Fading Expectations

By Janice J. Richardson

Two couples seal their marriage with the expectation of happily, ever…  but they could not have predicted the after.

 

'For better or worse' becomes worse for Joyce and Olivia as change and conflict hurl them into unexpected places. Neither woman anticipated being the mom to a special needs child, but both opened their hearts despite the struggle.

 

Their lives, eerily opposite yet parallel, collide with a chance meeting after devastating accidents. Lost and isolated, Joyce and Olivia face an unknown future that threatens to destroy everything they know. Will their encounter in the hospital heal them or leave them inexorably shattered?

 

A powerful story of love, loss, and true friendship.

 

Content Warning: This work of fiction touches on the impact of psychological abuse, mortality, and the realities of dealing with special needs children.

 

"It's frighteningly beautiful." MJ Moores, Infinite Pathways Press

 

"This deep emotional journey will stay with you long after you finish the last page." Victoria Young Bennison, Fika with Vicky

 

"Gut-wrenching and unexpected." James J. Cudney, Author of Perceptions of Glass series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janice J. Richardson
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9780995239593

Book preview

PART I

Happily, Ever...

1982

Olivia

In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Olivia and David locked eyes as she repeated the time-honoured vow. Her whispered words were meant for David’s ears alone. A range of emotions filled her day, rising and falling, moving from apprehension and uncertainty before sliding into joy the moment the vows sealed their commitment. Ultimately, as they completed their oaths, a rush of satisfaction flooded her heart. Olivia’s thoughts drifted back over the long road she and David faced as this moment frescoed in her mind.

The two met in her first year of university. David was immediately drawn to the shy international business student. Her quick mind and reserved manner captured David’s heart. They dated on and off through the years, committing seriously to each other when David finished his undergraduate degree. Shortly after Olivia moved in with David, the laughter and the love they shared resulted in an unexpected pregnancy.

Contrary to his parent’s expectations, their relationship thrived and strengthened. They set their wedding date for a year after David completed his MBA.

Looking down at his bride, David smiled at her intensity. She countered with a wink and barely heard the officiant’s proclamation, I now pronounce you husband and wife.

The violinist, one of her university friends, played a Bach etude as David kissed her gently, then took her hand and led her off to the side to sign the register. He turned back to reach for the hand of their daughter, Hope.

Aware of all the attention she received in her pink puffy dress and the sparkling little tiara catching the light, five-year-old Hope pulled away from her dad, preferring to primp and twirl. A burst of laughter from the guests echoed through the chapel.

Olivia’s smile broadened as she signed the register. She rose to let David sit and glanced at his parents. They avoided her gaze. It is a completion and a beginning all rolled together. Nothing can come between us. He’s mine now, and forever. As David sat, Olivia picked up her flowers and watched him sign his name with a flourish. Putting the pen down, he glanced around.

Olivia knew he was honoured to be married in his family’s church, where his parents and grandparents had sealed their vows. The flowers picked from their friends’ gardens reflected the summer light as it streamed through the stained-glass windows. She froze the memory of that moment in her mind. When the minister introduced Mr. and Mrs. David Huntington to their guests, her heart soared. Mrs. Olivia Huntington. Her dream had become reality.

Joyce

Across the city, another crowd of family and friends cheered and clapped as laughter echoed through the sunshine and breeze. Joyce blushed as Alex dipped his new bride and kissed her. The officiant’s words rang out, For the first time, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Burke. Breathless, they raised their arms and danced down the grassy aisle littered with rose petals, their joy reflected in their guest’s applause.

Joyce and Alex had not waited long for this moment. It was love at first sight. A mere six months had passed from the moment they’d lain eyes on each other until this celebration. Joyce’s parents joined in the applause. With their daughter married, they could move to the west coast and get on with their lives. Joyce no longer held them back. Today marked the first day of the rest of her life.

Allow me, Mrs. Burke. Alex swept her up into his arms and placed her in his truck. She laughed with joy at hearing her new name and locked eyes with her husband.

Joyce’s heart swelled as she turned and watched the crowd flow out to wave them off to their honeymoon before swiveling to watch Alex climb into the driver’s seat. He flashed her the same smile that melted her heart when they first met at senior prom. She couldn’t believe he’d sought her out in the crowd of students and danced with her all evening. Joyce felt like a princess that night and from that night forward, her prince would take care of her. She no longer had to worry about bad grades, not getting into college, or disappointing her parents. This was her life now, the years ahead held potential of children, laughter and security.

1983

Olivia

What would you like for dinner? I could make chicken and a salad or spaghetti. Olivia wiped the counter with a damp cloth and set it to dry over the faucet before turning to her husband and quirking an eyebrow.

David glanced up from the typewriter on the kitchen table in their tiny apartment. He leaned back and stretched.

Big decision, my dear. His face crinkled into a smile. What would you like?

Olivia moved behind him and folded her arms gently around his neck. As she bent down to kiss the top of his head, a loose strand of her hair brushed his cheek. He ran his fingers over the lock and slipped it back behind her ear. She smiled into his hair and kissed him again.

It doesn’t matter to me. Olivia leaned into David as he stroked her arm.

Spaghetti it is. He laughed and nearly pulled her around onto his lap. Let me make it, I need to get up and stretch. Why don’t you sit and keep me company? His tone belied his fatigue. She gave him a playful peck on the nose and righted herself, moving behind him again.

Olivia’s salary had become their main income; she covered most of the bills without complaint. Olivia massaged his shoulders as he leaned his head back against her chest. Worry lines marred his usually clear brow.

David had been raised with money, privilege, and never wanting for anything. She sensed his wariness and knew he’d never admit it, but he blamed himself for failing. His parents had cut him off when he defied them by marrying her last year. Gone was the bottomless bank account, the vacations he’d frequently enjoyed. His love for Olivia and little Hope never wavered, but his confidence in his ability to build a company (as successful as his father) did.

Olivia gently released her husband as he rose. Now was not the time to tell him about her pregnancy. It could wait until the right moment. She absently placed her hand over her abdomen.

She went to her nightstand, pulled out some stationary and sat across from his typewriter. A long letter to her parents filled with chatter about Hope and David followed. She chose not to mention her pregnancy. Her mother’s birthday had passed, and she felt a twinge of guilt at forgetting it once again. Her infrequent letters to the UK happened more as a result of focusing on her family’s needs. Raised by blue-collar parents who taught her to be independent and strong, they remained somewhat detached from their bright, ambitious daughter.

Olivia didn’t fit in with her peers as a child. She moved through school with ease, winning a scholarship to a university in Canada. She didn’t return to Chelmsford, Essex upon graduation, choosing to put the past behind her and build a life with David. Someday, she planned to go back to visit her childhood home and her parents – maybe even with their grandchildren. For now, though, it could wait.

Joyce

What time will you be home for supper? Joyce asked, keeping her voice light. Alex grunted as he grabbed his keys.

I’ll be late, go ahead without me.

She didn’t turn in time to kiss him goodbye. She watched the door close behind him as he hurried away. With a tiny sigh, Joyce walked back to the kitchen and sank onto a chair at the table. Alex worked overtime most nights in order to save for a bigger house. It made sense, but his dedication to their future kept his side of the bed cold, more so of late.

Joyce liked the way her husband took charge and made decisions. Alex knew what he wanted. She, too, wanted a bigger home. She wanted to start their family and fulfill her dream of three children. If only I could get pregnant. Alex had suggested she see a fertility specialist – not something she normally would have gravitated toward. But still, he might be right.

Today was her day off. Her part-time job at a bakery wasn’t enough to keep her busy. The house stayed tidy, there just being the two of them, and she’d picked up groceries on her way home yesterday. Looking at the large hutch where her grandmother’s china displayed, an askew plate caught her attention. Joyce opened the bevelled glass door and straightened it. Restless, she rinsed a mug that had been sitting on the counter, moved a little glass bird Alex had won for her at a carnival to the other side of the windowsill, and straightened the curtain.

Bored, she wandered down the hall and opened the door to the spare room; its sparsity sharpened her loneliness. She imagined bunk beds and toy cars or Legos, dolls and books. Bright new curtains would adorn the window, and childish laughter would echo down the hall. Her eyes stung with tears and she squeezed them shut, her decision made.

Walking back to the kitchen, Joyce fixed another coffee and waited for the doctor’s office to open. Maybe Alex was right, something might be wrong with her. It was time to fix the problem and make that appointment.

Early 1984

Joyce

Once the examining room door closed behind Joyce, she exhaled slowly. Even after twelve weeks, she still hated the gynecologist/obstetricians waiting room. The happy mothers-to-be chattered about their pregnancies, the older women sat silent, staring off into space or reading a magazine.

Joyce made sure she’d brought a book to hide behind, but it did little to relieve her apprehension. Minutes ticked by as she flipped through the pages, fiddled with her hair, anxiously waiting for the nurse to check her blood pressure and for the doctor to examine her.  She just wanted the ordeal over.

As always, he swept in quickly, and as always, she started, her face flushing with embarrassment. The doctor took a seat behind the desk and opened her chart. The punctuated silence pressed on her as he flipped through the pages. Finally, he spoke into the chart, not once looking at her.

Well, Mrs. Burke, your test results are normal so far. At this point, rather than continue with a more invasive procedure, it’s time for your husband to see his doctor for a sperm analysis.

The gynecologist’s words swept over her with the force of a tsunami. The shock slammed her as her stomach knotted. It had taken weeks to get her first appointment, and the three appointments she’d had with him since were traumatic. It was the first time in her life she had visited a gynecologist; she’d never experienced an internal exam and at each subsequent appointment the humiliation grew worse, the invasiveness shamed her.

As challenging as it was to visit the gynecologist, Alex’s expected response to the request for a sperm test unnerved her. Alex would be furious and humiliated. What if he is the reason we can’t have children? How can I tell him he needs testing? She had learned–within a few weeks of their marriage–how to avoid angering him. Random explosions and the resulting displeasure would fill their home with an uneasy tension for days, a presence in and of itself, violating the quiet space she worked so hard to maintain.

Joyce stared at her hands folded in her lap, willing the appointment to end, dreading the possibility she might need to be examined again. The wheels on his chair squeaked as he slid it back, a drawer ground open, and a bit of rustling drew her curiosity. Joyce raised her head and focused on him again.

Your iron is a bit low. Here are a few pills to get you started. Wheeling back to his desk, he pushed some foil packets at her. He still didn’t make eye contact. Be sure you take them about an hour before eating, preferably with water. Your husband can call his doctor about the sperm test. Any questions?

Joyce breathed a timid, No. She picked up the packets and rose quickly, turning to the door.

Thank you, she said over her shoulder, not really meaning it. The appointment just left her more confused. She had never dreamt Alex might be the reason she wasn’t pregnant.

Joyce hurried through the crowded waiting room, a few women glancing up at her. Once outside, she leaned against the wall of the building breathing deeply to calm her rapid heart rate. As she regained her equilibrium, relief washed over her. Why I am so intimidated? He sees dozens of patients a day, I’m just a number. At least I don’t have to go back again for a while. She gave herself a minute to regroup. Calm again, she tucked the pills into her purse and walked briskly to her car, running scenarios in her head on how to tell Alex he needed to be tested.

A different level of anxiety surfaced as Joyce drove home. Given Alex’s view that her inability to get pregnant was her problem, she anticipated the outcome when she broke the news. She mentally rehearsed what to say, but nothing felt right.

Entering the empty house, she put her keys and purse down and stood still in the silence. Once he gets over his anger, he will appreciate that we will have a family, we can move ahead with adoption. Eyes closed, she took a cleansing breath and pictured toys scattered across the floor. She could almost hear the peals of childish laughter. How her heart ached to be a mother and, breaking the spell, she strengthened her resolve make sure that happened. She squared off with the phone and called Alex at work. Her heart rate increased as the receptionist put her through.

Hi honey. Just wanted to let you know dinner will be ready for you when you get home. It’s your favourite. And I picked up an apple pie at the bakery.

Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting with a client at 6:30 tonight.

All right, see you later.

The click in her ear registered as his ‘goodbye.’ She released a pent-up breath, mentally rehearsing again how to break the news to him about the doctor’s decision as she bustled around the kitchen getting everything ready.

Alex’s tastes were plain: meat, potatoes, a simple vegetable (not mixed), and pie. Joyce pulled out some potatoes and the steaks. It didn’t take long to do the meal prep and before long she made herself a cup of tea and lost herself in the pages of her library book. At 4:30, she started dinner, having promised it would be ready when he walked through the door.

Other than I’m home, Alex didn’t say much. He changed out of his work clothes before coming to the table.

She didn’t attempt to make small talk over dinner, her mind preoccupied with broaching the subject of testing with Alex.  

Alex didn’t ask about her appointment, or how her day went. He wolfed down his food, finishing well ahead of Joyce, who barely touched the small servings on her plate. Her fingers under the table, worried the napkin in her lap. Just do it. Rising to clear the table and get dessert, she brought the requisition over.

The doctor gave me this today, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart pounded as she laid it down. She chose her words carefully, to make it sound like she had nothing to do with it. He would like you to get tested.

As he snatched the paper up, scanning it.

Joyce braced herself.

His eyes flashed back and forth until he saw the checkmark for the sperm test.

Alex slammed the requisition on the table, rattling the remaining dishes. Joyce shrank, making herself quiet.

This is insane. Anyone would have to be stupid to think I have a problem. I’m as fit as I was when I was on the wrestling team in high school.

He glowered at her.

I know, I thought the same thing.

Who is he to call my health into question when he knows absolutely nothing about me or my virility. That idiot doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He crumpled the paper in his fist then grabbed the keys and stormed out, slamming the front door behind him. The squeal of tires confirmed his departure.

In a spontaneous, unwanted release, Joyce’s sobs filled the air. She finished clearing away the dishes, leaned heavily against the counter as the sink filled with sudsy water, and could do nothing but let the tears spill over her cheeks as she worked. Once everything was back the way Alex liked it, spent and exhausted she stumbled to their bedroom, fell onto the bed and curled up into a little ball.

I don’t get it. What did I say? What did I do?

With no easy answers to her questions, she rolled over, retrieved her book from the bedside table and retreated into the pages – Alex forgotten until she reached the back cover.

The clock flashed 12:46 p.m. Yawning, she rolled off the bed, brushed her teeth and went to bed.

Alex came in several hours later, the stench of alcohol tainted the air as he slipped in beside her. She remained frozen and still until his snores become regular. Sleep eluded her, but she had to get up early to go to work. Saturdays were her busiest day. Joyce lay for over an hour staring at the black ceiling waiting for Alex’s snores to start.

* * *

Like a mouse, Joyce slipped out of bed before dawn, eyes burning from lack of sleep. She snuck out of the bedroom, clothes in hand, her every move deliberate and cautious.

When she closed the front door quietly behind her, a sigh of relief escaped. Alex had not wakened.

More tired from emotional exhaustion than anything else, Joyce spent the day trying to figure out what to say when she got home. Should I bring up the subject again? What if Alex refuses to get tested? Should I let him mention it and act like last evening had never happened? Distracted, Joyce had to force herself to pay attention after putting the wrong icing on some cupcakes. Her supervisor snapped at her, telling her to ‘smarten up.’ Joyce’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at the reprimand.

On the way home later, her anticipatory anxiety built as she turned the corner to her street.

Alex’s car sat in the driveway.

Pulling her vehicle up beside his, Joyce took a deep breath, her heart fluttering with fear. She entered the house quietly, dropping her purse by the front door before entering the kitchen, smoothing out the wrinkles in her work pants as she walked.

A colourful bouquet of gerberas and daisies overwhelmed the kitchen table. Joyce’s heart jumped into the base of her throat; a tingling spread over her skin. A card sat propped up on the vase, her name written with a flourish on a pink envelope. My favourite colour.

Potatoes wrapped in foil sat at the edge of the counter. A football commentator from the TV in the den called out a play. It had been months since Alex had given her flowers or made dinner. He barely remembered her birthday anymore, handing her a gift card for the mall when he did. She gently fingered the delicate petals of the daisies. Just like my bouquet on our wedding day. Admiring their cheery faces, she leaned over the blossoms and took a deep breath, savouring their fragrance.

Tentatively, Joyce reached for the card, opening it carefully.

There you are! Alex startled her. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck. She melted into him, relishing the intimacy, her expectancy rising. This was the man she fell in love with.

Sit down, hon. He released her, pulled a chair out from the table and patted it. I’ve got the barbeque fired up and the steaks ready to go. Alex walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. How was work? he asked.

Her stomach tumbled, a mixture of hope and anxiety. Busy. She blushed, not wanting to reveal how her nerves betrayed her.

Good, good. I’ll get the potatoes going. The game is in its final quarter, we should be eating in about an hour.

Sounds great. Joyce accepted a glass of wine and watched Alex retreat outside. She took a sip, sat back in her chair and sighed. Returning to the card, she looked at the flowers on the front and the text that said: To my wife. Inside the blank card Alex had written: Love you! Hearts of all sizes circled the text, just like he used to do when they were dating.

Twenty minutes later, a jovial Alex re-entered the kitchen.

They won. Great game. He pulled the steaks out of the fridge and, whistling happily, went outside to grill. Joyce looked at her empty wine glass, debating whether to have another. Pushing the stemware away, she rose with a lighter step and an even lighter heart and went to change and shower.

Over dinner, Alex nattered nonstop about his week, complaining about his boss and clients and co-workers. He gave her most of the details of the game, then marvelled at how great the steaks had turned out. They skipped dessert. Joyce didn’t care, she worked with cakes and pies and pastries all day, and they held little interest for her.

Alex finished off the entire bottle of wine and leaned back against the chair. I want you to know that what happened yesterday was inexcusable. I brought work home with me. My supervisor has been on my case this week for no reason and the last thing I needed was some other idiot telling me what to do. But I’m working on that. He stacked the empty plates and brought them to the sink.

Alex’s fingertips trailed along her collar bone and he kissed her behind her ear. Joyce barely noticed his words. There’s a promotion coming up that I’m putting my name in for. I’m a shoo-in. No one else has the same background that I bring to the table. It’ll mean greater stability for us.

Her heart quickened and trilled. This was going somewhere she dared not jinx.

So, I’ll take the damn test. I’ve got nothing to fear. And he smoothed the crumpled requisition on the table.

Olivia

Olivia, in nesting mode, went on a cleaning spree the day before her due date. The baby’s room was ready, the apartment clean. Hope watched cartoons after a walk