Chapter 2

02

Married life turned out calmer than I'd expected. Lavish, even.

Jacob had a three-story house out in the suburbs, done up in the classic new-money style. The rosewood furniture had to be the biggest size available, the crystal chandeliers the flashiest, right down to the gold-plated toilet seats.

But with me, he was genuinely good.

I didn't like the smell of smoke in the house, so he went out to the yard to light up. I mentioned offhand that I liked cherries, and the next day he had a few crates flown in from Ohio, each one the size of a coin.

The only hard part was getting past his mother.

My mother-in-law was a classic country old woman, small feet bound in the old way, but with a sharp, cutting look in her eyes. The second day after she moved in with us, she started laying down rules at the dinner table.

"Miriam, honey, Jake's had a hard life. Building all this didn't come easy. Now that you've married into this family, your first job is to carry on the Dunn line."

She held out a bowl of black tonic, the smell of it strong enough to turn my stomach.

"Mom, this medicine—" I looked to Jacob for help.

Jacob was hunched over gnawing on a braised pork trotter. He caught my signal and reached over to take the bowl at once. "Mom! I keep telling you, these days you trust the science! The doctor said we're both perfectly healthy, it just hasn't been our time yet. This stuff is bitter as anything, don't go making Miriam sick with it."

"What do you know!" His mother rapped him on the head with her chopsticks. "This is a fertility tonic I got from the wise woman back home! Your ex-wife ran off because she wouldn't drink it! Miriam's an educated woman, she'll understand. Drink it! You have to drink it!"

For the sake of family peace, I pinched my nose and got the tonic down.

Under the table, Jacob gave my hand a squeeze, his palm rough and warm.

The days went on like that. Jacob was busy with business, often away on trips. When he was home, we lived like any normal married couple. He wasn't much in bed, and it never lasted long, but afterward he always poured me a glass of water, or rubbed my lower back.

"Sorry to put you through that," he always said.

I shook my head. Compared to the cold cruelty and cheating of my last marriage, Jacob's clumsiness actually made me feel safe.

Until that month.

Jacob went to Wyoming to negotiate the acquisition of a mine and was gone for two weeks. The day he came back he was flushed with good spirits, saying the deal had gone through and he wanted to take me to a celebration dinner.

"Wear the red dress, it's festive!" Jacob pushed the custom silk dress into my hands. "Everyone coming tonight is somebody. Help me put on a good show."

I changed and did light makeup. The woman in the mirror had fine lines at the corners of her eyes, but her color was good, that well-fed glow money buys.

The dinner was at the best seafood restaurant in the city.

The moment I stepped into the private room, the reek of smoke and liquor made me frown a little. Jacob led me around, introducing me to each of them.

"This is my wife, Miriam Powell, a college professor!" His voice was full of pride.

The men were all beer bellies and dirty jokes, but they were polite enough to me.

I was in the middle of waving off a toast when a waiter brought out one of the main dishes, steamed sea bass.

The lid came off and a thick, fishy smell mixed with scallion and ginger hit me square in the head.

In that instant my stomach clenched like a fist had grabbed it, everything churning up at once.

"Ugh—"

I couldn't hold it. I clapped a hand over my mouth and bolted out of the room.

In the restroom I heaved until I was nearly bringing up bile.

Jacob came rushing in, sweat all over his face, tissues in his hand.

"Honey! What's wrong? Was that fish off? I'll go smash their place up right now!" He held me steady, panic all over him.

"It's fine, my stomach's probably been off lately, maybe I caught a chill." I waved weakly.

Jacob wasn't reassured. He laid his big hand on my forehead. "You're not hot. No, we're going to the hospital. Forget dinner, your health comes first."

He wouldn't take no for an answer, half carrying, half steering me out of the restaurant and into his big Land Rover.

At City General we checked into the ER.

The ER doctor listened to my description, then gave Jacob and me a strange look.

"How late is your period?"

I blinked, pulled out my phone, and checked my records.

"Two months... but I've never been regular. Sometimes it only comes once every three months." Because of the premature ovarian failure, my cycle had always been all over the place, so it hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Go get some blood work done first, then an ultrasound." The doctor wrote up the order.

Jacob took the slip, baffled. "Doc, my wife's got a stomach thing, what's blood work for? And an ultrasound? Isn't that for checking a pregnancy?"

The doctor didn't look up. "Rule out pregnancy first, then we look at the stomach."

Jacob gave a sheepish laugh and scratched his head. "Doc, you're joking. The two of us... the two of us can't have kids."

The doctor shot him a glance. "There are no absolutes in medicine. Go get it checked."