A Nantucket Wedding(83)

    “Smart,” Jane said.

“It helped keep me from panicking, doing all that stuff. I drank some water. Every so often, I’d yell out for help. I didn’t hear anyone. I had no idea how far I’d fallen or if I was stuck near some kind of trail. I was there ten hours.”

“Ten hours! By yourself, and with a broken arm? Oh, Scott.” Careful not to jiggle his arm, Jane leaned forward to kiss his face. “Scott, you’re alive, you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

“No. Wait, Jane.” Awkwardly, he pushed Jane away.

Her heart stopped. He had pushed her away. He was trying to sit up, and he pushed up with his good right arm until he was slightly tilted toward her. She reached out to help him balance, and they both laughed at how awkward this was, and then he flinched, and she knew he was in pain even with the medication.

She asked, “Did you break anything else?”

“No, but I earned several Technicolor bruises. And my hands are scraped.” He held one hand up to show the reddened palm and fingers. “But that’s nothing. Jane, listen. I need to tell you something.”

“It’s all right, Scott,” Jane said. She wanted to put her hand over his lips to keep him from saying they should divorce. Because she knew that was what he was going to say, that while he’d been curled up in pain and cold alone and lost on a dangerous mountain, he had realized how short life is, and how wrong it was for him, for them, to live with each other when they both knew they wanted different things from life.

    “Jane, listen to me.” Scott clasped her wrist with his good hand. “Look at me. Jane, it was terrifying up there, but it was also extraordinary. As if I’d been lifted away from everyday life and I could think about things with clarity, without interruption. I thought about our last conversation, and how angry I was when I left and how sorry I was that I’d gone off that way, so pompous and self-righteous and inflexible.”

“Scott. Please—”

“And I remembered how you still loved me, after what I told you about my parents. You still wanted to be with me, to have children with me. You were so brave. You are so brave. On the mountain, I knew that when I was rescued I’d tell you I want to have children with you.”

Jane blinked. She was fatigued from traveling, and fuzzy-headed, so had she misheard? “What?”

“Jane, I want to have children with you. I don’t know, call it an epiphany, that’s what people call it, a real come-to-Jesus moment, I thought how much I love you and how if I’d died—no, come on, don’t cry, I didn’t die—but if I had died, I would want to leave something real and unique behind on the earth and that would be a child. Children. Made from you and me. Jane—”

Tears rolled down her cheeks silently, for Jane couldn’t find breath to make a sound. She gulped, trying to stop the tears, trying to control herself. This was so much, this was too much. “Am I dreaming?” she asked. “Is this real? Did you just say you want to have children with me?”

“I did say that. And it’s not the pain medication speaking. All I wanted to do when they found me was call you and tell you, but I was in rough shape when they finally found me. At least I managed to ask the rescue team leader to let you know I’m okay. I can’t begin to pronounce his name. But they got me here and gave me some shots while they yanked my arm back together and put it in a cast. Thank God for them. Thank God for you.”

“Scott,” Jane said, and now she’d found her breath and she was sobbing. “Scott, I don’t have to have children. I want you. I need you. I didn’t realize it, but I did, even before you fell, I missed you so much and I love you so much, so let’s think about it. Let’s get you out of the hospital and home, and then we can talk about it, okay?”

    “Jane. I want children with you. Our children. And talking is not what I want to do to get them.” Scott smiled.

A shiver of surprise laced with lust dazzled its way through Jane’s body. “Oh, my darling, my love, my sweet Scott,” she cried, and she knew she’d never said these sorts of romantic endearments to him before, because that had never been her way, their way. Yet now she could not stop calling him her darling, her dearest, her love. But her tears got her face all wet, so she had to control herself and dig tissue out of her purse and blow her nose. Then, embarrassed by her display of emotion, she smiled sheepishly. “I should let you get some sleep.”

“Yes. You should get some, too.” Scott’s eyelids drooped.

“I—I don’t know what time it is here. I need to find a hotel, an inn for tonight. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Scott told her with a wry smile.

Jane watched her husband sink back into a healing sleep.



* * *



—

In the late afternoon, Felicity was sorting her clothes, seeing what would be best for working with little kids, when her cell buzzed.

“Sweetie,” her mother said, sounding almost giddy, “the gowns are here! Anya brought them. I’m wearing mine and I’m totally fabulous!”

In the background, Anya muttered, “No, I need to let out the waist.”

Alison was euphoric. “What a day this is! Scott’s alive, and Jane’s over in Wales, and my gown is gorgeous!”