The Promise (5 page)

 8 

“Did he say why they call these the Spanish Steps?” Marilyn whispered.

Jim turned. “I don't think so. Want me to ask him?” He turned back to face their tour guide, who continued to explain why this fascinating landmark was so famous. His Italian accent was thick but mostly understandable. The stairs were fairly crowded with tourists stopping to take pictures at various levels along the way.

“This is considered to be the widest staircase in all of Europe, not just Rome,” he said. “The 138 stone steps rise from the Piazza di Spagna, or the Spanish Square, to the upper piazza named after the magnificent church you see at the top. Poets and painters have been captivated by the architectural beauty of these steps for over two centuries.”

“See? He just explained why,” Jim said.

“No, he didn't,” she said quietly. “He just said it begins at this piazza, called the Spanish Square. But why do they call it the Spanish Square? This is Italy.” She looked at the large pots full of beautiful purple azaleas and the attractive old buildings that rose up on either side.

Jim laughed. Obviously he didn't know the answer to her
questions and wasn't too concerned, but he still raised his hand on her behalf.

“Yes, Signore. A question?”

“Could you explain why they call this the Spanish Square and the steps the Spanish Steps?”

“Certainly, a very good question. The steps were named for the nearby Spanish Embassy to the Vatican, which was established in the seventeenth century. The embassy is still here to this day. Are there any more questions?”

Jim looked over at Marilyn. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” she said and squeezed his arm affectionately.

No one asked any more questions. The tour guide looked at his watch and said, “We'll wait here for about twenty minutes in case anyone would like to climb the steps and take pictures. There's a beautiful view of the Piazza di Spagna from there
.
For those lacking the energy to make such a climb, you might enjoy taking pictures right over there by the fountain.”

With that, the tour group began to break up.

“Are you up for climbing the steps?” Jim asked.

Marilyn looked to the top. She wanted to, but they had already been walking for hours, touring the Colosseum and the Roman Forum before lunch. After this they were supposed to tour St. Peter's Basilica. Clearly, her four weeks of training on the treadmill were not nearly enough. “Remember that episode of
Everybody Loves Raymond
, the one where they took the Italy trip?”

Jim thought a moment, nodded his head, and smiled. “You mean the one when Raymond was standing at this very spot and asked, ‘Where is the Spanish Elevator?'”

She nodded. “Do you mind? I can wait here if you'd like to go up.”

“I'm sure the view is great, but I didn't come here for the view. I came here to spend time with you.” He led her to one corner of the steps and positioned her in front of a beautiful azalea bush.
“I'll stand back here so I can get an angle with the steps over your left shoulder. Then maybe we'll get a few pics by the fountain.”

“After that, do you mind if we sit on the steps for a little bit?”

“Not at all, I could use the break too.”

Marilyn still wasn't used to how flexible Jim had become. She loved it, but it was so unlike the man she'd married and lived with for so many years. Jim would have insisted they go up the steps and take in the view. “We've come all this way,” he'd have said. “Let's just push it.” Or at the very least, he would've run up there on his own and left her here at the bottom.

Another couple in their thirties watched Jim taking her picture by the azaleas and volunteered to take one of them as a couple, which was great. Jim stood behind Marilyn, put his arms around her, and drew her close. After, Jim offered to take the couple's picture, an offer they happily accepted. “Do you mind after this,” he said, “if we do the same thing over there by the fountain?”

“That would be great,” the husband said. “That's one of the problems of going on these trips. Most of the pictures have just one of us in it.”

“Well, how about we fix that?” Jim said. “We can do this throughout the rest of the trip if you'd like, as long as we're near each other. That way we'll have plenty of pics to take home with us as couples.” They shook hands and introduced themselves to each other. The younger couple's names were Brian and Amanda. Brian gave Jim his camera, then he and his wife struck a pose in front of the azalea bush.

Marilyn's cell phone rang. “Jim, it's Michele.” She and Michele had been missing each other on the phone ever since they'd left Florida.

“Well, you can go ahead and take it. I'll be here for a couple of minutes. Then I'll take the pictures of them over by the fountain.”

Marilyn answered the phone as she walked a few steps away to a quieter spot. “Michele, good to hear your voice.”

“Good to hear you too, Mom. Can't believe how far away you are.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine.”

“How is Doug doing? Have you been able to check in with him?”

“Allan and I had him over for dinner last night. He seemed just like Doug. You know how he is, it's like pulling teeth to get him to open up. But he seems fine. We're going to have him over every other night until you guys get home.”

“Thanks so much for doing that. How are you and Allan doing?” Marilyn asked.

“That's why I called. I have some exciting news.”

She's pregnant, Marilyn thought. What else could it be? Michele and Allan had only been married seven months, but she knew Michele wanted to be a mom in the worst way. She looked over at Jim, now at the fountain taking pictures of that young couple. “Okay, I'm ready.”

“Well, after Doug left, Allan and I got to talking. I'm not even sure how we got into it. Maybe I was talking about the little kids in my kindergarten class.” Michele had graduated back in December with a degree in elementary education, but so far she'd only been able to get work as a substitute teacher. “Oh I know,” Michele continued. “I just mentioned another teacher at my school is moving away at the end of this month. I told Allan I was thinking about talking to the principal to see if she might hire me full time to take her place.”

Hearing this, Marilyn quickly adjusted her expectations. It certainly didn't sound like Michele was building up to the kind of news she hoped to hear. “So, did she offer you the job?”

“No, I haven't even asked her yet. But now I'm not sure I'm even going to.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Michele said, “Allan asked me how badly did I want to have children. And I said, like you really have to ask me that. So he said, how about we get started right away. Isn't that exciting?”

Marilyn had thought they were already trying, so this wasn't exactly earthshaking news. “That's wonderful, Michele. So you guys can definitely live on what Allan makes?”

“It will be tight, but that's how he wanted to set things up from the start. And we've been sticking to it. What little I've been making as a substitute teacher has all gone into the bank. So we're going to start trying to have a baby as soon as possible. Isn't that amazing? Maybe in a couple of months I'll be calling you with some more exciting news!”

“That's great, hon. I'm so happy for you. But did Allan say he
didn't
want you to check on that full-time teaching job?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, I wouldn't close the door on that just yet. You know it could take a few months to get pregnant, right? And these days doctors say you can work almost until you're ready to give birth. You guys can save a lot of money between now and then. Maybe enough to set up the nursery.”

“I guess. But it will be a little hard to get excited about teaching. I love these kids, but I really just want to be a mom.”

“Marilyn? Are you almost ready?” She turned to find Jim standing by the fountain with that couple.

“I'm sorry. Looks like I've got to go already. Maybe we'll get to talk again soon. I'm so thrilled with your news. Give Allan my love.”

“I will. Can't wait till you get home and we can start planning the nursery together.”

“That will be so much fun,” Marilyn said. “Gotta go. Love you.” As she walked toward Jim and the others by the fountain, she tensed up a little. Jim wouldn't be nearly as excited by this news.

 9 

A
n hour later, the tour group and guide had been dropped off at the entrance of St. Peter's Square, which Marilyn found odd, since it was clearly oval-shaped. She decided not to have Jim ask that question. The area was massive, so much bigger and wider than she'd imagined, with that tall stone tower, called an obelisk, rising from the center. It kind of reminded her of a smaller, fancier version of the Washington Monument. The tour guide had just finished pointing to it and said Emperor Caligula brought it to Rome for his circus in 37 BC. It was present during the martyrdom of the apostle Peter and many other Christians. Some pope had moved it to its current position in the 1500s.

The guide had said the exact year and the pope's name, but she was only half-listening now, holding Jim's hand. They walked around the large space to the right of the Obelisk. The tour guide said something about how many columns encircled the square and how many statues were situated around the top. Now he was saying something about the two large fountains on either side.

But Marilyn was watching Jim's face, specifically, his eyes.

She knew this look. It was something she'd come to recognize these past seven months since their reconciliation. The look said he was thinking about something he wasn't ready to talk about. She should be grateful, and she was, mostly. In the old days, Jim never wore this look. He would rotate through a variety of angry faces, and he'd never sit on anything that bothered him very long. Those angry expressions would quickly be followed by even harsher words.

But that was then.

Now Jim didn't react harshly or hastily when something upset him. Instead, he'd hold it in temporarily, try to process it calmly. He'd pray about it, think about it, and consider what to say, or if he should say anything at all. She had to admit, this was better. But it was also unnerving at the same time, and often left her totally distracted.

What is he thinking about?

She knew it didn't help if she needled and prodded him. That had come out in one of their counseling sessions with their small group leader. Men can't just shut their emotions down like throwing a switch. He needed time to downshift and get his feelings under control. And she needed to be willing to give him that time.

It had been working pretty well at home. Jim would often get over whatever was eating him in an hour or two, and they would calmly talk it out. For the last several months, and for the first time in twenty-seven years, they were actually talking through their problems and learning to listen to each other at a heart level.

The problem was, they were walking around this incredible place full of beauty and history and wonder, and Jim was stuck in his head, totally distracted. She had been enjoying his undivided attention since the moment they had boarded the plane, and she didn't like the familiar feeling of being together but still alone.

The tour guide moved the group back to the center, toward the steps of the Basilica itself. He was now pointing out the statues of St. Peter and St. Paul on either side, talking about who sculpted them and when. Jim's head faced the right direction, his eyes were on the man speaking, and they blinked at appropriate times. But she knew he really wasn't there at all. And she didn't want to wait for him to work this through on his own as she walked through this magnificent architectural masterpiece holding Jim's hand.

“Can we talk about what's bothering you?” she whispered in his ear.

“What? No, I'm okay.”

“Really? Okay, how many steps do you have to climb to get to the dome of St. Peter's?”

“What? I don't know.”

“He just said it—330. There are 330 steps. Come here, Jim.” Taking a firmer grip of his hand, she led him toward the back of the group. “I know I'm supposed to give you a little space when you're struggling.”

“I'm not struggling. Well, maybe I am a little. But I'll be okay. Really.”

“Is it me? Something I said?”

“No, it's not you. I'm mostly feeling bad that this thing is bothering me at all. I know it shouldn't. I'm mad at myself, that I can't just let it go and enjoy our time right now.”

“Can you tell me what it is at least? Does it have something to do with Michele's phone call?”

Jim sighed, then nodded. The tour guide began directing the group toward the stairs leading up to the main entrance. They walked a little slower, allowing a small gap to form.

“Is it about the idea of her and Allan trying to have kids right away?”

“Resistance is futile,” he said. Then seeing her confusion,
he added, “An old Star Trek saying. You always seem to know what I'm thinking. Most of the time, I miss what you're going through completely.”

“You do, but see, at least now you're trying. Are you struggling about the money? About all the money you spent sending her to college?”

He laughed. “You're a scary woman sometimes. That's pretty much it.” He looked up at the group now beginning to climb the steps of the Basilica. “We better not lose them.”

“We won't. You know he's going to pause once they're inside and talk for a few more minutes. If you're okay with it, I'd like to talk this out a little, so I have you
really
with me once we go inside.”

“It's just, I can't believe how much money I spent on her education. Tens of thousands of dollars. She hasn't even started teaching full-time yet. If she has a baby right away, you know what's gonna happen. She's gonna want to stay home, just like you did.”

“Is that such a horrible thing?”

“No, you know I don't think that. I'm glad you were able to stay home with the kids.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“There isn't a problem. You're right. I should be fine with it.”

“But you aren't.”

“It's just . . . I wish she had figured out that all she wanted to be was a stay-at-home mom before I spent all that money.”

Marilyn looked up and saw that the tour group had all moved inside the church. The pause also helped her to gain control of her anger. She couldn't believe Jim had just said that. Had he really forgotten the fiery arguments they'd all gotten into about this very thing after Michele graduated from high school? She looked into his eyes. It was clear that he had. And she reminded herself, he really felt bad that he was struggling with this in the first place.
Lord
, she prayed,
help me to help him
.

“Maybe we should finish this at the top of the steps,” Jim said. “So we can at least keep our eyes on the group.”

“Good idea.” As they walked, Marilyn considered how to put this. “Jim, you do remember, don't you, that Michele didn't want to go to college at all, right? You remember all those fights the two of you got in about this, toward the end of her senior year in high school and just after she graduated?”

“I guess I don't. I believe you, but I don't remember.”

“I remember, because I was the referee. You were insisting she had to go to college, and she kept insisting that all she wanted to do was be a mom, like me. She wanted to stay at home and, when the time came, homeschool her kids. You were telling her that she needed to think of her future, that women today couldn't depend on finding husbands that would provide for them the way you did for us. Those days were dead and gone. Do you remember any of this?”

“It's starting to ring some distant bells.” A disgusted look came over his face.

If Marilyn guessed right, it was self-loathing. “I'm the one who suggested Michele become a schoolteacher,” she said, “as a compromise. Because it would help her when the time came to homeschool her kids and, at the same time, satisfy your requirement for her to get a practical education. In case that man in her life she was hoping and praying for never came.”

Jim shook his head. “I remember now. I was such a jerk. And look, the man she was hoping and praying for did come.” His eyes got watery. He blinked the tears away. Looking in her eyes, he said, “You did a great job back then mediating between me and the kids. And you always had such great ideas.”

“Had?” she said.

“Still have. Now I've got one. Let's get in there and join the group before we get lost.” He leaned forward and kissed her, then they turned and headed into the building.

As she walked through the magnificent doorway and beheld the grandeur of this place, she could almost imagine if God did have a house on earth, it might look something like this. But she knew what the Bible said, that the God of heaven chose to live within human hearts.

And she had experienced, firsthand, the power of God working in Jim's heart just now. She could tell by the look in his eyes.

He was back.