The days passed slowly. Virgil being forced to relax drew into sharp focus just how much he did; both for his garage, and around the house.
“I could probably handle making dinner,” Virgil said one night.
“You can come out and say that you think I’m a bad cook,” I half joked.
“You’re not… bad,” he said delicately.
“It’s very sweet of you to spare my feelings. Okay, if you feel up to it, but nothing fancy,” I urged him. I sat in the kitchen with him as he worked. Michelle came in just before dark, her cheeks red from the cold, and her clothes covered with snow and mud.
“What have you been up to?” I asked her, raising my eyebrows.
“The boys from Swan’s Hollow were at Riley’s,” she said. “We had to defend our fort.”
“I see.” I said. “Get cleaned up, Daddy’s making dinner.”
“Oh good,” Michelle said. I chuckled.
Finally, the day of Virgil’s checkup arrived. We drove into Bell City after dropping Michelle at school. I waited while he had his work up, then the doctor came in and talked with us for a long time. In the end, she said that while Virgil would need to take a step back from the garage, he could otherwise resume his normal activities.
“Including… um… in the bedroom?” He asked, the tips of his ears turning pink again.
“Yes… within reason,” the doctor said. “Ease into it.”
That was all the encouragement we needed. I broke several traffic laws to get home, and we were shedding clothes as we headed up the stairs. Virgil kissed me passionately as we sank back into our bed.
“Just four hours until Baby Girl gets home from school,” he said, kissing my neck and gently biting my earlobe. “I plan to make the most of it.”
And make the most of it, he did. Admittedly, part of it was because of the building anticipation, but he barely touched me and I was on fire. He made love to me slowly, with the patented tenderness I had come to know and love about him. He gently parted my thighs, sliding between them and burying his face where they met. He teased me for quite a while, using his tongue and fingers to bring me to the edge. When he finally slid inside me, I was 99% there already.
Finally, we lay together, panting.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him. “Be honest.”
“Amazing,” he said breathlessly. “I missed that.”
“Me too,” I replied, stroking the smooth skin of his bicep. We lay there for a bit, catching our breath.
“Baby girl will be home soon,” I said once my pulse slowed to normal, getting up and getting dressed.
We were just coming downstairs when Michelle came through the backdoor.
“Mama, Daddy, Riley asked if I would spend the weekend with them, after thanksgiving. They are going to go down to Rose Hollow for the Christmas Parade.”
“I think that would be fine,” Virgil said, looking at me. “Is it okay with you, Mama Bear?”
“It is.” I said. I was glad Michelle had friends to spend time with, and I always looked forward to time alone with Virgil.
“I suppose we’re going to have to host Riley at some point.” I told Virgil as Michelle went off to do her homework. He grimaced. Neither of us liked Riley very much. She was nice, and her family was nice, but Riley was loud and accidents tended to follow her around.
“I mean, I did just have a heart attack,” he said. “I’m sure Susan Fitzgerald would understand us not inviting Riley over for a while.”
“Mr. Baker,” I teased in a low voice. “Are you suggesting we take advantage of-Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered those damn pictures for Julia Sweeny,” I grumbled. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Speaking of taking advantage, I might throw you under the bus a little.”
He chuckled. I went up to my office and emailed the pictures to Julia with apologies, citing Virgil’s illness. I checked in at work, but it was slow this time of year. Most of our Holiday content was planned months in advance and there was little to do but keep the lights on until January.
I had a response from Melanie Jerad at Green Grass. It outlined her timeline, and mentioned that she was flexible. She delved more deeply into what they were looking for, and while I had no doubt that I could write it, I needed to talk to Virgil about it.
“Hey you,” I said when I came back downstairs. Virgil was in the kitchen. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Is this something I should sit down for?”
“I don’t think so, I just wanted to tell you that Mel gave a publisher my contact details, and they reached out to me about writing something.”
“Ella, that’s fantastic.”
“It is, but what they want me to write about is our marriage, and I wanted to make sure you were okay with it before I did.”
“Our marriage? Why?”
I explained the first email, the “love in a small town” angle and the other details.
“So not the spicy stuff.”
“No, probably not.” I chuckled. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay with it before I agreed to any of it.”
“I love everything you write, and I think I would love to read that.” He set aside the vegetables he was chopping. “I think our story is special, but I don’t mind sharing it,” he went on, taking me in his arms.
Inwardly, I hoped this meant that he was getting past the feelings he had been feeling recently – that he was too old for me, or that I might want to leave him.
I kissed him.
“Thank you,” I told him softly.
“You’re welcome.”
Thanksgiving was a low key affair. After we broke the news to Bill and Frank, they demanded we come to their house for dinner.
I called Zaira to see if she might want to join us, but she surprised me.
“I have plans of my own,” she said.
“Do tell,”
“Not yet, I want to see how things go.”
“Zaira Ramirez,” I gasped. “You’ve got a crush.”
“Maybe.”
“I can’t wait to hear about it.”
The next day, we headed up to Verona. Bill and Frank were a couple who were perhaps 5 years or so older than Virgil, both white haired now, but always jovial and kind. They doted on Michelle as well, giving her books and a geode kit. She squealed with joy and asked if she could play with it.
“After dinner, maybe.” I said. Virgil nodded. “Mama and Daddy can help you with it.”
We sat down to eat, and Frank chastised Virgil for not calling them while he was in the hospital.
“There wasn’t anything we could have done,” Bill said grumpily. “We would have just been in the way.”
“We could have helped somehow, I’m sure.” Frank insisted. Virgil’s eyes twinkled, but he didn’t say anything.
“I appreciate it, Frank.” I passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to Bill. “We were fine, and we didn’t want to worry you. He was only in the hospital a few days.”
“Mm.” Frank said, but I could tell he was a little wounded still. Despite that, dinner was a mostly light hearted affair. We ate and drank, laughed and joked. I was feeling a little tipsy and giddy by the time we got home. I stood in the doorway of the living room, CB in my arms, watching Virgil and Michelle open the geode kit. I loved them both so very much.
After breakfast the following morning, the Fitzgeralds collected Michelle. I had a word with Susan, apologizing for not hosting Riley more.
“Oh, pish, don’t you worry about that right now, with your husband being in the hospital.” She gave me a wide smile. The Fitzgeralds had come to LaCera 7 years prior from somewhere in the midwest. Mr. Fitzgerald worked at the LaCera Parks Department. “Plus… I know Riley’s a lot.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” but I could tell my tone was unconvincing.
“She’s my child, I’m keenly aware.” Susan said as the girls ran by, clamoring into Fitzgerald’s van.
“Thanks again,” I called after her. They went on their way, and Virgil and I were alone in the house again.
We decided to take a walk up into the foothills to a spot Virgil liked to take me sometimes. It wasn’t too strenuous of a hike, but he still needed to stop and catch his breath at the top of the trail. He sat on a fallen log. I sat next to him, and we looked down into the Aurora River Valley. The day was clear, and we could see all the way to Verona and Swan’s Hollow, little pocket settlements of 300 people tucked into the valleys and hollows of the foothills.
“Are you sure you’re happy?” He asked once he had caught his breath.
“Why do you keep asking me that? What can I do to convince you?”
“I don’t know. I guess maybe I’m just being a silly old goat.”
“You’re a silly old goat, yes, but if something is bothering you, let’s talk about it.”
“I’ve just been in my head,” he sighed. “The same thoughts circling around up there, that I didn’t do enough or give you enough, and some of it was because I thought there was more time.”
“I’ve never once thought you didn’t give me enough.” I said. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but have you called that Therapist? I think they might be able to help you with some of this. I’m happy to repeat that I’m happy as many times as it takes, but I think it might go deeper than that.”
“You’re probably right,” he sighed again, putting his arm around me. I leaned against him.
“I just want you to know, once and for all, that I am a very happy, satisfied woman.” I told him. “In every aspect. You are a great husband, a terrific father, and you have one of the best cocks I’ve ever seen.”
“One of?” he looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“I mean, I think maybe I need to see it again, just to be sure that my assessment is correct.”
“Oh really?”
“Mm hmm,” I slid off the log and onto my knees in front of him.
“You have my attention,” he said as I unbuckled his belt. I freed his cock from his jeans and took it into my mouth. I used my tongue in creative ways along his shaft and he sighed and groaned as I did. Eventually, he swore and finished in my mouth.
“So what’s the assessment?” he said as I climbed back up next to him. “Still just one of?”
“No, I take it back, it’s the best.” I said.
“Uh huh,” he chuckled. “You’re a wild woman.”
“That is why you married me.”
“I married you for a lot of reasons,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” I asked playfully.
“Yeah, your heart, your spirit, your big green eyes, your freckles,” he listed off, kissing me. “Your great rack.”
I chuckled.
“I loved watching your body change as you carried our daughter, I loved watching you get older,” he said. “I hope that doesn’t make you feel self conscious, but I loved it so much, you just grow more beautiful every day.”
“I thought you said I hadn’t changed?” I teased.
“In a lot of ways, the ways other people see, you haven’t, but in the ways I see, you have.”
“The naked ways?”
“Yes,” he said with a small smile. “Your body changed, and I love every inch, every curve.”
“Then I hope that you can understand that I love the things about you that have changed, too.”
He blinked, and I realized that no, he had never considered that.
“Really?”
“Yes,” I said. I hugged him close. After a while, we headed back home and climbed into bed together to warm up. He held me close.
“Is it still bothering you?” I asked him after a while.
“Yes.” He sighed. “I told you, I didn’t think I had a problem with getting older until I got old.”
“This is just a new season of life,” I said. “We’ll learn to adapt to it.”
He was pensive, his eyes troubled.
“I love you, no matter what,” I repeated. “Whether you go blind or live to be a 110, I will love you.”
“If I were blind, I would know you. I have memorized every line, every curve of your face… The sound of your breath, the scent of your skin. I would know it was you before you spoke a word,” he said. “I love you so very much.”
I kissed him hard then, and we were pulling off our clothes. Virgil had always been a more than competent lover, but that afternoon, he managed to outdo himself. I arched my back as he brought me to orgasm again, and again, licking me softly until I begged him to make love to me.
I lay panting in his arms.
“You okay?” I asked him.
“Right as rain,” he said, but he was breathless.
I hugged him tight.
“You’d better be.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Hungry? Thirsty?” I asked him.
“No,” he said softly. “Wanna walk into town?”
“To do what?”
“Pick up our mail. Maybe see the lights? Get out of the house. I just don’t know what to do with myself. I ‘ve never liked being idle.” he said.
“Sure, let’s go.” I said
We got dressed and walked into town. A few other folks were out for a walk, the weather was a little warmer that evening, but clouds hid the stars.
“The town is having a New Year’s Eve Social this year,” I said, reading a notice tacked up on the bulletin board outside the post office. “That’ll be nice. Food and drinks, music and more.”
“We’ll have to take baby girl,” Virgil said.
“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of implying you leave your best girl home.”
“You’re my best girl,” he kissed me softly. I smiled. We went into the post office and collected our mail. On the walk back, we said a few hellos to people we saw, and took in the Christmas lights again.
Once at home, I sorted through the mail. There was a handwritten letter for Virgil. I sorted through the rest, mostly junk while he opened the letter and read it.
“Christ,”
“What?” I was at his side in an instant. He handed me the letter.
Dear Mr. Baker,
I hope this is the right address for you. I am sorry to reach out to you like this, but I was too chicken to make a phone call. My father passed away a few years ago and while going through his things, I found out that he was not my biological father. I pressed my mom for details and she told me that you are my father.
I stopped reading.
“Is this a joke?” I asked hoarsely.
Virgil was pale, and his breathing was slow and wheezy.
“Are you okay?” I asked him after a beat.
“I am,” he sighed. “It’s Jenn’s daughter. I recognize the last name in the signature.”
“What? How…”
“Right before she left, we slept together one last time,” he sighed. “She left the next morning, and we hadn’t spoken since, everything else was through the lawyers. I guess…” he trailed off.
I read the rest of the letter and was further heartbroken to read that her mother had also recently passed away.
“That poor kid,” I whispered. We were both quiet for a long time. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. In retrospect it was probably shock, but in the moment it was a strange numbness that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words. There was also an undercurrent of anger at Jen. How could she sleep at night, never telling Virgil he had a kid? I bit my lip. Over the years, I had gleaned that she and Virgil didn’t have a good marriage, and he blamed himself for it, but I had always chalked that up to Virgil… well, being Virgil. It never occurred to me to consider that he might have actually been the bad guy.
“She’s gotta be 21 or 22 by now,” he said when he finally spoke. “That’s so young to be on your own.”
I sighed.
“I’m sorry Ella, I had… I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. Don’t apologize.” I said. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t really know,” he said honestly. “I feel like I got the wind knocked out of me.”
“I bet,” I said.
“You aren’t mad?”
“What? No, you didn’t know. I mean, I suppose I’m mad at Jenn for never telling you.” I said. “But I’m not mad at you, no.” I sighed. “I think you should call her,” I said after a while. “You’re right, she’s so young to be on her own.”
“God, I missed her whole life.” he said softly.
“That’s not your fault.” I reminded him.
We went up to my office and I sat down in front of my computer.
“What’s her full name?”
“Jessica Marrows.” I looked her up on social media. There were two possible matches. The first one was a blue eyed blond girl with a heavy jaw. The second looked like an older version of Michelle; long dark curls, big dark eyes, and Virgil’s nose.
“Oh, Virgil, she’s beautiful.” I said, turning the screen towards him. He looked, and I could see his eyes were wet.
“She looks like Baby Girl.” he said, verbalizing my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I said. “She goes to UCLA. Or at least she did. Looks like she lives in California.” I found some basic information about her. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” he said.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I said. “Don’t do anything that might-”
“I’m not glass,” he said. “I just can’t believe Jenn would keep this from me. She knew how badly I wanted a kid.” His voice took on a bitter edge. I had never heard anything like it before.
“I’m sorry.” I said softly.
“Me, too.” he said. “I wouldn’t change a thing about our life, about Baby Girl, but god dammit.” his hands were shaking. I worried if his heart could take this.
“Hey,” I said, taking his hands in mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” he sighed. He took a couple of deep breaths and then put his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“Why don’t we do this,” I suggested. “Tomorrow, we’ll give her a call, together, try to get a feel for her.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
I sat with him for a long while. He would occasionally look over at the desk at Jessica’s picture.
“Do you want to call her tonight? “ I asked him after a bit.
“Kind of,” he admitted.
“Then let’s call her.”
Virgil took a deep breath, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He hesitated a moment before dialing.
“I can’t do it,” he whispered. “What do I say?”
“Jessica, I am your father?” I bit my lip. He gave me an incredulous look. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is very surreal for me, I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“Like a cow in a tornado.” He sat back in his chair. “Dizzy. Sick.”
“What can I do?” I asked helplessly.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “Will you get me a glass of water, please?”
“Yes.” I flew to the bathroom. We kept cups in there in case we got thirsty during the night. I was back in a flash. Virgil was pale and his face was sweaty.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so,” he panted.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah, I think.” I helped him down to the truck. I drove 100 miles an hour the whole way to Bell City. We got to the hospital and mercifully were seen right away.
“Mr. Baker, you’re not having another heart attack,” the doctor said after he was examined.
“You’re having a panic attack, but it’s good that you came in, because that could have been very dangerous. You need to avoid stress.”
“I’m trying, but some stress found me,” he muttered weakly.
“I’m going to write you a prescription for a low dosage of xanax,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You need to take it easy.” Her tone was firm. “I’m going to need you to hang out for a little bit, okay? A nurse is going to finish up with you here in just a few.”
“How are you doing?” I asked him softly once the doctor was gone.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been sick a day in my life,” he said softly. “This is strange to me.”
“I’m sure.” I sighed.
“I do want to call her,” he said. “I just… Will you help me figure out what to say?”
“Of course,” I said, my brows knitting together. “But you have to take it easy, Virgil. I mean it. I can’t do this without you.”
He squeezed my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
It was very late by the time we got home, and I was very tired. Virgil took a xanax and went to sleep with me.
He woke up the next morning early, but he complained the xanax made him feel groggy.
“Maybe cut it in half next time.” I suggested, trying to be helpful, useful in some way.
“Maybe,” he agreed, yawning.
“Do you want some tea?” The doctor had suggested this instead of coffee to help with the anxiety.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” he said. He followed me downstairs. “When’s Baby Girl back?”
“Tuesday.” I said. “School’s closed monday for an in service day, the Fitgerald’s are going to take her to school Tuesday morning and then she’ll be home after.” I said. I started making the tea. “You feeling better over all, though?” I asked.
“A little. What time do you think is late enough to call?”
“I don’t know. Maybe noon, just to be safe? She’s young, she might sleep in.”
He nodded. We had breakfast before going up to my office. I worked on an outline for what I might write about in terms of our marriage, and he read a book. The morning went by slowly, but at noon, Virgil picked up his phone and hesitated before dialing.
“I still don’t know what to say.”
I nodded.
“You can tell her that, I’m sure she doesn’t know what to say, either.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “There’s no right way to do this, we just have to feel it out.”
He gave me a faint smile. Picking the phone up again, he dialed the number and waited. It rang four times.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi. This is Virgil Baker. I’m calling for Jessica Marrows?”
“Oh hi… this is Jessica.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say,” Virgil admitted after a long pause.
“Me either,” she said.
“I was sorry to read about your parents,” he said.
“Thanks… I’m curious about you. Would be okay if I asked you questions?”
“Yes, can I ask questions about you?”
“Of course.” She paused. “Are you married?”
“Yes, my wife’s name is Ella.” he said. “We have a 10 year old daughter named Michelle.”
“I have a sister?”
“Yeah, I guess you do,” he said. “Are you married?”
“I’m 21, no.” she laughed. “But I guess you and Mom were married way before you were my age.”
“Yeah, we were.” He smiled faintly. “Ella looked you up on line, I see you went to UCLA,”
“Yeah, mechanical engineering.” I smiled. She was her father’s daughter, too.
They chatted for nearly an hour, where she told us she had taken time off from her job at a company that made generators to “walk the world” as she called it. She had a little family money from her – she hesitated and then said step dad- but she would have to go back to work eventually. She asked about Michelle, and Virgil gloated about her love of science and reading. Towards the end of the conversation, Jessica said:
“I would love to meet you all some time.”
“I would love to meet you, too.” He looked at me. “I need to talk it over with my wife, but can I call you again in a few days?”
“Sure,” she said. And then they said goodbye.
“She seems normal enough,” I said.
“Do you feel comfortable inviting her for Christmas? It was only one conversation, but she seems like a good kid.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said. It was true, she seemed very nice and normal, but it was one conversation. And there was Virgil’s health to consider.
Virgil kissed me.
“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Of course.” I said. And we went back up to our bedroom.