18

“You don’t want children?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want them. I said I couldn’t have them.”

April couldn’t grasp what he was trying to tell her. “But why?”

Mark’s eyes clouded. “It’s the CF. Guys who have CF are sterile. We can never father children.”

April felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. How could it? she wondered. “I didn’t know.”

He held her eyes with his gaze. “Does it make a difference?”

“I’m not sure,” April answered slowly. “Having babies isn’t something I’ve thought a lot about. I mean, my friends and I used to talk about it. Once, one of my friends thought she might be pregnant. It turned out that she wasn’t, but it really made me stop and think what it would be like to have a baby.”

“Well, you’ll never have to worry about an unwanted pregnancy with me. That’s for sure.” Mark sounded bitter. “But please tell me if it’s going to make a difference for us. If children are so important that you no longer want to marry me.”

April chose her words carefully. “What bothers me most is that you didn’t tell me.”

“When would I have?”

“When you gave me the ring?”

He gave a short humorless laugh. “Sure. That would have made the night memorable: ‘Will you marry me, and oh, by the way, I can’t ever have kids.’ ”

“Mark, once I saw all your medicine bottles, the oxygen tank, all that stuff—well, that might have been a perfect time to have had a heart-to-heart about CF. I asked you to let me learn how to do your thumps, and at first you said no. You’ve had plenty of chances to talk about it.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Well, if that was going to break up our relationship, then we didn’t have much going for us, did we?” she asked quietly.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, and when he looked at her, he looked ashamed. “I underestimated you, April.”

“You’ve done that a lot.”

“I’m sorry.”

She felt tears sting her eyes. “I’m sorry too, Mark. I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to be honest.”

He squared his shoulders and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “I never wanted anything as much as I wanted you. The odds are pretty good that you’ll outlive me, April.” He raised a hand to stop her protest. “No, hear me out. It’s the truth and we both know it. I’m not afraid of dying, but there’s a lot of living I want to do before death catches up with me. You are part of that living. I want you. I have from the first time I saw you. But if having children is a dream of yours, I can’t give it to you, no matter how much I want to.”

In that moment, April saw her life stretching in front of her without Mark. The image was so bleak, she shuddered. Losing him eventually was inevitable. Nothing could stop it from happening. But she couldn’t let him go now, not under any circumstances. With a catch in her voice, she said, “The only thing that’s important to me is loving you.”

He closed the space between them with a long stride and took her in his arms. “I love you, April. I love you more than anything in this world.”

When her mother returned from her trip, April decided she would have to discuss the wedding with her, whether her mother wanted to hear it or not. She wanted her mother’s help. She needed her mother’s help.

So one bright October afternoon, April stopped at the antique store. She opened the door. A bell tinkled delicately and the scent of old furniture, lemon oil, and silver polish hung in the air. She loved the store. When she had been a little girl, she used to go to work with her mother and play among the antique furniture. Tapestries hung on walls alongside gilded sconces. There were expensive Oriental carpets, armoires, richly carved chairs, and old-world furniture that turned the floor space into a wonderful maze. Overhead a series of crystal chandeliers, some more than a hundred years old, evoked images of elegant ballrooms and velvet gowns. Tables were draped with fine lace and crisp linen and held ornate silver bowls, fine English porcelain, and cut crystal vases filled with bouquets of freshly cut flowers.

“April! How nice to see you,” Caroline, her mother’s partner, called out. “How are you?”

April embraced the slender brown-haired woman. “I’m fine. The shop looks wonderful.”

“Thanks to your mother. She’s found some positively fabulous Shaker-style furniture. She’s in the back inventorying it right now. She tells me you’re getting married. Congratulations.”

April was surprised that Caroline announced the news so happily. “Thanks.”

“I’m so pleased for you. You look around the shop and pick out a gift for yourself. Anything you want.” Caroline patted her arm.

Caroline’s offer stunned April. She hadn’t expected her to be so enthusiastic, especially knowing the way her mother felt. “Thank you! I’ll bring Mark some afternoon and we’ll choose something together.”

“April!” Her mother came out of the store’s back room.

“Hi, Mom.”

Caroline said, “You two visit and I’ll go work on the inventory.”

Once they were alone, April’s mother asked, “What brings you here?”

“I was doing some wedding dress shopping and thought I’d stop by.” She hated that her tone sounded challenging, but she couldn’t help it.

“Have you found something you like?”

“Actually, I have. Several, in fact. I need another opinion.”

“Would you like mine?”

April held her breath, hoping that she and her mother could come to terms. She didn’t like being at odds with her parents. “Yes. I’d like yours very much.”

Her mother walked to the back of the store and minutes later returned with her trench coat. “I told Caroline I wouldn’t be back today.”

“Are you sure?”

Their gazes locked. “My only daughter is getting married soon. I can’t let any opportunity go by to help with her wedding.” Her mother hugged April, then held her at arm’s length. Her mother’s eyes shimmered.

A lump rose in April’s throat. She realized how much it meant to her to have her mother’s support—even a little. “Thanks, Mom.”

“So do you have any particular dress you’d like to show me first?” Her mother opened the door, and the bell sounded its silvery notes.

“There’s one in a shop six blocks away.”

“Let’s go look at it. Shall I grab us a cab?”

April smiled, looped her arm through her mother’s, and said, “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s walk.”

Together they headed down the crowded sidewalk, the crisp October afternoon fairly crackling around them.

Her parents’ unexpected support was a wonderful and welcome surprise. They threw themselves wholeheartedly into planning her wedding. “Can we stick to some kind of a budget?” April’s father asked cautiously.

April and her mother looked at each other and burst out laughing. “A budget!” her mother exclaimed. “Oh, really, Hugh, you’re so funny. I wouldn’t dream of sticking to a budget.”

He groaned, and April winked at him, as if to say, It’s okay, Daddy. I won’t go, crazy on you.

April’s and Mark’s parents met to discuss plans and sort through details. April and Mark decided to take them to their favorite restaurant early on the afternoon of Mark’s final race for the season. “We’ll eat, attack the wedding plans, then we’ll all go to the track together,” Mark declared.

“I know I can get my parents to go to the track,” April told him, “but can you persuade your mother?”

“She’s already agreed. She’s not turning handsprings, mind you, but she wants to make a good impression on your parents. Refusing to go with the rest of us might be interpreted the wrong way.”

So they all arrived at the track together. Mark’s father was talkative and beaming; his mother looked nervous. April’s parents were curious to see firsthand Mark’s obsession with fast cars. Once they were settled in the grandstands, April went down on the infield, where Mark was climbing into his birthday coveralls. “You look just like a pro,” she said, checking him over from head to toe.

“Thanks to you. At least the weather’s cooled off. These things are hot.” He tucked his helmet under his arm.

“I’m glad you’re driving in the first heat. I don’t think your mother can stand too much of this.”

“Well, if I win, everyone still has to stick around for the finals.”

“I’ll make sure no one bolts.”

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re one in a million.”

“Just remember that when you discover I can’t cook.”

He untied her scarf and retied it around his arm. “For luck.”

She smiled. “See you in the winner’s circle.”

Back in the stands, April had to shout to be heard above the roar of the cars as they looped the track, waiting for the green flag to drop. She felt a surge of pride as Mark’s car nosed a path through the staggered string of starters.

The flag dropped and the cars shot forward. April heard her father shout, “Go for it!”

“It’s awesome, huh?” she yelled above the roar of the engines as the cars rocketed around the track. “Keep your eye on Mark and watch how he snakes out the other drivers,” she yelled in her mother’s ear. “He’s really good at this.”

She watched expectantly as Mark drafted behind the leader, knowing that in a split second he would floor the accelerator and zip past his opponent. She saw him make his move. But suddenly the lead car swerved. Its engine made a popping sound, and smoke billowed from beneath its hood. She heard Mark’s father shout, “The guy’s blown an engine!”

She leaped up, watching in horror, as Mark’s car clipped the other car’s back fender. Mark’s car spun out of control, slammed into the retaining wall, flipped, and caught fire.