the room.
Pulling it over to his bedside, I took his hands praying that I wasn’t too
late. "Andrew?" I whispered.
He opened his eyes and tried to lift his head
when he saw me there, but it was too much of an effort. Finally, he spoke, his
voice weak and hardly more than a whisper.
"I wasn’t sure you’d come."
"Oh, Andrew, of course I had to come.
You’re my husband."
"I wasn’t sure what you’d do. I thought
that you might just be waiting for me to be gone, so that you could go to that
fellow who came by the house last summer."
"Last summer? You did know, then."
"Yes." He rested for a moment,
garnering the strength to go on. "Andrew Junior told me."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"I…didn’t want to know what you actually
felt, whether you wanted to leave and go with him. He was John Robert’s
father?"
"Yes." I nodded my head, feeling
tears well up. Andrew Junior had obviously not told him that I had sent Jack
away. "He was. I had thought that he was…dead, and so I had never told him
about…our son. He wanted to meet him, but I…I told him that he couldn’t. It
would have been too confusing. John Robert had never known any father but you,
and to introduce him to the stranger who really was his father…it would have
been too confusing. He was only five years old, after all. And I was
afraid—afraid that his father would want to take him from me. I couldn’t bear
the thought of losing him. And so I sent Jack away."
"Jack?"
I paused, only then realizing that I had
revealed the name of John Robert’s father. I had never told anyone before. Only
Mother, Cal, and later Jack himself had known the truth. "Yes." I
took a deep breath and went on. "He left then, and I have never heard from
him since. He said that he was going back to his hometown. Andrew, I…couldn’t
have gone with him. No matter what your reasons and mine were for marrying in
the first place, I am your wife. I made my vows to you, not him, and I would
never betray you."
Andrew looked at me, his eyes filled with
sorrow. "Rose…I’m sorry I didn’t doubted you. Now…it’s too late to change
anything."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but
he went on. "I’m sorry I kept my illness from you, Rose. I should have
told you."
I shook my head. "I should have realized
that it was more than just tiredness, but you sounded so convincing…"
"I didn’t want to give you an excuse to
leave." His eyes fell closed as he struggled to take another breath.
"Rose, I love…"
His voice trailed off. I sat still, waiting
for him to finish his statement, and at last realized that his struggle was
over, and he would never speak again.
Tears running down my face, I pulled the
sheet over his head, then sat beside him a moment longer. I hadn’t wanted this
marriage in the first place, but now that he was gone, I realized how much he
had come to mean to me.
Slowly, I formed the words that I had never
been able to say before.
"I love you, too, Andrew Calvert."