A Mother for His Twins

‘Shh.’ She placed a finger on his lips. ‘You don’t need to explain. I just missed you, that’s all.’

‘Really?’ He kissed her finger, then took both her hands in his. ‘I missed you, too.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘It is.’ Jasper once more looked over at the photo album then back to Jennifer. He could simply sit there and look into her eyes all day long, which was exactly what he wanted to do right now but he knew he couldn’t. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I had a look through your photos.’ He pointed to the album.

‘My photos?’

‘I wasn’t snooping when I found it,’ he added quickly and told her how the girls had ‘helped’ unpack so they could play in the boxes.

‘It’s OK, Jasper.’ Her smile was welcoming as she caressed his cheek. ‘I don’t mind.’ She let go of one of his hands and picked up the album, looking at the outside for a long moment before speaking. ‘I used to look at this album every night for so long. Just touching the photographs of Art used to make me feel closer to him somehow.’

Jasper only nodded and although she’d felt silly saying those words, she knew he would understand completely.

‘People always say the first year after losing someone is the hardest, and it was. It was a really difficult year for me but looking at our memories, at the good times we’d shared, really helped to get me through.’ Jennifer sighed. ‘The memories are a part of me, just as Art will always be a part of me.’

She paused and breathed in deeply before continuing. ‘There’s a park—not far from here—where we used to go to just sit and watch the world. Kids would play. Birds would chirp. Leaves would fall. Clouds would float by. It was one of my favourite places and Art would lie on the grass and tell me about his day, about the children he’d taught and how we’d have our own brood someday. It was…nothing, you know. We talked about nothing yet all those nothings came to mean…’

‘Everything.’ Jasper’s tone was soft and he squeezed her hand. ‘It’s the little things, the quiet moments, you tend to remember the most.’

‘Yes.’ Jennifer smiled a watery smile at Jasper.

‘I used to watch the girls do something new and exciting, like feeding themselves for the first time or talking or running or jumping or doing a sommersault. Little, everyday things, and I’d be almost mad at Elisha for missing it, for not being there to share in those all important moments.’

‘Yes. I’d get mad at Art for not being there and then I’d feel guilty for feeling that way.’

Jasper shook his head. ‘No need to feel guilty. The anger is a part of the grieving process.’

‘I know. Even though I didn’t go to counselling, I did read a few books on the subject.’

He smiled at that. ‘Me, too. Anyway, about a year ago Lilly caught a ball for the first time. She was so happy, so excited, especially with her little tongue between her teeth as she concentrated so hard on keeping her hands together, ready to accept the ball. It was then I started to think, Elisha would have loved that. Instead of, She’s missing it, my thoughts somehow turned themselves around to think, She’d have loved that, and she would have. She’d have been so proud of our Lilly.’

‘Yes.’ His words made perfect sense and she nodded. ‘I do understand that.’ She leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his lips. ‘Thank you for listening to me, for sharing with me.’

‘You’re more than welcome, my beautiful Jen, but there’s also something else I want to say. It may not be easy for you to hear it but I need to say it.’ He paused, took a deep breath and then said carefully, ‘You need to say goodbye to him, Jen.’ The words were spoken so quietly that hardly any sound came out from between his lips but Jennifer felt his words and knew he was right.

‘Did you say goodbye to Elisha?’

‘Yes. At one of Sydney’s most prestigious restaurants, because that was where we had our first date and also where I proposed, so it seemed only right to say goodbye there, too.’

Jennifer looked down at the hand he held before meeting his eyes once more. ‘Was it difficult?’

‘Yes. I sat in that restaurant, by myself, surrounded by couples, and realised that I was now on my own. Really on my own. She wasn’t in the bathroom or at the shops or out working. She was gone and she was gone for ever. After that night, somehow, I was able to move on. I was able to come home from work and not expect her to be there, waiting for me. I was able to start living again.’ He let go of her hand to cup her face. ‘And if I hadn’t started living again, I wouldn’t have met you.’