Eleven
Disappointments
D onnalee should have known. Sanford was too perfect. Too wonderful.
And this evening, she found that out.
He’d cooked her a fabulous dinner aboard his houseboat on Lake Union. The Seattle skyline and the snow-capped Olympic Mountains had served as a romantic backdrop. Afterward, when the sun had set and they’d finished their meal, they sat in front of the fireplace, cuddling. She leaned against the solid strength of his chest and he wrapped his arms about her. Every now and again, he’d bend forward to kiss her neck, taste her, tell her how beautiful she was. How desirable.
But now she understood why he’d never responded whenever she made comments about children or talked about family. Why he’d seemed distant.
He didn’t want children. She loved him, yet they wanted different things.
“Surely this doesn’t come as a surprise,” he prodded gently.
That he would even ask told her how little he knew her. “It does, Sanford. It comes as a shock.”
“But if I’d wanted a family I would have married years ago. When I contacted Dateline I was specific about the type of woman I wanted. One who’s as career-oriented as I am. One without children.”
“But I want a family. That’s the reason I decided to go ahead with the dating service. I’ve always wanted children.”
Sanford released his breath slowly and leaned forward to rest his forehead on her shoulder. She felt his frustration as keenly as she did her own.
“Oh, Donnalee, I never dreamed this would be a problem.”
“I don’t know what to say.” A heavy sadness weighed on her heart. There could be no compromise for them.
“I’ve never seen myself as a father,” Sanford insisted. “I have no desire to bring children into this world.”
“Perhaps in time?”
“No.” His voice was adamant, final. “I’m afraid this isn’t something I’m willing or able to negotiate. I feel very strongly about it, always have. That’s the reason I went ahead and had a vasectomy a few years back.”
Donnalee felt as though her heart had gone into a spiraling free fall. A vasectomy. He’d felt so certain about not having children that he’d had a vasectomy?
“I’m crazy about you, Donnalee,” he whispered into her hair. “I don’t want to lose you.”
All these years she’d waited for a man like Sanford. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of finding. It excited her that he seemed to care for her just as deeply. He was a considerate lover, gentle and eager. He’d be a perfect husband.
But not as perfect as she’d once thought.
“Say something,” he urged, sounding anxious. His grip on her shoulders tightened. “It worries me when you’re this quiet.”
“I’ve…always wanted a family.” She knew she was repeating herself, but it was the only thing she could say.
“We won’t need children. We’ll invest all the energy a family would require in each other. We’ll build our dreams around each other and enjoy the freedom other couples our age will never know.” He spoke softly, persuasively of the future, painting a glittering picture of what their lives would be.
Donnalee closed her eyes and tried to let his fantasy carry her away. Tried to make herself accept his vision of the future. She tried, she honestly did. But what he described sounded shallow and empty to her.
They’d never argued before, never found themselves in opposing camps. So this, she realized, was a true test of how they would settle their differences.
“What if I said I couldn’t continue to see you if you didn’t agree to having the vasectomy reversed?”
He stiffened momentarily. “I don’t want to think about that.”
“I don’t, either,” she whispered. Then, because she was afraid, she twisted around to face him. “Kiss me, Sanford. Hurry, please, show me how much you love me.”
He answered her urgent demand with a hunger of his own, sliding her body down onto the thick carpet and lowering his mouth to hers. Soon they were panting and needy, eager to bridge whatever kept them apart. There had to be a solution. She’d find one, Donnalee vowed, rather than lose Sanford.
They never did make it to the bedroom. Their lovemaking was wild and abandoned, right there on the living-room carpet, with the log fire spitting and hissing beside them. Tears glistened in her eyes when they were finished, but she didn’t let Sanford see.
It was in those moments of passion that Donnalee had finally grasped what was wrong. She loved Sanford and he loved her, but he held back a part of himself. While he gave her his body, he held back his heart—his deepest feelings. While his body filled and satisfied hers, he kept her at arm’s length emotionally.
Now she knew why. Only when she relinquished her dreams would he commit himself wholly to her.
If then. If ever.
She understood that their relationship would have to be on his terms. Either she accepted them or broke this off now, before it went any further.
Donnalee closed her eyes and breathed in the warm musky scent of the man she loved. Children weren’t everything, she told herself. She could pamper and lavish attention on her sister’s brood, and eventually Hallie would marry and start a family. She’d love her sister’s children and those of her friends; she’d make do. Sanford was right. They didn’t need anyone but each other.
“You’re quiet again,” Sanford whispered, then kissed her gently, stirring the fires he’d so recently quenched. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“I need to know, Donnalee.” He took hold of her hands, interlocking their fingers, and pressed them against the carpet. Slowly he positioned himself above her. Their eyes met in the firelight.
“I love you, Sanford.”
“I love you.”
The urgency in his voice thrilled her. “If you don’t want a family, then I have to accept that,” she finally whispered.
She saw the relief in his eyes, the gratitude.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, kissing her over and over. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. “We don’t need children, we never will, not when we have each other.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He made love to her again, and this time he gave her everything she wanted—unreservedly gave her all that was in his heart.
Donnalee recognized this.
But she still felt empty inside.