His Beloved

As he walked into the living room, he sighed. It has been a terribly long and exhausting day and the next day would be the same. Sitting down in his old broken in lazy boy, he put his feet up and sighed, leaned back to get comfortable as the clock on the mantel chimed. Ten-fifteen. For a man who worked strange hour, this was early for him, despite the fact that he could feel his entire body relaxing into the softness of his chair. He couldn't help it he supposed. When you go from running a funeral home with anywhere from two to four licensed, full time funeral directors down to one, you were certain to be exhausted. Add to that your own personal issues, and the fact that the funeral he had conducted earlier that day and the one he would be conducting on Monday were merely children, no older than his own cherished group that he and his wife raised, he was finding it amazing that he was still awake enough to even be thinking. A dangerous sign for him that maybe he should turn over the phones to the answering service for the night, something he very rarely did because he simply liked to be in control. Another thing he found was simply part of him. Standing up, he slowly made his way into the outer office and over to the white plastic table that served as a desk for his young assistant. Sitting down in the desk chair, he couldn't help but admire how she managed to personalize the table and make it her own, and still manage to keep it neat enough so she could use it when she had to. Picking up the black receiver, he punched in a few numbers, double checking them against the phone cord on the desk and after the first ring was greeted by a cool, crisp voice on the other end of the phone. "Good evening. Walter Martens & Sons. How many I help you?" Certainly not as personal as the greeting both her and Victoria used, but it got the job done. "Yes this is Walter Martens. I'm not going to be able to answer phones tonight, I'm sorry. If we should get a call, would you ask them to hold it until morning. If they can't, then would you notify me." he explained as the cool voice on the other end responded. "Certainly. Will that be on your cell then Mr. Martens?" "Oh, yeah. Yes...my cell." he quickly answered as he felt his eye lids start to close. "Very well. Walter Jr. on his cell. Good night sir." she answered, still wide awake and probably running on coffee. Setting the phone back in its cradle, he quickly picked it back up and dialed the funeral home's 3rd line before he set the receiver on the desk and stood up as it rang the rest of the phones in the office. Taking a few steps, he stepped over to his son's desk and answered the phone by picking it up and placing it on the desk as well. Then, without even thinking, he headed right back to his lazy boy chair and sat down, kicked his feet up and leaned back. He was too tired to even make it to hi bedroom about a 1,000 feet away. Grabbing the blanket that was behind his head, he threw it around himself and drifted off into an uneasy and restless sleep.

The Ride Home

Standing at the cemetery, he couldn't help but smile as he watched his assistant work with the family as they waited to go back to the committal shelter. "She's a natural" he thought as she walked over to the widow and began to give her some directions. "She's certainly got something I can work with." 

"Sir? Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you should sit in the van. It's rather warm out." she spoke, as he shook his head, his thoughts now broken.

"What did you say?" he questioned, as she looked at him, her eyes full of concern. They were a long way from the funeral home, and it was only the two of them on the funeral.

"I asked if you're feeling alright. You look very flustered all of a sudden." she repeated, as he nodded his head, took out his monogrammed handkerchief and blotted his brow dry. The temperature easily had to be at least ninety degrees. Tucking it back into his pocket, he smiled.

"Just fine. Why don't you go move the van. I'll get everybody into their cars." he suggested, as she silently nodded her head and climbed into the silver funeral home van, slowly pulling it forward, as he informed the family that it was time to leave and head back to the committal shelter for the services.

~~~

"You can drive home if you want." he said to her about an hour later, as they watched the last of the family car's pull away from the curb to leave the cemetery. She had done well with this family, and he was very proud of her, but then again, she always worked her hardest with the families whenever she had gotten the chance, and for that, he was very glad that he had hired her. 

"Yeah okay." she replied, as she peeled her gray striped jacket off and tossed it lazily on her arm, as he followed, removing his best navy blue jacket and sighing. "Urgh, this heat is unbearable." she moaned.

"Well, I'll think about that while I'm sitting in the back seat praying." he teased her, as she stamped her foot in protest. She was easily aggravated about jokes on her driving. 

"That's not fair. I'm a good drive when I have the company car." she protested as they climbed in and sighed a sigh of relief at the temperature difference. The van must have been at least ten degree's cooler. 

~~~

As she hit the highway and set the cruise for a comfortable 70 miles per hour, she settled back into the drivers seat for the twenty mile drive back to town. With the air vents opened, the car had cooled to at least a twenty degree temperature difference, and he easily found himself fighting to stay awake on the ride home. As conversation started to dwindle between the two of them, (sometimes there was simply nothing to talk about) she looked over to find him asleep in the passenger seat and she breathed a sigh of relief. This week had turned into a crazy one. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough to prevent him from getting the proper sleep she knew he should have every night. The nap on the trip home would do him some good. 

He found that sleep, no matter how much he tried to fight it, had come to him, and in a way, he was happy. Sleep had been something that he hadn't gotten much of this week, so every little cat nap made a difference to him. But would she be alright? She was a good driver, and it wasn't her driving that he was worried about. But the heat had been very hard on them all today and she had been rubbing her forehead and the back of her neck like she normally did when she had a headache. He gave her credit, she always tried so hard to hide when she had a headache, but he had learned her signs when she did have one. Opening one of his eyes, he peeked over at her, but she seemed comfortable. Closing his eyes, he sighed as he settled into the passenger seat to sleep. He trusted her to get them home in one piece.   

The Miscarriage

      As a clap thunder roared outside his bedroom window, he lept up from his newest nightmare that was plaguing him. Wiping sweat from his brow, he sighed as he caught a stolen glance at the Big Ben sitting on the bedside table. Two-Ten. "Great," he murmured, as he tossed the sheet off and sat on the side of the bed. "Not even forty-five minutes this time." he sighed again before he felt her gentle hand on his bare shoulder.

     "Come back to bed darling." she whispered quietly as she placed her lips softly on his neck before rubbing his shoulders, feeling the tension he once again was carrying. He was working to hard. Taking her hand, he kissed it lightly before he turned around to face her. She was stunning.

     "I'm sorry I woke you. The baby-" he asked as he placed his hand gently on her womb.

     "The baby's fine love. It's you I'm worried about. Why don't you just tell me what this dream's about. You'll feel better." she stated gently as she placed her hand softly on the five o'clock shadow he bore before she kissed him. Breaking off the kiss, he sighed for the third time as he reached down and pulled on his light blue shorts before turning to face her once more.

     "It's nothing really. Just working too hard. I'm sorry I woke you." he repeated again as he leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'm going to go get a sleeping pill." he added, more so to himself than her as he walked out of the bedroom. Shaking her head, it was her turn to sigh as she laid back down in among the soft pillows.

~

     Rolling over, she stirred as she reached for her husband, only to find him gone. Reaching over to his bedside table, she grabbed the Big Ben and sighed, Four-Twenty. Setting it back down, she grabbed the duvet off the bed and wrapped it loosely around her, as she slipped off the bed and silently made her way out of the bedroom in search of her husband.

     "Sweetheart?" she questioned a few moments later as she walked into the dimly lite living room, where he sat on the couch, a bottle of Strohs and paperwork scattered on the marble coffee table in front of him and the radio softly playing Foreigner's "I want to know what love is." on the book shelf. Turning to face her, he smiled weakly. Coming over to him, she sat down in his lap, wrapping an arm around him as she ran her other hand softly down his face, before he kissed her lightly.

     "What are you doing up so early?" he questioned in between kisses, as her brown eyes flashed in the light from the storm's lightening.

     "Looking for you." she replied, as she continued kissing him lovingly, the way only a wife could.

     "You shouldn't be up this early. It isn't good for the baby." he answered as she looked at him, a smile on her soft lips.

     "Neither should you." she whispered, as she felt him shifting beneath her, so his legs were straight on the couch.

     "I woke up and you weren't there." she added, as she followed his lead and stretched out next to him, just fitting into the crook of his arms, as he tucked the duvet tighter around her.

     "I couldn't sleep. Didn't want to keep you up." he said, as he felt her nuzzle into his arms and against his bare chest. "But it's okay now. Just sleep." he spoke softly, like a new father to his scared child. "Get some sleep love." he added as he felt her slip back into sleep before following her.

~

     Kissing his wife lightly on the cheek, he climbed out of the car and smiled at her. "I don't have to go if you don't want me to." he told her for the second or third time since they had gotten in the car to head for his meeting.

     "Nonsense. Go to the meeting. You'll only be an hour or two and then we'll have a romantic dinner and then curl up on the couch and watch a movie." she replied as she leaned over to kiss him goodbye. "Now go. It's not nice to keep the others waiting. Go on." she urged him, as he nodded his head and closed the car door behind him as he headed into the meeting. Smiling, she drove away, as she mentally finished her list for dinner.

     "You've got a phone call. You can take it in the office." he was told about an hour later, as he finished jotting down some figures from the treasure's report he just gave. Standing up, he nodded his head.

     "Who is it?" he questioned as he headed for the office.

     "It's your wife. She sounds tired. Must be great to be newlyweds." was the answer he was given, as he dashed into the office and picked up the phone.

     "Darling?" he questioned, the sound of fear creeping into his voice, despite the fact that he was trying to hide it.

     "I'm sorry to bother your meeting, but I'm not feeling well darling. I was just letting you know that I don't think I'll be able to come get you." she answered in just above a whisper, as he shook his head.

     "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, as he heard her sigh.

     "Yeah. We're just fine. Go back to your meeting." she replied as she hung up. Hanging up, he went back into the meeting and grabbed his hoodie.

     "Hey. Everything okay?" the guys asked, as he nodded his head.

     "Huh? Oh yeah. I'm gonna head home. I'll see you all later." he answered as he pulled hid hoodie and left.

~

     Running up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, he tried to calm himself as he walked in. Setting his keys on the table inside the door, he sighed.

     "Sweetheart?" he called out, as he headed into the dimly lit living room. Walking over to the couch, she smiled weakly up at him.

     "You're home early." she whispered as he sat down next to her and ran his hand down her face, noticing she was cold, clammy, and slightly gray. "I told you I was okay." she added, as he pulled her into his arms, his hand resting lightly on her womb.

     "We're going to the hospital angel." he answered her, as she silently nodded her head.

~

Rolling over, he grabbed the Big Ben. Two thirty seven. Sitting up, he sighed, turned on the night stand lamp and reached for his wife, only to find that she wasn't there. Pulling on his robe, he sighed again as he headed slowly downstairs to the funeral home. Letting himself into the dimly lit morgue, he flipped on the switch and sighed again as he looked at the chaos of the bodies that filled the room. Walking over to one of the metal dressing tables, he let out a deep breath as he looking into the tiny little white casket sitting on top of it. The twins were still there, wrapped just as tightly as they could be in the blankets that his young assistant had wrapped them in earlier that evening before she had gone home. Baby funerals, especially those that were miscarriages always hit him the hardest.