Page 31 of Loving Jake

Her job, she groaned inwardly. How would she travel with a small baby in tow? Could she really leave her child every day, sometimes for twelve hours at a time? She couldn’t. Although only aware of the life that grew inside of her for less than an hour, her maternal instincts had already kicked in at full blast. She would need to alter her work schedule somehow. After some consideration, the idea of a portrait studio began to take hold of her mind. Somewhere in town possibly, where clients could come to her. Kimberly made a mental note to investigate the idea first thing tomorrow morning.

Now to tackle her biggest problem: what would she tell people? She could always say she had gone to a sperm bank, she reasoned. The concept was very trendy. Kimberly shuddered. The idea of carrying a stranger’s child inside of her did not appeal to her, even if it wasn’t true. A one-night stand while in Paris might be a good excuse, she mused, and then killed the idea. Visions of her parents’ look of horror flashed before her eyes. They would be mortified at such behavior from their daughter. Despite the fact that she was thirty-one years old and living on her own, her parents maintained old-fashioned ideals, ones that did not include their daughter sleeping with strangers.

Maybe she would just tell people the truth. She had fallen in love with someone, and unfortunately, he didn’t return her love. They no longer saw each other, having gone their separateways. It wasn’t a lie; that’s for sure. Kimberly reached for a pillow and clenched it tightly to her. Why, Jake? Why didn’t you love me? We could have been so happy together. Kimberly yawned. The day’s events had taken a toll on her weary body. She curled tightly into a ball, and a faint sob slipped from her lips before she drifted off to sleep.

FOURTEEN

“On behalf of the crew of flight 506, headed to Lima, Peru, we welcome you aboard. For those of you who have been with us since Miami, we thank you once again for flying with us today and hope you have enjoyed traveling with us. We are waiting for approval for take-off, and we apologize for the delay. If there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable until we receive approval for take-off, please don’t hesitate to contact one of the flight attendants on-board. Weather reports for Lima, Peru indicate that today’s high is sixty-seven degrees, cooling off later this evening. Our flight time from Caracas to Lima is estimated at four hours and five minutes.”

Jake shifted in his seat, glad at least for the comforts of first class on what was actually a short flight for him compared to his typical overseas flights. He normally brought a book with him to pass the time, preferably a mystery, but he had forgotten to grab one from the airport newsstand. The last six months in Saudi Arabia had provided him with little time for leisure activity, and the latest best seller had been the last thing on his mind. Now, with no more than a plane ride as a reprieve, he was headed to Peru. The revolutionaries, known to the world as the “ShiningPath” terrorist group, had taken responsibility for several bombings in the last week, and tensions had risen among the civilians. It was rumored that all hell was about to break loose, and he would be right in the middle of it. And why not? What else did he have to go home to? Springtime in San Francisco? Budding flowers and romances? Not hardly.

“Well, mercy. I wonder how long this delay is going to be. Young man, would you mind reaching up and handing me my bag? It’s in the compartment above your head.”

“Ah, sure.” Jake glanced at the woman seated next to him. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a silver crown, in much the same way as grandmothers styled it on old television dramas, he thought with a hint of humor. Her plump face sat on top of an even plumper body. She wore a dress adorned with large pink and purple flowers, once again, just like they did on television, and he laughed to himself.

“It’s the paisley bag, dear.”

“Why thank you so much, young man,” she bubbled when he placed the oversized bag on her ample lap.

“Ah, here is the one I want.” She sighed in relief and pulled a large photo album out of the bag. “Would you mind, dear?” She handed the bag back to him with a pat on his hand.

“No problem.” Jake’s amusement with the old woman grew exponentially.

“I take my photo albums with me everywhere I go. Why, I would be lost without them. Look, here’s a picture of my dear Howard, bless his soul.” She fluttered over a black-and-white photograph.

Jake obliged the old woman by looking at the picture of her husband, obviously taken decades ago. Jake smiled warmly at her and then motioned to the flight attendant for a magazine. He didn’t want to be rude, but perhaps if the woman thought he was immersed in an article, she would refrain from showing himevery picture in her cumbersome album. Somehow, he didn’t think it would work, but at least it was worth a try. There has to be a hundred pages in that thing, he estimated. He turned once again to try to capture the flight attendant’s attention.

“Yes Mr. Taylor?”

“I’d like a magazine, preferably Newsweek or Time, if you have it.”

“Certainly, Mr. Taylor.” Jake settled back into his seat. He closed his eyes, although he was anything but tired, and nearly jumped out of his seat in reaction to his companion’s high-pitched voice.

“Heavens, here is our wedding picture. Can you believe that’s me? I wasn’t much of a looker back in nineteen-sixty-four either, but my dear Howard didn’t care. He loved me just the way I am, and thank God for that, or else I may not have ten beautiful children to share my life with now. Not to mention my twenty-seven adorable grandchildren,” she added with a glowing look of adoration at several of the photographs.

“Ten children?” Jake repeated to himself with a shudder that ran along his spine. No wonder the woman will chat with a complete stranger; she’s out of her mind. Ten children, really? His interest was piqued. Unable to prevent his curiosity from demanding to be satisfied, he asked, “You had ten kids?”

“There’s Howard holding our Betsy. What’s that dear?” she crooned happily before she looked up from her album.

“I just said, ah, you had ten children?”

“Hmm, I guess that depends how you look at it, dear. I’m being cryptic, aren’t I? Annoys Emily to death-- she’s my eighth--when I leave her hanging like I do.” The old woman laughed; her pale blue eyes sparkled with merriment. She patted Jake’s hand reassuringly and settled deeper into her seat.

Now, I’ve done it, Jake thought hopelessly. The eccentric old woman would talk his ear off for the entire journey,and he had provoked it. He returned her smile with one of his own, as he waited for her to elaborate.

“I say depends, dear, because it really does. You see, as a young girl I was in a very unfortunate accident. Took me months before I could walk again. After a year of rehabilitation, I looked as good as new on the outside. Unfortunately, my insides didn’t fare as well. I met my loving Howard at that time. I had just turned twenty.” She leaned her large girth close to Jake, and in a conspiratorial voice, whispered into his ear, “I was messed up in my, hmm, lady parts. Not that I couldn’t be a wife to my sweet Howard, I assure you, but I couldn’t have children.”

She returned to her former position of shaking her head and clucked her tongue several times on the roof of her mouth. “Well, I was just beside myself, I tell you. Not being a real beauty myself, I questioned what I really had to offer Howard. Let me tell you young man, my Howard was quite a catch in those days. He was being groomed to take over his father’s grocery store, not to mention that he was quite a looker.” She clucked her tongue again, emphasizing her good fortune so long ago.

“Now let me tell you, I was up front with Howard from the beginning. I wasn’t one of those girls who played games, not me, not Henrietta Zarlong. Anyway, my dear Howard, do you know what he said to me? He said, ‘Henny, I love you for yourself. If that means it’s just the two of us, then that makes me a greedy man, and I don’t care, because I’d love nothing more to spend my life with just you.’” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief and then proceeded to blow her nose into it.

“My, I did love that crazy old coot so much.” She laughed into her hanky.

“You were able to have children after all. That’s great.” Jake smiled back at her.

“Heavens no,” she chirped with a wave of her hand in the air. “We adopted them, all ten of them. We agreed to just one at first, but by our third wedding anniversary there were four little mouths sitting around the dinner table with us. Times were tough back then, you know? There were so many needy children roaming the streets. By the time we celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary, we were raising ten children.”

Jake swallowed. Adoption? Howard and Henrietta had adopted ten children? He decided he could be on a first name basis with them now that he practically knew their whole life story. Had they been happy? She sure made it seem so. “Did you, ah, ever regret it?” Jake realized his question held far more importance to him than idle curiosity.

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