Question of love

A question of Love
By
Jan Harrison Brown

Glancing around the un-kept garden, pictures of summers past float
across her eyelids. Why did it have to end like this?

Sitting in the B.B.Q. chair. She held her weary head in her hands for
several minutes before straightening herself and kicking off her shoes.
The dampness of the grass beneath soothed her tied feet. The sweet
smell of the rich earth and blossom tingled in her nostrils. The uncut
grass pushed up between her toes. Feelings of erotica came over
her.

What had she done to deserve such an end?

They'd made love under the cherry tree, wrapping themselves around each
other in a frenzied passion. Grasping for breath as they expelled to
each other's end. Caught in a light summer shower, they raced across
the lawns semi naked, laughing and giggling, full of life and love.
Finally retreating to the conservatory - where - they continued their
will and desires.

Life meant nothing with out him. How could she carry on?
She wished she were dead! Maybe that was the answer? Maybe, that would
put a stop to it for good? Make sense of the endless torture from with
in. The continuous questions whizzing; bumping; thumping around in her
head.
But she couldn't kill herself, she reasoned. You needed to be brave to
do that and she was a coward, which she'd proved.
More memories came to mind. How he'd smiled teasingly at her panic of
deep red blood when she'd accidentally cut her finger. He'd washed and
kissed her hand tenderly. She'd gazed into his deep hazel brown eyes.
Thanking God for having him there. To hold her tightly, when her
beautiful freckled complexion had whitened.
The torture began again. Thoughts ripped forcibly apart, every nerve
split. Tears flowed now like burning rivers of molten steel.

Bells; alarms; sounds, pulsated at her temple. Stretching upwards she
fingered clumps of her hair. Pulling tightly. Thinking that the pain in
her skull might go away. If only she could jerk the roots hard
enough.
When would it end? For how long must she greave?
She continued to sob openly in the privacy of her garden. Enveloped in
her world of self-pity and loss.

Then the phone rang.
She rushed to answer. Wiping her face on her sleeve she tried to
correct the smudged makeup. As if it mattered.
"Hi Jen, only me. How are you?"
"I'm fine thanks Pen - Bearing up - you know."
"Liar! You sound dreadful . . .Have you been crying?"
"No!" She lied. "I've been preparing onions for dinner. You know how
they affect me," she sniffed.
"That's good, at least you're eating>"
The thought of a two-hour natter with her best friend filled her with
horror and was the very last thing she wanted.
"I don't want to seem rude Pen! - But like I said, I'm preparing dinner
and I'm out tonight&;#8230;"
"Great where too? Any where nice?"
"For goodness sake Pen! - What is this? A hundred questions?" Jen
snapped. "I'm ok! - REALLY - I am!"
"I'm sorry." Penny hesitated. "I didn't mean to pry&;#8230; It's
just that&;#8230;" She paused, choosing her words very carefully.
"Graham and I are worried about you&;#8230;"
"You think I can't cope?"
"It's not that Jen." She sighed. "We know it hasn't been easy for
you&;#8230; and you've lost so much weight."
I'm ok&;#8230;" Yet another lie. She was getting good at this.
"Really, I am&;#8230;" Realising she was a little sharper than she
intended to be. "Look, I'm going to have to go&;#8230; A pans about
to boil over - I'll call&;#8230; promise&;#8230; Speak to you
soon&;#8230; Love to Graham."
She crunched the receiver down so quickly Penny couldn't protest.
Jen leant against the wall. She rubbed her hands over her salt sodden
face. Exhausted from it all, her legs became weak and crumpled into a
coiled heap on the floor. She sat still. Not knowing what to do or
where to turn to next.
The next thing she knew the answer phone beeped and made Jen jump. It
bought her back from another plain. One, so far away, so distant, she
wasn't even aware she'd travelled there or that she was still sat on
the kitchen floor, or realising, that she'd been in the same position
for over two hours.
"Hi Jen - me again - sorry, I was hoping to catch you. God I hate
talking to these things. Anyway. I forgot to mention. We're having a
bar-bee&;#8230; next weekend - love you to come. No Tom isn't
invited! So you've no excuses. About seven then! Oh and - the holiday?
What do you want to do? We understand, if you want to cancel. You
know&;#8230; under the circumstances. Or, you could always take
someone else." Pen gave one of those girlie giggles. "Call
me&;#8230; Bye."
Jen smiled, good old Pen always willing to help.
She decided a soak in the tub was perhaps the best thing, followed by a
bowl of soup and a sloppy movie. Bridget Jones! Eat your heart out. She
thought.
After her bath, she had to admit she did look and was feeling better
when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. She glanced at the clock. A
visitor at this time of night?
"HI."
"Tom!" God, he'd got a nerve.
"Hi, yourself." She said as coolly as she could. Damn. It was good to
see him.
"I'll understand if you don't want to talk to me."
Not want to talk to him that was an understatement.
"You'd better come in." She led the way to the kitchen.
"So&;#8230; how are things?" She gestured with the kettle.
"Coffee?"
"One of your specials?" Their eyes clashed briefly, "I'd love
one."
She turned away sharply before he could read her thoughts and filled
the kettle. Her heart was dancing, pounding, screaming out.
Tom came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips. Caressing the
tops of her legs. Just like he always did.
"How've you been?" He said, sliding his hands around her waist.
It was electric. Her heart hammered even harder in her chest. She
wondered if he could hear it? The adrenalin pumped faster n
faster.
She moved awkwardly form his grasp and collected two mugs.
"Why don't you make yourself comfy in the lounge? I'll bring these
through."
She opened a packet of his favourite biscuits and trying hard to
control her nerves, she took a big deep breath, then picking up the
tray, concentrating on not spilling anything.
She curled up in the armchair, so she could watch his every move in
detail.
He held his mug cupped in both hands as he always did. Jen noticed the
white mark on his finger where the signet ring had been. The one she'd
bought him.
"Are you going to ask me why I'm hear then?" He asked.
"I thought you'd tell me, in your own good time." Jen was surprised at
her calmness. Even though underneath she just wanted to hold him and to
be as before - lovers.
"I love you Jen." His eyes pierced hers for several seconds before she
looked away and started to pick at emaginary bits of fluff on her
robe.
"I can't live without you." He gazed into his mug as if looking for
prompts. I know
you don't want to get married. You say it's too soon. But I need you."
He placed his
mug on the coffee table and knelt before her. Taking her hand, kissing
her palm, as he always did.
"It's been hell with out you. I can't eat&;#8230; can't
sleep&;#8230; can't think&;#8230; can't work&;#8230; I miss
you! - I love you - Jen." She listened to his words. "What else do you
want me to say?" He protested by standing up and flinging his hands
deep into his pockets. "Well!" She could see he was desperate for an
answer! His loose change tinkling against the quietness. Another habit
Jen recognised immediately.
She wanted to throw her arms around him. Smother him with love and
affection. But it was him, who wanted to get married. She tried to tell
him, she wasn't ready. She felt it was to soon. Maybe in a few years.
What was the big deal anyway?
"What would you like me to say - Tom?" She said softly.
He sat down on the couch again. Crumpled like a well worn jacket.
"You've missed me&;#8230; You love me&;#8230; Anything
really&;#8230; I just want to hear your voice." He smiled a
desperate tear filled smile.
He buried his head pitifully in his hands. Then looking up.
"I want you&;#8230; Not a piece of paper&;#8230; I can
wait&;#8230; For ever if that's what you want." The hurt in his
eyes, the want, desires. She knew he was telling the truth. She loved
him more than she believed possible. The pain he had, she'd also seen.
She couldn't bear to be apart from him. Not a day longer, than he could
bear to be away from her. It had been four whole weeks. Four weeks
without touching, holding, kissing. But - she wanted it, needed it.
More. Needed him&;#8230; Till now not realising how much. A lump
came to her throat.
"I want you too," she whispered. A single tear fell down her cheek.
"But first I have to make a phone call."
Jen speedily dialled the number. Tom listened on. Unaware of why she
needed to make such an urgent call.
"Hi there. Graham and I are busy at the moment." Said the recording of
Penny's voice. "Leave your message after the
tone&;#8230;Beeeeep."
"Hiya, Pen. Sorry I missed your call earlier&;#8230; Love to come to
the bar-bee. I'll be bringing my fianc?&;#8230;" She smiled to her
self. She had to admit it did sound good. "If that's ok?" She looked a
Toms desperate face. His expression, one of shock, lifted. "Oh and the
holiday? I'm game if you are? You never know it might even be a
honeymoon!" Tom's face broke into a broad smile. "I'll call you
tomorrow. Bye."
She fell back into the armchair.
"Do you mean it?" Tom asked in disbelief.
She nodded, with arms held open wide, ready to greet her new husband to
be. The whole atmosphere lifted as they hugged and kissed
passionately.
Well - she did say fianc? and it could always be a long
engagement&;#8230;
who knows?