In Name Only (50 page)

“A St. Jude medal.  I’ve been having a particularly difficult time with. . . not being able to
engage in. . .  In any event, Father Flaherty gave this to me.  St. Jude is the
patron saint of impossible causes. Father recommended that I pray to St. Jude
when I’m having difficulties.”

“Like when your
wife comes to your room and kisses you as only a wife should?”

“Yes, and when. .
.”

He was
interrupted by the distant sounds of baby John wailing.

“Just a minute,
David.  I must attend to John.”

At the door to
the nursery, Jane was rocking the baby.  “I’ll take him, Jane.”

“Very well.  I
think he’s cutting a tooth.”

Caroline returned
with the baby, rocking and swaying him back and forth.  His high-pitched
screams pierced the silence of the house.

“Miss Caroline,
are you sure you don’t want me to take him?”  she could hear Jane say from
behind her.

“Give him to me,”
David said to his wife, “you still need your rest at night.”  Then to Jane he
said, “You may go back to bed.”

“Of course, Mr.
David.”

Caroline
carefully placed the child in David’s arms. He laid the baby over one shoulder
and began to hum and gently move back and forth. 

John’s screams
soon became whimpers.  In a few moments, the baby had settled.

“David?”

“Yes?”

“I. . .happened
to  overhear a conversation that Patsie and Jane were having.”

“About what?”

“About preventing
a woman from. . .being with child.”

David’s eyes
darkened.  He continued to gently sway back and forth, lulling John back to
sleep.

“She said, well,
that you could. . .well, come out before you. . .”

He shook his
head.  “That doesn’t always work, Caroline,” he said, his voice now with a hard
edge to it. “And it’s wrong.  You know, in the Bible, in the book of Genesis,
there’s a man named Onan. . .”

“I’m familiar
with Onan.”

“Then you know
that he was called upon, quite coincidentally, to unite with his sister-in-law
after his brother died, so that his dead brother would have heirs.  Well, he
didn’t want the children to be considered his brother’s, so, as the Bible says,
he ‘spilled his seed.’  And the Lord killed him.

“Caroline, if I
did that, it would mean that I would be withholding a part of myself, and I
can’t do that.”

All of a sudden,
the whole passage in Genesis became more clear to Caroline.  And how was it
that they had never discussed this particular passage in their nighttime
readings and discussions of the Bible? It seemed ironic to her that she hadn’t
fully understood that story in all these years.

He was standing
near her, the baby still in his arms. The sight of him showing such tenderness
and patience to their son filled her heart with overwhelming affection and
joy.  She wished that she could unite with him, to feel him close to her.

“You can’t begin
to know how difficult this is for me, Caroline.”  He paused.  “I lie in bed at
night and ache for you, to simply be beside you, to become one with you.  It’s
not just at night that I have. . . difficulties.” baby John began to fuss and
whimper.

“Shhh.”  He
started to hum, then stopped.  “Caroline, we are one whether or not we are
sharing a bed. In fact, our union has more integrity now than if we became
intimate and I ‘spilled my seed.’” David continued rocking back and forth, the
baby asleep on his shoulder.  He turned to her, his expression loving and
tender, but firm.  “When we begin sharing our marriage bed again, I want to be
able to give my entire body to you, without reservation.”

Caroline studied
her husband, in awe of the transformation he had experienced in a few short
years.

“I don’t want to
return to the life I used to live, Caroline.  I was not truly free, but a slave
to sin.  I had no self-control. Now, I do.  I promised to keep you from being
with child, no matter how difficult.”

“But can we still
be close?”

“Close? We are
close.  We talk, sometimes for hours at a time.  We play chess, we go to the
art museum, discuss Holy Scripture.  I know how much you love me and that’s
worth more to me than sharing our bed.

“Caroline, this
is difficult for me, more than you can ever know.  But there isn’t any other
option right now.  And you’re still tired and weak most of the time.”

“I’m much
better.  I can now make it through the day with minimal napping.”

Still holding
baby John, David leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead.  “I never
believed I would have — could have enough self-control. A real man loves his
wife enough to protect her.” His voice was measured and confident.  “I would
never, ever use you for a moment of pleasure.”

“Good night,
David.”  As she faced him, baby John still sleeping on his shoulder, he looked
at her with such tenderness and love. Caroline knew that she couldn’t ask for
anything else in a spouse.  And for that, she was truly thankful.

Chapter 62

David pretended
to be listening carefully as Edward Martin rambled on about money markets and
other financial commodities. He nodded every so often to give the impression
that he was being attentive and, certainly, Edward was family and David did not
want to be impolite.  It was a dull conversation, to be sure, and he was
thankful for the boredom, although it would have been better if Edward’s drab
discourse actually distracted him.

It had now been a
year since John was born and Caroline nearly died: over a year without sexual
intimacy and no release except for the occasional night dream.  The past two
weeks had been especially torturous for him.  It was difficult enough when
Caroline was weak and convalescing.  Now that she was stronger, it was becoming
increasingly arduous for him.

To make matters
worse, he had been having dreams, which he would not necessarily classify as
nightmares but they were of a most sensual, erotic sort, filled with images
from his past intimate experiences.  He woke up many nights unable to breathe.

“Last year, I
invested $500. At the end of the year, I had made nearly $200 more." Uncle
Edward took the last puff of his cigar. “And with little or no risk.”

David nodded,
forcing a smile.  “Well done, sir.”

“David,” he said,
“I suppose I should find Elizabeth and we ought to be returning home.”  Uncle
Edward stomped his cigar out in the ashtray beside him, then both men stood up.

“Yes, of course.”

David waited at
the doorway to allow Edward to proceed ahead of him into the foyer.  The clock
was letting out a chime for the quarter hour.  Elizabeth and Caroline were
standing just inside the parlor doorway.

“Papa, are we
leaving already?”

“Yes, Elizabeth. It’s getting late.” He glanced at his pocket watch.  “It’s 10:15 and I have some
work to do.”

“But it’s Sunday,
Papa.  It’s supposed to be a day of rest.”

“I know, but I
need to prepare some papers for tomorrow and your cousin needs to retire.”

“Thank you,
Uncle.  But I don’t appear to need as much sleep these days.  I seem to be
almost back to my normal self.”

“That’s good, my
dear.  But we really do need to be leaving.”

The two said
their goodbyes and left.

“I’m going
upstairs to bed. Good night, David.” She kissed his cheek and when she stepped
back, she regarded him with tender affection. 

He forced himself
to look away from her, at the ceiling, at the floor, anything but her.  His
pulse was racing. His mind thought about how they used to lie together in bed,
their bodies touching, skin to skin, satisfied.  “Goodnight, Caroline,” he
managed to whisper, now glancing up at her face. She was just looking away from
him, then she turned and quickly climbed the stairs.

When she was out
of sight, he let out a sigh that was as long as a sentence.  “One more year. 
How am I going to do this? Please, please help me.” Then he listened as a dark
voice whispered into his consciousness. 
She’s your wife, you deserve to
have her. Besides, you can withdraw before you’ve finished.  She won’t become
with child and you will have your release.  And no one needs to know
. “Yes,”
he answered the voice, “that’s what Onan thought and I know what happened to
him.”

He shook his head
to rid himself of the voice. 
God, give me the grace to resist the
temptation.
David returned to the study, extinguished the lamps and went
upstairs.

*  *  *

Caroline placed
the book on her bedside table.  She had been having trouble sleeping over the
last night or so, although John, now a year old, was waking less frequently at
night. Perhaps now she no longer required so much rest.

She recalled her
goodnight kiss to David earlier this evening, and it took most of her
self-control to leave him standing in the foyer.  She could tell that he was
having a difficult time.  She knew him well enough to know that he would have
liked nothing better than to carry her up to his room. Recently, there were
times when he had been snappy and short with her, no doubt stemming from the
tension he was experiencing.  But they had succeeded in abstaining from the
marital act for more than a year now.  Not only had they survived the
experience, their relationship, for the most part, was flourishing.  It just
didn’t include physical intimacy.

She tried to
sleep for nearly half an hour before she finally got up and pulled on her robe
and slippers.  Taking the lamp from her bureau, she went into the hallway.  She
passed Kathleen’s room, her door open slightly, and she could hear her
daughter’s loud breathing. 

At her son’s
room, she listened at the closed door, but could not hear John. She turned the
knob slowly.  The door’s quiet creaking stopped her from opening it wider. 
Faint moonlight streamed in through the window and landed like a square on the
floor beside his crib.  Holding the lamp up, she watched his small leg move and
heard him sucking his thumb.  Small reassurances, but now satisfied, Caroline quietly
shut the door, endeavoring to minimize its creak and click. She waited for a
minute or so to ensure that she hadn’t woken him up.

I’ll just slip
down the back staircase and into the kitchen for a cup of tea
.  Passing by
David’s door, sounds of moaning stopped her from moving on. Caroline pressed
her ear against the door and listened.
He’s having a nightmare
.  Pushing
the door open, she held the light up and could see him sleeping on his back,
chin facing the ceiling, mouth open.

Caroline set the
lamp down on David’s dresser and stood beside him.  “Shhh,” she softly said,
reaching her hand out to caress his head.  He bolted upright. Caroline gasped. 
“David, are you all right?”

“Yes, I. . .”

“I heard you from
the hallway.”

For a moment, she
stood silent and unmoving. He appeared to be attempting to catch his breath but
he was avoiding eye contact.  When he finally brought his eyes to hers, she
recognized his expression of desire.  Her mind knew that she ought to return to
her own room, but her heart admitted that her longing, her need, was bursting
at the seams too.  And it had been so long.

She cleared her
throat and sat down beside him on the bed. 

“Caroline,” he
said, his voice low and raspy.

“Yes, David, I’m
your wife and I. . .love. . .”

He cut her off
with a kiss that let loose a year and a half of denial.  She welcomed it: his
taste, his being, his entire self.  Within moments, they became lost in each
other’s arms, beginning to surrender to all of their desires and needs.  Just
one night.  One night to ease the waiting. One brief. . .

Abruptly, David
stopped and jumped from the bed.  He stood near the fireplace, the catch of his
breath the only sound in the room. Caroline sat up and pulled her robe on. 

He turned slowly
and walked toward her.  “I had every intention of. . .”

“I know. Me as
well.”

“I can’t believe
I was going to, and that you were going to. . .”

“Yes, David. 
It’s been over a year and a half.  It would only be once.”

“I made a vow to
protect you, Caroline.  And I was about to break that vow.”

She lowered her
head and remained silent.

“Come here,” he
said as he pulled her to his chest. He lifted his head toward the crucifix on
the wall above his bed and made the Sign of the Cross.

“Almighty
Father,” he prayed, “Give us Thy grace to be strong.”  Her head on his chest,
she listened to the beating of his heart.

Chapter 63

Caroline admired
the green dress in the shop’s window.  She tilted her head and studied the gown
with its intricately embroidered black thread pattern in the bodice and subtle
design in the skirt.  It was finely made and would be ideal for Christmas Mass
in two and a half months.  However, she already owned far too many dresses and
this purchase would merely be an indulgence.