Page 59 of Say Something
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“Can I make you dinner tonight?” Danny asked as he started up the truck. He turned the heater knob on high, and I sighed in appreciation as the warm air brushed over my cold skin. I hadn’t realized I was shivering. The rain was icy cold.
Remembering he’d asked me a question, I glanced over at him. “What’s on the menu?” I teased, since we hadn’t caught any fish. Whenever he’d gone fishing in the past, he always cooked what he caught for dinner that night.
He stared out the windshield, and I watched as the shadows of the raindrops moved down his face. It made him look like a painting, an old-fashioned portrait. Hewasperfect enough to be a work of art. Always had been.
“I’ve got some steaks in the freezer at home. We can swing by the farm stand on the way and grab some vegetables to grill.” He still wasn’t looking at me. It was as though he was protecting himself from the rejection he was sure would follow.
“That sounds perfect,” I told him. His eyes darted to mine, questions on the tip of his tongue. “Let’s go,” I said, patting the dashboard. “Just in case the farmers get it in their heads to close early due to the rain.”
He popped the truck into gear and spun the tires as he drove away from the landing, spraying gravel behind him.
“In a hurry?” I asked, laughing.
“I figure I better get a move on before you change your mind.”
I knew he was joking, but my shoulders still slumped. Had I been that awful to him? I knew the answer to that question. Yes, yes I had been that awful to him. Refusing to speak to him while we were married, and again now.
It was time, wasn’t it?
“Danny,” I started. I wasn’t really sure what to say, but I guessed the beginning was as good a place as any.
“Yeah, Jess?” He quickly glanced at me, then returned his eyes to the road.
“I’m not really sure how to say everything I want to say, so just bear with me, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed.
“And don’t say anything until I’m done. If you interrupt me…”
“Just say what you’ve got to say, Jessie.” He didn’t say it in an exasperating way, just encouraging.
I sighed heavily.
Here goes nothing.
I closed my eyes and spoke.
“Our infertility really messed with my head,” I said. Getting those first few words out…admitting that to him...it was tough, but a relief at the same time. I knew he knew it messed me up, but I had to tell him thatIknew it, too. “Something your mom said really resonated with me. I went through years of therapy, and a few minutes with your mom had me seeing more clearly than ever before,” I laughed softly. “We never had any conflicts in our relationship when we were growing up. Everything was so easy. It was easy to fall in love with you, to stay in love with you. We excelled in school—both high school and college. We bought our first house, got our first adult jobs…all with no problems. It was wonderful. Our life was perfect. No hiccups, no roadblocks…no problems.
“Then, all of a sudden, there’s this problem that’s larger than life, you know? Like, how can there possibly be anything wrong when everything else was always so right? It made me question everything I ever thought I knew. I didn’t trust myself. I thought I had to be wrong, that I was seeing our entire life through rose colored glasses because how could anything else be right if we couldn’t make a baby? Not all women—not allpeople—can go to law school and graduate at the top of their class. But any woman who wanted to get pregnant should have been able to get pregnant. It’s basic biology. Jesus…I’m not even sure I truly knew what infertility was until a few months had gone by, and I still wasn’t pregnant.”
Danny’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white. I could tell not saying anything was bothering him, but I pressed on. I had to get it out.
“I was so bothered by everything, and I internalized all of it. I blamed myself. I hated myself. I was broken, dysfunctional. I was made wrong. I even had misguided anger towards my parents because they’re the ones who made me, and they obviously didn’t do it right because something was so very wrong. I was mad-“ I sniffled, fighting back the tears. “I was mad at you, too, because you weren’t broken like I was.”
Danny turned in his seat to face me, then reached across the console and took my hand in his. He’d stopped the truck on the side of the road. “Look at me,” he said. “You’re not broken. You’re not dysfunctional or made wrong. Damn it, Jessie, you are perfect. You have always been perfect to me, even when you thought you weren’t.”
His tone was tender, yet final. He was letting me know what he thought,what he knew, and that there was no sense in arguing with him. His unfailing loyalty caused me to break. I snapped like a dry twig.
“I took everything out on you,” I said as I began to cry.
He leaned over the console and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me over the gear shift and onto his lap. “Baby, it’s okay,” he said, shushing me as he ran one of his hands over my upper back in small, soothing circles while the other hand held me tightly around the small of my back.
“It’s not okay,” I argued. It wasn’t okay. It would neverbeokay. “What I did to you…the things I said…they were unforgivable.”
He framed my face in his hands and brought my tear-filled gaze to his. He shook his head. “Nothing in love is unforgivable, Jessie. Nothing.”
Then he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me. And I let him.
