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“Hello?”
“Alma?”
“I’m here. What is it?”
“I’m sorry I called so late. But I can’t … I can’t sleep. Is it okay if I come over?”
“Of course. Are you sure you’re okay to travel? I can come see you if you prefer.”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
But of course that didn’t stop her from worrying as she waited for her fiancé. He usually went to bed early, and he never called her this late at night. She decided to make some tea, thinking that it would be ready by the time he arrived and trying not to dwell on the weariness in his voice.
He stood awkwardly in the doorway with red-rimmed eyes. She didn’t know if sleep deprivation or crying was the cause, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Hoping that he would tell her what was on his mind when he was ready, she welcomed him in and sat him down on the couch. A cup of tea awaited him on the table, but he paid it no mind.
She sat beside him. “Dan, what’s wrong?”
He lowered his gaze to the floor, his eyes vacant, and wrung his hands absentmindedly. He looked like he had something he wanted to say but physically could not get himself to talk, and his unwillingness to look at her worsened her nerves.
She gave his upper arm a gentle squeeze. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
He took a shaky breath and forced himself to open his eyes and look at her. “My uncle has cancer.”
Her heart sank, and she felt her body stiffen. Not Jonathan. Anyone but him. Was it not enough for Daniel to lose his father? Must he lose his father figure, too? “Is … is there anything they can do?”
“No. They can’t do anything but offer him painkillers.”
“Jesus. Dan, I’m so sorry.”
“We don’t know how much time he has. But the doctor said no more than three months.”
She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? How could she offer words of sympathy when they were both in shock? But the silence was unbearable, and she had to break it before she screamed. She glanced at the cup on the table and said, “It’s chamomile. Do you want some? My mum always made it when I was sick.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
She rubbed his upper arm slowly, unsure whether he wanted a hug. He sat almost completely still, seeming to take no solace in her touch, but she persisted until he started to tense up. So she withdrew her hand with one last shoulder squeeze.
The squeeze reduced him to sobbing almost instantly. He buried his face onto her chest and clung to her for dear life, his body shaking from the intensity of his cries. Tears fell from her eyes in turn as she held him, but for his sake she stifled her sobs and forced herself to weep in silence. She kept one hand on his back and the other on the back of his head, whispering that she was here and that it was all right.
The last thing Alma wanted was for Daniel to feel ashamed for crying, but as he broke their embrace there was no hiding the shame on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said as he wiped his eyes, ignoring her shaking head. “I shouldn’t have come. I’ll leave you alone.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” The words came out more harshly than she would have liked, but she couldn’t let him drive while he stayed in this state.
“No. This should have waited until tomorrow. I’ve disturbed you enough.”
“Honey, it’s late, and you are distressed. Please stay the night.”
He wanted to object again, worrying that his staying would cause her even more inconvenience, but the insistence in her voice, the pleading in her eyes, and the tear tracks on her cheeks silenced that desire. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
Yes, that’s what I want.” After wiping her eyes, she added, “Are you sure you don’t want any chamomile? It helps me sleep, and the kettle is still on.”
It was clear that she wanted him to have some, so he relented. The warmth offered at least a little comfort.
They had not yet shared a bed, but Alma didn’t want to leave him alone at a time like this, not even to sleep in separate bedrooms. Both were willing to endure the temporary unfamiliarity of sharing a bed so that they wouldn’t have to sleep on their own.
The tea had relaxed him a little, and as they settled into bed he found himself deeply grateful for her company. Even if his sorrow kept him from sleeping as much as he usually did, he had the comfort of her presence, and he trusted that she likewise found comfort in him.
“I’m here for you,” she said. “Whatever you need, I will do it.”
He thanked her gave her a kiss, and his eyes fluttered shut as she stroked his hair.
As Alma lay awake, she was struck with a selfish thought: What about their wedding? If they married on their planned day, Jonathan would be either dead or too sick to attend the ceremony.
Or perhaps those worries weren’t selfish. Jonathan may as well have been Daniel’s father. He was one of the kindest souls Alma had ever known; in some ways she felt closer to him than to her own father. He always deserved happiness and reprieve from his cares, now more than ever.
Perhaps the church would allow them to marry at an earlier date. The priest had told them that the church had fewer booked weddings than usual due to the poor economy, so perhaps changing the date wouldn’t be too difficult.
But, of course, that decision was not hers alone to make. She had to stay level-headed, and they had to do what was best for both families. This could wait until morning, when everyone had gotten at least a little sleep.
It was difficult to discern Daniel’s face fully in the darkness, but he was asleep as far as she could tell. And if his dreams turned bleak, at least he would wake up beside her. Sleep soon took her in turn, and despite the sadness of the circumstances, his presence in her bed felt right.
She was the first to wake. Rather than go back to sleep, she decided to make some breakfast. It wouldn’t be much, but that didn’t matter. She was happy to let Daniel sleep in, and she could only hope that making breakfast wouldn’t cause him to feel that she was coddling him. She knew she had inherited her mother’s tendency to be well-intentioned but overbearing in times of trouble, and she had no wish to subject her fiancé to that.
But that fear was put aside when he came into the dining room looking surprisingly well-rested. “Thank you for letting me stay,” he said as he spread some butter on a slice of bread. “I’m sorry that I called so late; I must have worried you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, pouring him some tea. “Dan, I was thinking…”