Renewa lPart Two

Echoes in Eternity

What We Do in Life …

Renewal - Part Two

by

Reagan Kavanagh

This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended. © Reagan Kavanagh 2006.

Author’s Note: Thanks to Diana for the Rules of Negotiation! RK

REAGAN
Max had taken the plans in to the office for Terry, Dino, and Sooze to see. I had a duplicate set at home and called Dee.

“What’s on your schedule for today?”

“Nothing I can’t rearrange if you have a better offer. Why?”

“Max took his copy of the plans for the new house in to the office to show everyone. Why don’t you head this direction, and I’ll show you my set?”

“On my way! I want to see our room in case you make me decorate it.” Interior decorating is another of Dee’s dislikes though she and Max will have a great time designing the barn.

An hour and fifteen minutes later she was there, and the plans were spread out on my dining table.

“Jesus, Reags, couldn’t you have made it a bit bigger? No servants’ quarters?” I swatted her, and we laughed. “At least you put the master suite on the ground floor so you and Max don’t have to climb stairs when your knees and hips blow out. Did you think to soundproof the master suite?”

“Yes, we did! I know the house huge, but this is where we plan on spending the rest of our lives. If we’re fortunate enough to have two or more children (her eyebrows went up at that comment), we’ll need the room for them. If we only have one or two, we’ll have plenty of room for guests. When Terry, Max and I were in London and we met Nigel and Amanda Groome, we fell in love with them. We’d both love to have them visit, and they have four children, three adolescents and a toddler, who wouldn’t be interested in sharing a room. The toddler can sleep in the nursery with our baby. I'll let the three adolescents fight it out as to which of them gets a room to themself. I also really do have family members – cousins on my mum’s side – with whom I’m on speaking terms, and it would be nice to have room for them as well.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of cousins you’d actually enjoy having visit.” I shrugged.

“I’m in occasional contact with a cousin and his wife and children who live in the Houston area – and no, Max didn’t think to call them when I had the accident – and we’ve always gotten on well. We just don’t live in each other’s pockets like some families do.”

“I can appreciate the hell out of that.” She pointed toward the garage area. “Is the barn going to be on this side of the house?” I nodded. “Where’s the mud room?”

“I knew I kept you around for a reason! I guess it should be just off the garage.”

“Yeah …cement floor with a center drain, a toilet, sink, and shower head. Don’t make the mistake of putting the sucker in the house proper like I did. It will also come in handy with the rug rats and Max …you can just throw them under the shower in the mud room and hose them down.”

I called Bill Fry and told him to add a mud room just off the garage.

We put my house – it sounds funny to call it that, but Max still considered it ‘mine’ – on the market the day we signed the papers to build the house on the farm in Ellis County. The housing market hasn’t been good in North Texas since the presidential election in 2000, as the economy has been so tight. I expected it would take a minimum of six months to sell the house, and that would be if we were lucky. I had taken the summer off from teaching …again. My dean laughed when I put in my request and motioned me from where I was leaning against the door jamb to the chair across from her desk.

“Reagan, you’ve been my ace-in-the-hole as long as you’ve been faculty here. I’ve always known I could count on you for anything, and nothing comes without a price. Of course you may have the summer off. Frankly, now that you’re married and I know you and your husband plan on starting a family, I think you might want to consider no longer teaching summer sessions at all.”

I looked at her; I’d wanted to ask that favour but wasn’t sure how receptive she’d be to it. I knew my position was secure – tenure takes care of that unless I did something as foolish as seducing a student on the steps of the admin building – but knowing that it’s difficult to find faculty willing to teach summers had made me wait. She was obviously expecting for a response from me.

“You’re right. We do want a family, and we’ve bought a farm down in Ellis County. We’ll be moving as soon as we sell my house, and construction on the new house at the farm will begin this summer. Who can you find to take the summer classes I’ve been teaching?” She smiled.

“Someone I think you’ll approve unconditionally …Melody Williams. We’ve watched the undergraduate classes she’s taught under your supervision, and based on your evaluations of her and pending your concurrence, the department would like to offer her a Graduate Teaching Fellowship.” I couldn’t contain my smile.

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see take the position, and Melody deserves the recognition. She’ll do a great job for you …for us.”

“I thought you’d approve. I’ll call her later today and get her in here to sign the contract.” I left the University with a far lighter heart than I’d had on arriving that morning.

I hate having a house on the market. That means that you have to keep it looking as if Mr. Clean and his white tornado have just run through because you never know when the realtor will call and ask if she can bring someone by to see it in half-an-hour. That also meant the dogs and I had to pile into the car and disappear for an hour. God forbid the presence of the home owner should influence a possible buyer’s decision. That has never made any sense to me. Yes, the realtor has most of the information on the property, but there are always questions potential buyers would like to ask that only the owner can answer appropriately. Today’s call came before I’d had my second cup of coffee.

“Dr. Espan? This is Joy Phillips with MLS Realtors. I had a call at home a few minutes ago from a couple in town for the week. They’re relocating from Charleston, South Carolina. They drove by your house late yesterday and were simply enchanted with it. They saw you watering the roses in the front yard and your dogs were flopped in the shade of that big oak tree …they just fell in love with the property and were hoping they could stop by and take a look at it.” I looked at the clock again.

“Joy, I’ve just gotten my husband out the door to work and haven’t even had time to shower. What time did they have in mind?”

“Any time in the next half-hour.”

“That isn’t funny, Joy. It’s seven-thirty now …can you hold them off until nine?” She laughed.

“I can do that. I know it’s irregular, but would you like to stay there while they see the house? I just have a really good feeling about this couple, and they may have some questions for you.” That sounded promising.

“That would be easier for me than herding three hundred pounds of dogs into the back of my H2. I’ll have them in the back yard before you get here so the prospects won’t be licked to death.”

Did I neglect to mention that when we replaced my car after the accident, Max had put his foot down regarding makes and models? No more ‘toy cars,’ no more ‘small cars,’ no more ‘fuel efficient economy cars with the tensile strength of a beer tin.’ His parting comment had been impassioned.

“Cassandra, you are my wife. You will carry our children within your womb and following their birth, they will be with you in whatever vehicle we purchase for you now. As your husband, I demand that you drive the safest possible vehicle available that comports with your desires.”

He thought another Jeep was too small. I don’t like Ford Explorers. He nixed all the foreign made SUVs – he thought they were ‘too insubstantial’ and mentioned tensile strength again – and I didn’t like much of what the American market had on offer. I drove a rental Jeep for a while, and then Terry and Max went to the car show, and Max came home with brochures on Hummers. They had been in the book case until a couple of months ago.

Two weeks after looking at the brochures and seeing a dealer, I took delivery of a 2007 model H2 in a midnight blue metalflake colour. It was almost the same colour as the Bentley, and we laughed about that. I’d wanted British Racing Green, but that wasn’t on Hummer’s list of colours. Max said to try the blue, and if I didn’t like it within a month, we could have a custom paint job done. I decided I liked it.

I showered and dressed and shooed the pups out into the back yard at five minutes before nine; the doorbell rang promptly at nine. I opened it to see Joy standing there with a couple of about the same ages as Max and me. The woman was hugely pregnant. I invited them in and introduced myself. Their names were Joseph and Angela Cartwright. They seemed very nice.

I gave them the grand tour. They loved the master bedroom suite in particular (Max and I had dismantled the sex swing and stashed it in the closet when we put the house on the market) and the house in general. I took them on a tour of the property, and they loved the fact that they could actually have a country-style vegetable garden; Angela said she’d been raised on a farm and had never liked living in the city. They asked why we were moving.

“We’re in baby mode (they both smiled) and hope to have at least two children. My husband has very strong feelings about not converting the current guest room to a nursery; he wants our children to have their own rooms from the day they’re born, and I agree. We want a formal nursery. The third bedroom here was converted to my office on the day I moved here …I bought the house several years before meeting my husband, and he moved out of his flat and in with me. Max is also a farmer at heart – he was born on a farm in southern Spain – and has bred horses in years past. He’d like to be able to farm and do a bit of breeding again, and I’m happy with that.” Angela seemed to hesitate but finally asked the question.

“Are you English, Dr. Espan? You seem to have a slight accent, and I notice your terminology is significantly more English than American.” I laughed and shook my head in the negative.

“No, I was born and raised in Texas, but as an educator, my diction has become very precise. My husband was educated in England and has what one of his business partners calls the ‘Royal Shakespeare Company three pints after lunch’ diction. After living with him for the past couple of years, I suppose it’s rubbed off on me.” Joseph laughed as Angela smiled.

“I was raised in Chicago …and after five years with Angela and living in the South, I sound like I’m from Chaalston.” It was my turn to laugh at the southern inflection he put on the name of the city, and he did sound like a Southerner. After walking the property, we returned to the house, and I offered coffee as I motioned them and Joy toward the table in the breakfast nook. I put their cups on the table and looked at them.

“I have a couple of things I need to do in the office. Why don’t I give you a few minutes alone? Feel free to look around the house again, and come get me when you’re ready to leave so I can say goodbye and show you out.”

I headed down the hall to my office and closed the door when I got there. Joy knocked on the door 15 minutes later, and I followed her back to the lounge where Joseph and Angela stood waiting for me. I extended my hand, and they both accepted it.

“Thank you so much for coming by. I hope you find a house that will become your home as much as this has become ours. Good luck.” Joseph wasn’t willing to let it go at that.

“Dr. Espan, we really like this house and the property. We have a couple more houses to see today, but we were wondering if we might stop back by tonight or tomorrow night and meet your husband. Would that be all right with you?” I looked at Joy, and she nodded.

“Tonight would be perfectly acceptable. Max is usually home by six …would about six-thirty be convenient?”

“That would be great. We’ll see you then.” I followed them out to the drive and waved as Joy drove them away before calling Max.

The doorbell rang at 1829, and Max went to open it, escorting Joseph and Angela inside. I introduced the three of them, and Max looked at Joseph.

“May I offer you a libation, Mr. Cartwright? We have beer and a variety of distilled spirits. I have just made a scotch and water for myself …please join me. May I get you something soft, Mrs. Cartwright?” Joseph spoke first.

“Joseph, please. And yes, I’d like a drink. Bourbon and water if you have it. Angela?” I looked at her and held up my glass of orange juice.

“I’m trying to conceive so alcohol is on my not-to-be-consumed list as I’m sure it is for you. I have orange juice, apple juice, and cranberry juice along with soft drinks. What may I get you?” Both of them followed us to the kitchen.

“Cranberry juice would be great.”

Max and I poured, and we returned to the lounge and sat. They really didn’t have any questions I’d not answered earlier in the day, but I got the feeling they just wanted to get a feel for the couple who had been living here. I could appreciate that, as my own ancestry holds strong feelings that the former inhabitants of a house have the ability to make it a ‘happy’ or ‘sad’ house; one doesn’t want to live in a ‘sad’ house. They seemed satisfied that this was indeed a ‘happy’ house and left within 45 minutes. Joy called early the next morning. The Cartwright’s loan to buy had been pre-approved, and they would be signing the paperwork for purchase of our house next week. Joy anticipated that the purchase would close within a month, and the Cartwrights wanted to move in as soon as they closed …could we be out within that time frame?

MAXIMUS
Neither Cassandra nor I had anticipated the house selling so quickly, and we had not been prepared to move within a month when it did sell. I called Mr. Abbott and asked how soon he would be able to relocate to his house in town. He advised that he had already moved; the farm house was ours whenever we chose to occupy. I took a day off work, and Cassandra and I busied ourselves with the making of arrangements for packers and movers. I called Mr. Abbott a second time to enquire about having a fence built round the farmhouse in order that the dogs not wander off until they were accustomed to their new surroundings. He knew of an appropriate contractor and said he would make the arrangements if I would give him the dimensions and materials I had in mind.

I consulted the calendar and noted the Fourth of July fell on a Wednesday. If I were to take leave the preceding Monday and Tuesday as well as the following Thursday and Friday, I would have nine days in which to accomplish our move to the farm. That would permit me to relieve Cassandra of much of the burden of the task, as well as to oversee the workers who would be packing, loading, and unloading the moving lorry. Whilst I know she is more than capable of seeing to her own safety – indeed, I would pity any man who attempted to take inappropriate advantage of her – given the events of this last year I would rest more easily were she not to be alone with men neither of us knew. Terry and Dino were in accord with my thoughts; they offered the strengths of their own backs and the hands of both Diana and Ellen in helping us on the weekends before and after the actual date of the move as well as on the day itself. Cassandra and I set the move for Tuesday, the third of July. The moving lorry and crew would arrive at the house at seven in the morning; they anticipated having the lorry loaded and on the road to the farm by noon. With luck they would be unloaded and on their way back to Dallas by six that evening. It would be a long day.

Uncharacteristically, it rained early the morning of our move. Terry and Diana and Dino and Ellen arrived just before six. Ellen had taken time off to help her oldest friend, and Sooze was covering the office whilst Terry and Dino were at our house. On awaking to hear the rain, Cassandra commented that at least we were in North Texas rather than the Houston area. Even with the rain, the humidity would be low; that would make the physical activity and exertion easier to bear. The dogs were excited; they had been sniffing round the various packed boxes for weeks, and we banished them to the backyard when Dino and Ellen arrived. The six of us stood in the kitchen drinking coffee and attempting to make some plan of attack for the task ahead. Terry looked at his watch.

“Right then …the removalists will be here at seven?”

“Assuming they are timely, that is correct.”

“Then I’m heading up the road to the kolache shop where Reags got those great kolaches she brought me last year whilst I was recuperating. We don’t need to start this job on empty bellies.” He left before I could get out my wallet to give him money; he later refused my attempt at reimbursement. “It’s not as if you’ve not carried me on an occasion or two in the past, Mate.”

He is a good friend. I had made a trip to the bottle shop across the Interstate the evening before, and there were cases of beer in one cooler and soft drinks and water in a second. Dino had brought multiple bags of ice, and we dumped them atop the various beverages to insure they were cool within an hour. The removalists’ lorry drove up at five minutes of seven, and the loading crew disembarked. I looked at them …a burly lot if ever I had seen one, and I was reminded of the barbarians on the Germanian front.

Cassandra and I had spent the last month packing in the evenings even as she worked at the task during the days. We had been spent weeks walking in tunnels created by the ever increasing stacks of boxes; the dogs had enjoyed themselves immensely, as they could hide amongst the stacks and jump out to startle each other as well as Cassandra and me. By noon everything had been loaded. We made one last walk through the house to insure we had left nothing behind.

The house was as empty as a vacant tomb; I turned to look at her and saw the tears in her eyes. It is difficult leaving a place where one has been happy, and this house was filled with good memories for her …for both of us. I took her into my arms, kissing the top of her head as she wrapped her arms round my waist.

“We will make memories in our new home, Cara, and will remember this house with great fondness.” She sniffled and then smiled up at me.

“I know we will. I love you, Max.” Shortly following her accident she had begun calling me Max. When I questioned her reasons, she indicated that she did not feel up to the task of explaining to a young child – or children – why she addressed their father as Maximus. Whilst it was strange to hear ‘Max’ on her lips, I both understood and agreed with her logic.

“And I love you.” We placed our keys on the kitchen counter for the realtor to collect and walked out the door, locking it, and stood for a moment looking at the rose bushes in the front yard. We could have taken them with us, but Mrs. Cartwright had been enchanted with them; Cassandra left them for her. We would plant more at our new home. We had ordered bushes of St. Patrick’s, Sheer Magics, Betty Whites, Deep Secrets, Maharishis, Gold Medals, Golden Unicorns, Lime Sublimes, and Black Magics, the latter for Diana’s enjoyment. I had asked if so great a variety was necessary and received what I have come to understand is ‘the look.’ I offered to assist Cassandra in the planting when the bushes arrived and got a radiant smile.

Terry and Diana, Dino and Ellen were standing beside their respective cars waiting for us. They intended following us and would help with the offloading before going home this evening. One measure of true friends is their willingness to assist with tasks that are less than pleasant, and they had bent their backs with us this day. They are the best friends one could wish; we are fortunate to have them. I hope they find themselves as fortunate in having us as their friends. We got into the Hummer; I had driven the Bentley to the farm yesterday and left it there. Cassandra had followed me, and I returned with her. That vehicle would have been of little use today, whilst the Hummer would easily carry the dogs. We drove down the lane and looked back as we turned the corner. Our new life was beginning.

REAGAN
We’d been up less than half-an-hour when everyone arrived to help us, and I was sipping a glass of water before trying coffee. Max, Dee, Dino, Ellie, and I were standing in front of the house when Terry returned from the kolache shop with breakfast, and the odour of the pastries hit me like a ton of bricks. I turned and sprinted for the house. Dee and Ellie looked at each other as I took off and followed me; I caught a glimpse of a knowing look on Dee’s face. The men were too busy stuffing their faces to notice that mine was green.

I made it to the bathroom in time but didn’t have the luxury of closing and locking the door before Dee and Ellie caught up with me. I fell to my knees as I raised the lid on the toilet and retched violently. Nothing came up but water, but I continued dry heaving for five minutes. At one point Ellie started to rub my back, and Dee stopped her.

“Don’t, Ellie. That only makes it worse.” By that time I was up and headed for the lavatory to spit and brush my teeth for the second time that morning, praying that the toothpaste wouldn’t set me off again. Ellie watched me before speaking.

“Reags, when we were kids and you were sick, rubbing your back seemed to help settle you. Are you all right?” I spat and rinsed my mouth and turned to face them. Dee was smiling, and Ellie looked worried.

“Give me six months, and I’ll be fine.” Ellie’s mouth dropped open. Dee’s grin got even wider; I’m surprised she could close it enough to speak.

“Have you told Max yet?” I shook my head.

“No …he’s had too much on his mind lately, and he’d be worried about me today. I’d be relegated to watching and pointing, and I’m not going to lift anything heavy …that’s what friends are for!” Ellie found her voice.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Three months this week. I wanted to wait until I passed the first trimester to tell Max or any of you guys.”

“How long have you been throwing up in the mornings?”

“About six weeks. It’s gotten less severe the past couple of weeks. It will probably subside within another week or so.”

“Uhhh, ‘scuse me for sounding ignorant, but hasn’t Max noticed that you spend part of each morning with your head in the john?” Dee laughed out loud at that.

“If he was here when I was chundering my toenails, yeah, he’d notice. Given he’s usually out of the house before seven, he’s been gone when it happened. On weekends, he likes to get out and work in the yard early before it gets too hot, so he’s been outside when I was in the bathroom. I honestly don’t think he has a clue.” Dee laughed again.

“Max is really good with horses, Ellie. He knew Pretty Woman was pregnant before I did. He just doesn’t have a lot of experience with pregnant bipeds.” Ellie looked at me.

“I thought he and his first wife had a child.”

“They did, but he was in the Army and away from home when she was pregnant. He didn’t even know she’d conceived for several months and didn’t get home until Marcus was three-months-old.” She thought that over for a minute.

“Well, I guess that explains it.” Thank God we’d let her in on the secret with that night we did Truth or Dare. Dee asked the obvious question.

“Just when are you planning on telling the father-to-be?” I smiled.

“Sometime between tonight and his going back to the office on Monday. And yes, you can tell Terry – and Dino – if you like, just wait until you get them home tonight. I don’t want Max asking why they’re both wearing shit-eating grins, and he really does deserve to hear it from me first.” Ellie nodded.

“I won’t tell Dino. Max deserves the privilege.” Dee smiled again.

“Same here. Terry probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself from congratulating Max prematurely and blowing it sky high.”

“Thanks, and I promise Max will have news for both of them – and Sooze – on Monday.”

I may have thought Max would relegate me to standing around and pointing if he knew I was pregnant, but Dee and Ellie were even worse. Every time I started to pick up a box, one of them ran over and took it away from me. I finally hissed at both of them in the kitchen at the farmhouse.

“Will you both fucking STOP taking boxes away from me? Max has noticed it, and he’s beginning to look worried.” They stopped but kept a weather eye on me the rest of the day. I sighed in relief as the four of them left the farm that evening; Max interpreted the sigh as fatigue. I was tired, but we were all tired. His arm was round my shoulders, and he turned to look at me.

“I would offer to take you into Dallas for dinner, but I fear we are both too tired for the drive. I would likely fall asleep driving home.” I could only nod in agreement. I had sandwich things in the ‘fridge; that would be good enough for tonight, and I said as much. He shook his head.

“No. Whilst the only so-called restaurants in town are McDonald’s and Whataburger, there is a Howard Johnson’s Hotel on the Interstate. I called earlier, and they have a dining room. We may dress casually,” we were both in jeans and T-shirts, “as they have assured me that the majority of their guests are in jeans, shorts, and T-shirts, if not swimsuits with pullovers.” I laughed.

“We may be overdressed!” He laughed with me. Ten minutes later we were on the road and heading for Howard Johnson’s. He found out the next morning that I was pregnant.

I was so tired that it took me over an hour to go to sleep last night, and I woke before five this morning. I lay there for a while, hoping I’d go back to sleep. No such luck. I must have fidgeted once too often because Max rolled over and looked at me.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Maybe half-an-hour. How about you?”

“Only a few minutes. Shall I make coffee?” I felt my gorge rise at the very suggestion. I made the supreme sacrifice of answering as brightly as possible.

“Sure. I’ll just brush my teeth and join you in a minute.” Please, Max, please get out of bed and just go to the kitchen without dressing first. He rolled over and got up, went to the bureau and opened a drawer, got out underwear, then opened another drawer looking for clothing. PLEASE leave the room! I really didn’t want him to find out he was going to be a father by watching me heave for ten minutes. He turned back to me.

“Do you know which box has my shorts and T-shirts in it?” I gestured toward a box in the corner. If it had been daylight he’d have been able to read MAX – SHORTS AND T-SHIRTS written on the side of the box. “May I turn on the light?”

“Sure.” That was all I could manage. He flipped on the bedside lamp and walked over to open the box. Just as he pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt, he turned back to say something else and was greeted with me flying out of bed and running for the bathroom. The wooden toilet lid and seat clattered against the tank as I threw them up and knelt beside it, barely making it in time before I heaved. He was at my side in a heartbeat.

“Cara! Are you ill? Did dinner not sit well with you? What may I ….” I tried to push him away and – of course – he started to rub my back. That started it all over again. He sat on the floor beside me and waited it out. When I finally stopped heaving, he stood and held his hand down to me and pulled me to my feet. I managed to get to the lavatory and rinsed my mouth before brushing my teeth. When I turned back to him, he was smiling.

“When were you going to tell me?” He didn’t look the least bit surprised …talk about stealing someone’s thunder.

“You knew?” He nodded, the smile getting wider.

“Of course I knew. When you failed to bleed in April, I hoped. When you did not bleed in May, I prayed. When you did not bleed last month, I knew. I ask again, when were you going to tell me?” I can’t put a damned thing past this man. I grinned.

“I wanted to wait until we got moved down here. I thought if you knew earlier, you’d worry about me, and I didn’t want that. I also didn’t want to say anything until I was past my first trimester …which is this week.” I looked at him. “Are you angry at me for waiting to tell you?” He took me in his arms and, thankfully, did NOT rub my back again.

“Of course not. I knew you would tell me when you felt the time to be right. I must admit I was hopeful you would get round to it before your labour began.” I punched him in the belly, and he giggled. “I surmise the mention of coffee was not a good thing.”

“Let me get down a glass of water and a couple of soda crackers first, and then I’ll be ready for coffee.” He finished dressing and went to the kitchen, and I followed him a few minutes later. So much for telling him in the gentle, romantic way I’d envisioned. As Fate would have it, that was the last bout I had with morning sickness.

MAXIMUS
I walked into the office on Monday morning with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. Prior to leaving for work, Cassandra had pronounced my self-perceived spring to be a prideful male swagger. I had to acknowledge her astuteness in the matter, as I was indeed prideful. What man is not when he knows for a certainty that his wife carries his child in her womb?

Sooze greeted me as I entered the suite, and I spoke.

“You may wish to meet me in the coffee room as soon as I have put my briefcase in my office.” Her curious look followed me down the hall, and I noted my colleagues sipping coffee in their offices as I passed. I paused between the doors to their respective offices and spoke to them.

“You may wish to meet me in the coffee room in a moment. I have news for you.” I continued to my office and put my briefcase beside my desk, taking time to turn on my computer and monitor and remove my coat before proceeding to the coffee room. The three of them were standing about with cups in hand and curious faces. I poured myself a cup of coffee and turned to face them.

“Cassandra is with child.” Terry’s hand jerked, and he sloshed coffee down the front of his trousers. I must speak to him regarding his reactions when I have personal news; if he continues in this manner, I shall feel obliged to supplement his dry cleaning expenses. He had done the same on the day that I told him of asking Cassandra to marry me, and I smiled at the memory. Sooze was the first to regain her composure and hugged me tightly, followed by Dino and Terry’s slapping me on the back with bonhomie. Their reactions were entirely predictable.

“Good onya, Mate!”

“Fuckin’ A, Max!”

“When’s she due?”

“She is at the end of her first trimester; the child is due in December.”

“Now I know why Diana was looking so smug all weekend …she must have sorted it out on her own.”

“Did you just find out, Max? Why’d she wait so long to tell you?” Dino is ever one to cut to the heart of a matter.

“I sorted it out on my own some time past and was awaiting her confirmation. She determined to wait until safely through the first three months before telling me. I suspect she was a bit chagrined that I had already realised the actuality.” Sooze laughed.

“Yeah, well, there’s at least one sign that’s pretty hard to miss.” To my mind there are at least three, though I was reluctant to mention the cessation of menses or the enlargement of breasts …those particular signs are best left to discussion between husband and wife or between women. I erred on the side of caution in my response.

“I was present Thursday morning when she was ill into the toilet after my having mentioned coffee. I had suspected for some time past; that confirmed what I was sure to be the case.” I shook my head in memory. “I did ask if she had planned telling me prior to the start of her labour, and she punched me in the belly.” They laughed with me, after which I suggested we all be about our business. Terry followed me to my office and sat across from me.

“Max, mate …I’m happier about this than you know. After her accident in the winter, well, ….” His voiced trailed away, and he looked past me and out the window at the skyline.

“I know. I, too, feared our last opportunity was gone; however, the Gods have smiled on us once more.” His visage brightened though there was moisture in his eyes as well as my own. He, too, is a father and knows the import of children. They are both our destiny as men and our assurance that history will report our having passed through this plane. He sat a bit straighter before speaking again.

“I’ve not yet spoken to Dino or Sooze, but I know they’ll agree with me in this. Barring a true emergency, you’re not returning to the field until this child is born. Routine trips are one thing, but aside from that Reags needs you here for the duration of her pregnancy. I’ll not be a party to putting her through the stress of worrying for you until well after this child is born.” I started to speak, and he waved me to silence. “Most things are negotiable, Max; this isn’t. I’m still CEO of this firm, and this time, my word is law.” I stood and held out my hand across the desk, and he rose to take it, shaking firmly.

“Thank you, Terry.”

REAGAN
I was amazed at how quickly we were unpacked and had everything put away in the farm house. Let me amend that statement …I was amazed at how quickly we had unpacked those items of absolute necessity – and for which we had space in the farm house – and had them put away.

The tiny garage was stacked to the ceiling with still-packed boxes; they would remain there until our new house was finished. On that momentous day, we’d finish unpacking and probably be wandering through the rooms looking at the still available space. Two weeks after we moved, we invited Terry and Dee down for dinner. Unfortunately, they arrived in the midst of Max and me having an argument. I’d really like to say my pissiness was a function of the hormonal fluctuations of the second trimester of pregnancy, but it likely wasn’t.

I’d awakened very early – just after four in the morning – and as soon as it was daylight, I went to the tool shed and fired up the riding mower to mow the grass that surrounded the house. It was only about an acre, and in my opinion, no big deal. I’d mowed the property at the old house the entire time I lived there, and we’d taken turns at the job after Max moved in with me. The dogs were in the fenced yard, alternately watching me and barking at the resident wildlife. At one point in the midst of furious barking at a couple of rabbits, they went suddenly silent.

I turned the mower round to see what had their attention to the point of silencing them and saw my husband standing just outside the fence watching me. His arms were crossed over his chest, his feet were planted about two feet apart, his eyebrows were drawn toward the bridge of his nose, and his jaw was rigid. I could actually see the definition of the muscle ridges from where I was about 30 feet away. Not to put too fine a point on it, the man looked absolutely furious. I sat there as he walked over to me, reached across and snapped off the engine, removed the keys, and stuck them in his pocket.

“What the Hell are you doing, Max? I wasn’t done with the mowing.” The words ground out between his teeth.

“Yes, you are quite finished.”

“No, I wasn’t. Give me the keys, and I’ll be done in about 15 minutes.”

“You are done now.”

“No, I’m not, I ….” The next thing I knew, he’d put one arm below my legs and the other behind my shoulders, scooped me off the mower, and carried me some distance from the mower before putting me on my feet. Now his hands were on his hips, and he leant forward until we were almost nose-to-nose before he spoke.

“You are done with mowing now and for the foreseeable future. You are not to touch this machine again until well after the babe is born. Do you understand me?” I was dumbfounded.

“Max, I don’t think ….” He cut me off in mid-sentence.

“I do not CARE what your thoughts may be in this matter. The ground here is uneven; the action of the mower jostles the rider constantly under the best of conditions and is potentially dangerous to both you and the babe. You are my wife; you are carrying my child. I expect your immediate obedience in this matter.”

Obedience? Immediate? I felt the flush of rising blood pressure move up my neck and the backs of my cheeks, and my temper exploded.

“What the fuck are you talking about? OBEDIENCE? I’m your WIFE, not one of your fucking INFANTRYMEN! How DARE you speak to me in that tone of voice? How DARE you fucking ORDER me to do ANY-FUCKING-THING?”

The dogs were barking now and jumping at the fence in their efforts to get to us. Max turned and shouted at them to be quiet; they immediately lay down but began whimpering, unaccustomed to his raised and angry voice. Suddenly Bailey stood and lunged at the fence, snarling at Max who had now turned and walked toward them. Bear and Pandora were on their feet and following Bailey’s lead before Max got within five feet of the fence. Dee’s term ‘dog riot’ flashed through my brain, and I prayed they wouldn’t turn on each other and rip themselves to pieces if they couldn’t get to Max. Frankly and at that moment, I’d have been happy to see all three of them pile on him.

“REPRIMERE!” The first shout at them had been enough to spur me into overdrive; the second one unleashed my own particular brand of Hell. I ran after him, leaping the last foot and wrapping my arms and legs round his neck and waist, knocking both of us to the ground. It was a decent tackle even for American football. I landed on top of him, and we rolled, separating in the melee. I made it to my feet first, and as he followed, I pulled back my right arm and slapped him in the face with the full force of my weight behind it.

Unfortunately, I lost my balance and fell flat on my arse but not before seeing with satisfaction the look of shock on Max’s face as he stumbled back a few steps, stopping just short of the fence. I watched in fascination as his eyes went from their usual blue-green to a fierce glittering emerald, and the imprint of my hand appeared on his face. I started to get up, but the tone in his voice stopped me. He wasn’t shouting now …his voice was low and deadly.

“Cassandra, stay where you are. I do not wish to injure you.” He turned and walked away from me and toward the tree line as I sat there in the grass, breathing hard for a few moments before getting to my feet. The dogs had stopped barking as soon as he walked away. I walked to the fence, putting my hand through it to rub puppy noses as I spoke quietly in an attempt to settle them.

I’d showered and put on clean clothes by the time he returned to the house; he’d been gone just over two hours. I should have called Dee and Terry and cancelled their visit, but it just didn’t occur to me. It was now after nine and they were due here by ten. I could have called either of their cells and stopped them in the car, but again, I didn’t think of it. At that point I’d completely forgotten they were even coming down today. I was in our bedroom when Max walked into the room and stood silently watching me. My weekender suitcase was open on the bed; I was packing.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“You are not leaving this house.”

“Like Hell I’m not. No one – not even Maximus Decimus Meridius – speaks to me the way you did this morning. I’m not your slave, I’m not a member of one of your legions, and until you can behave civilly, I’m not interested in being your wife. You can call me when you’re ready to behave like a resident of the 21^st century as opposed to the second.”

“We will discuss this later. If you will recall, we have guests coming for luncheon; they will be here in less than an hour. I suggest you compose yourself prior to their arrival. I will await you in the lounge.”

FUCK!! I hate it when he’s logical, and I’m still fighting mad. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back, zipped the suitcase closed, and put it on the floor beside the bed before following him.

He was sitting on the couch flipping through channels with the TV remote – how typically fucking male of him – when I stalked in and sat in my chair. He didn’t speak and neither did I. I sulked; he ignored me. Twenty minutes later he muted the sound on the TV and turned to look at me.

“Have you calmed yourself sufficiently to discuss the events of this morning?” I shot him a deadly look.

“No, but I suppose I don’t have many options other than to behave civilly whilst Dee and Terry are here. You needn’t worry. I won’t embarrass you in front of them.”

“I am not concerned for their opinion of us. My concern is for your health and that of our child. It is imprudent for you to be jostling yourself – and the babe – over uneven ground in the fourth month of your pregnancy. I acknowledge that it is unlikely to do you an injury, but I feel it best to take no chances.”

“The yard needed mowing.”

“I am aware of that, and it was my intention to do it on arising. There was more than sufficient time to accomplish it before Terry and Diana’s arrival, as I arose before seven.”

“I thought I’d do it earlier when it was still cool. I don’t like seeing you overheated.”

“I appreciate your consideration; however, I would prefer you save your consideration for yourself and our child. The heat does not cause me discomfort.”

“You need to get it through your thick Roman skull that use of the words immediate and obedience is not wise when speaking to me. I’m not your chattel. I’m your wi….” The fucking doorbell rang. Max got up and walked toward the door with me hot on his heels.

“I’m your WIFE, dammit!”

“Lower your voice. I will not have you distress our guests with your ill temper.”

“WHAT?”

TERRY (Max’s side of the story)
I rang the bell and heard their voices as they came to the door.

“I’m your WIFE, dammit!”

“Lower your voice. I will not have you distress our guests with your ill temper.”

“WHAT?”

“A shrewish disposition does not become you, Cassandra. Lower your voice and compose yourself so that we may welcome our guests.”

“FUCK YOU!”

I looked at Diana; she looked at me before speaking in a whisper.

“I think we’ve caught them in the middle of an argument.”

“Really? What was your clue?” Her hands were occupied with the bowl of potato salad she was carrying, but she elbowed me in the ribs just as the door opened. Max stood there with his arm round Reags’ waist, and they smiled as he spoke.

“Come in. It is good to see you both.” I grinned as I looked at Reags. I’d not seen her since we helped them move in two weeks ago, and her tummy was now beginning to bulge a bit. I leant down to kiss her on the cheek, and Diana leant up to kiss Max’s stubble. Reags’ voice was pure honey when she spoke …not like her in the least.

“It’s so good to see you two! Come on in …at least now you don’t have to worry about falling over packed boxes.” I shot a glance at Diana; she’d caught the tone, too. “Let me have that bowl, Dee, and let’s get it into the refrigerator.” They took off for the kitchen as I followed Max to the lounge.

“You two doing okay? I thought I heard raised voices before you opened the door.” He didn’t give me a chance to sit but kept walking toward the back door, and I followed him. Once outside, he started dumping charcoal into the grill before speaking.

“We had a disagreement early this morning. She has not yet reconciled herself to the fact that – in this instance – I am correct and will prevail.” If the poor sod thinks he’s going to ‘prevail’ against Reags’ Irish temper, he has a lot to learn.

“You plan on telling me about it?” He looked up from the grill as he sat the bag of charcoal on the ground.

“When I arose I found her mowing the lawn. I turned off the mower and took the keys. I explained that I did not want her mowing again until after she gives birth. The ground here is rough, and with the vibration of the mower, I fear she will do an injury to herself or the child. We had words. I raised my voice. She attacked me physically and rather than give vent to my temper, I walked away from her. I returned to the house only minutes before your arrival.” She attacked him? I’d bet that was a sight to see …I’d have paid good money to watch that one.

“What do you mean ‘attacked’ you?”

“The dogs were in the fenced portion of the yard and were upset by our voices. I went to calm them. When I turned my back on her, she jumped on me, and we fell to the ground. When I regained my footing, I walked away and spent some time in the woods to compose myself.”

It’s been my experience that in any dispute in a marriage, there’s his side of it and there’s hers. The truth of it generally lies somewhere in the middle.

DIANA (Reagan’s version of the disagreement)
“Are you all right? We heard what sounded like an argument before you opened the door.”

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing my .32 is still packed in a box in the garage. If it wasn’t, Max would likely be stretched out on a slab in the Ellis Country Morgue by now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I woke up really early and decided to mow the lawn before it got hot. I had it almost done when Max walked out, and when I stopped the mower, he turned it off and took the keys.”

“And?”

“He lifted me bodily off the mower and said I wasn’t allowed near it until after the baby’s born.”

“That doesn’t sound unreasonable to me. They do vibrate a lot …that can’t be good for you or the baby.” I don’t want to think about the look she gave me.

“I tried to reason with him, and he dug in his heels. He informed me that I was his wife and that he expected immediate obedience from me in this matter.”

I laughed. I tried not to but lost the battle before it started. I did manage to speak through my chortles.

“Obedient? You? You have to be kidding me!”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack. He shouted at me, and that got the dogs upset. They were snarling and jumping at the fence – you know how protective they are of me – and he shouted at them. They got more upset, and he started toward the fence and shouted at them again …well, I think he was shouting at the dogs. Fuck if I know …he could have been shouting at me again at that point. I jumped on his back, and we fell into the dirt. When he got up, he walked off and left me sitting there on my arse. He was off sulking somewhere in the trees for two fucking hours.”

I could only imagine what that must have looked like – I’m thinking a schoolyard dust-up scenario – and slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from hooting.

“I see …and you were here sulking in the house.” That got me another look.

“I thought you’d be on my side.” I think I’ll keep my mouth shut. Terry’s the negotiator in our family …maybe he can mediate an amicable settlement.

TERRY
I kept Max outside with his back to the door until I saw Diana and Reags walk into the lounge.

“Okay, Mate, let’s go get this sorted.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said let’s go get this sorted. If you two are still in this mood when Diana and I leave this evening, one of you is likely to walk out the door, and both of you will regret that as long as you live. Let’s find out how good my negotiation skills really are, shall we?”

That got me the first true smile I’d seen from him since Diana and I arrived. I opened the door, and he followed me into the house. I didn’t stop in the lounge but walked through to the dining room, speaking to Reags and Diana as we passed them.

“Dining room table – both of you – now.” They followed, and I pointed Max to one end of the table and Reags to the other. Diana went round the table to the chair across from me. If I was unsuccessful and they went at each other again in a physical manner, she could grab Reags whilst I wrestled Max to the ground.

“Neutral corners established, now sit – both of you.” They sat, as did Diana and I.

“This is going to be a negotiation; negotiations have rules, and I’m setting them.

Rule One:	No sniping or interrupting when your partner is speaking.
Rule Two:	Stick to the FACTS. Personal interpretations of the other’s mind set have no place here. If you need to repeat what was said in the heat of the moment, use the exact words insofar as is possible. I suspect both of you recall precisely what the other said.
Rule Three:	Be civilised and polite. If you feel the need to take off the other’s head verbally, say it to ME, not to him or her.
Rule Four:	Ask questions if you’re unclear on something.
Rule Five:	LISTEN to what the other person is saying. Don’t assume you know what he or she meant.

Reags bristled visibly at that one.

Rule Six:	Be honest and be fair.
Rule Seven:	Find out what the other party actually wants as an outcome.
Rule Eight:	Everything is negotiable.

“Can you two agree on those rules as a foundation for sorting this?” They both nodded …grudgingly, but they nodded.

“Do you both agree that it’s acceptable for me to negotiate a truce here?” They nodded again.

“Can you concur that I’m an appropriate negotiator, and that I’ll make a good faith effort to resolve this with terms both of you can tolerate?” Another pair of nods. Christ, this was like dealing with nippers in a schoolyard.

“Okay, this will be a confidential session; no word of it will ever leave this house. I’m going to start with Max. Reags, that isn’t because I favour his point of view, but because I’m rather sure he told me less than you told Diana. If either of you feel it absolutely necessary to interrupt the other, hold up your hand for permission just as you did when you were in school. Before we begin, let me restate a reality. Both of you have your side to this, and whilst both are valid, the actual truth very likely lies somewhere between your opposing versions.” I turned Max.

“Okay, Mate. Tell your side of it.”

Forty-five minutes later they’d reached an understanding. Max retained the right to worry about Reags and their child and voice his concerns but would refrain from demanding her obedience in the future; the word immediate – or any derivation thereof – would not pass his lips again in conjunction with his wife. Reags agreed to try her best to hold her Irish temper, thus avoiding goading him into a position from which it was difficult for him to retreat. Max agreed not to give her orders in the future. Reags agreed to hear him out and ask calmly why he felt strongly about her doing or not doing certain things.

When Diana and I left them late that evening after undergoing a passive pre-marital counselling session by watching those two, they walked us to the car. They had their arms round each other’s waists and were actually taking the piss with each other again. I looked into the rear view mirror as we drove down the lane. Reags’ arms were round Max’s neck, and his hands were cupping her arse as he leant down to kiss her. I do love my job.

This concludes Renewal.

NOTES
REPRIMERE! Restrain (yourself). In this instance, rather akin to "Shut the fuck up!"

Return to Ongoing Stories

Return to Table of Contents