losing a spouse, it indicates they had happiness in their marriage. Being married was a good experience for them.” She smiled.
“I didn’t even know for sure I was pregnant when Matt left for Iraq last May. I’m not thinking about another marriage, of course,” Vanni said. “But I am thinking about—Well, what I’m thinking is that I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Of course you shouldn’t be alone forever. You have a lot of life to live.”
Vanni smiled. “Should I be thinking about birth control?”
“We can talk about that. You wouldn’t want to be as unprepared as your midwife. Especially with having a baby to take care of. Believe me.” She took a breath and ran a hand over her big belly. “I wouldn’t let myself think ahead! I remember when my sister said, ‘I know widows who have remarried, and are happy.’ I almost took her head off. I was appalled. I wasn’t at all hopeful life could go on.”
“It sure went on for you,” Vanni said.
“Boy howdy. I came here absolutely determined to live out my days lonely and miserable, but that damn Jack—he ambushed me. I think I fell in love with him the minute I met him, but I fought it. As though I might somehow be unfaithful to my husband’s memory by moving on, which was absurd. I had the kind of husband who would have wanted me to have love in my life, and I bet you did, too.”
“You don’t send a man off to war without talking a few things through—my parents taught me that. One of the first ways Tom and I figured out the general was headed for a possible deployment was when the paperwork came out. Wills, trusts, etcetera. Not just in case something happened to him, but what if he was away in some jungle or desert war zone and something happened to Mom?” She smiled a bit wistfully. “Matt didn’t dwell on the worst-case scenario, but he was quick and to the point. He said I wasn’t the type to wallow and he’d be disappointed in me if I did. He had a few requests—where he wanted to be buried, what to do with his favorite personal items, to make sure his parents got regular visits especially if we had children. And—if a good man showed his face, I was not to hesitate.” She took a breath. “My requests of him were almost identical.” She straightened. “If I’m lucky enough to run into another man half as wonderful as Matt, I should be ready.”
“Absolutely. It’s not at all impossible, even in little old Virgin River. Let’s get you something reliable while you’re considering all this. You want a pill you can take while breast-feeding? Can I hook you up with a diaphragm or IUD? Have you given the options any thought?”
Vanni smiled gratefully. Of course she’d thought about it. “Yes. IUD please.”
“Let’s go over the models,” Mel said. Then she smiled. “By the way, you’re all cleared for intercourse. Should you find…”
Vanni laughed. “Thanks,” she said.
“You have good judgment. Make sure there’s a condom involved. We don’t want the transmission of any—”
“I have good judgment,” Vanni repeated. “And extremely good taste.”
There was a man on Vanessa’s mind, he was the reason she’d found herself imploring Matt for help and blessings. Matt’s best friend; her best friend. Paul.
He spent months in Virgin River, supporting and comforting her, spending Christmas away from his parents, brothers and their families. They spent a lot of time talking about Matt; crying about Matt, lost in hours of sentimental remembering. Without Paul’s strength, she’d never have gotten through the worst of it. He was her rock.
Her relationship with Paul went back much further, of course. It wasn’t as though they became friends because of Matt’s death. In fact, that night long ago when she met Matt, it had been Paul across the room who’d first caught her eye. He was so tall, his legs so long and hands so big, it was hard for him not to stand out in a crowd. There was that willful, sandy hair that had to be kept short because it would defy any kind of styling. Not that Paul was the kind of man to fuss with his hair—it was obvious even from a distance that he stuck to basics. It was his masculinity she noticed; he looked like a lumberjack who’d cleaned up to go into town. He had an engaging smile; one tooth in front was just a little crooked and he had a dimple on the left cheek. Heavy brown brows, deep chocolate eyes—details she discovered a bit later, of course. She hadn’t even noticed Matt…
But it was Matt who put the rush on her, swept her off her feet, made her laugh, made her blush. While Paul hung back, shy and silent, Matt charmed her to her very bones. And shortly after the charm, he made her desire him madly, love him deeply. He was hardly a consolation prize—he was one of the best men in the world. And a devoted husband, so in love with her.
She loved Paul before Matt’s death, grew to love him more deeply afterward. When little Mattie was born, she said to Paul, “I will never love anyone but Matt.” But as the weeks passed she realized that she didn’t have to stop loving Matt any more than Paul should. Matt would be with them both forever. And it was like the natural order of things that Paul should step in now. But there was no indication from him that he felt anything more than a special friendship. She had no doubt that Paul loved her, loved little Matt, but it didn’t appear to be the kind of love that could warm her on cold nights.
She’d called him several times since he’d returned to Grants Pass; polite and entertaining conversations about the baby, the town and his friends here, about her dad and brother, even sometimes about Matt.
“The baby’s gained a pound and a half already,” she told him. “He’s already changed so much.”
“Who does he look like?” Paul asked. “Is his hair still dark or does he have a patch of fire on his head, like his mom?”
“Still just a little Matt,” she said. “I want you to see him. Hold him.” Hold me!
“I’ll have to try to get down there.”
He hadn’t visited yet. And he never betrayed any longing. Not a whiff of desire came through those phone lines.
She felt like a fool for even wanting him. But there was no denying it—she missed him so much. And not the way a young widow misses having a man in her life. The way a woman longs for a man who stirs her, moves her.
When Mel walked Vanni out to the clinic’s waiting room, Vanni spied her younger brother’s girlfriend waiting there. “Brenda!” Vanni said, going to her, giving her a hug. “I guess if there are only appointments on Wednesdays, there’s a good chance you’ll run into all your friends here,” she said with a laugh.
“I guess.” Brenda shrugged, blushing a little.
“I have to rescue my dad before he runs into a messy diaper. He’s got the baby at Jack’s. I’ll see you later—probably tonight at dinner?”
“Sure,” Brenda said. “Later.”
Vanni blew out the door and Brenda sank into her chair. The waiting room had been the old house’s front room and was decorated exactly so. Heavy cream-colored velvet draperies covered the front windows. They were pulled back with sashes and always remained open. An ancient sofa and settee, upholstered in burgundy velvet, were flanked by two wing chairs with curved wooden legs. The fabric on the chairs was yellow brocade that had long ago lost its luster. A few Gisele chairs with cane seats were spotted around the room, which, itself, was rarely full. There was only
