A Notion of Love by Abbie Williams Page A

house here, Jilly Bean.”
    I was a little dumbfounded that Chris would do such a momentous thing without consulting me…but then I turned in a slow circle, really observing the place. I squinted my eyes and pictured our house, the one that Chris and I had spent so many hours envisioning and planning in our little bedroom in his parent’s basement. It would have a wraparound porch, and a huge laundry room, one in which I would never bump my hip on the dryer trying to circumnavigate my way clutching a basket of clothes. There would be a flower garden and Clinty would have bunk beds…and there would be rooms enough for at least nine more kids. Tears were spilling down my cheeks and I absolutely leaped into my husband’s arms.
    â€œSweetie, isn’t it great?” Chris said, holding me close to his heart and swaying us side to side.
    â€œI’m just so happy,” I told him, breathing in against his chest to stave off more tears. “Chris, when did you…I didn’t even know you were looking.”
    â€œI wasn’t exactly looking, but I found the ad for this place just a few weeks ago. It’s been for sale for a long time, so they were willing to lower the price and Dad and Ma helped me with the down payment money. We won’t be able to break ground until next spring, but we can maybe camp out here in the meantime, bring the tents, have a fire…”
    More tears rushed over my face and Chris thumbed them away, looking down at me with so much tenderness and love. I gulped a little and then kissed him, pulling his face to mine. Though I wanted him to lay me down right here in the soft grass, I could tell he was too excited to show off our new property to our friends and family. It was so like him to radiate enthusiasm this way; nothing brought him down and I loved that about him.
    â€œCome on, there’s a couple of birch trees over here,” he said, again tugging me in his wake.
    â€œHey,” I said to his familiar back, and he peered over one shoulder at me, not breaking stride, eyebrows raised.
    â€œI love you,” I told him, and my throat hurt with the force of it.
    He said, “I love you too, honey. And I promise I’ll build you the most beautiful house you’ve ever imagined.”
    And at that moment I really believed he would.

    February, 1991
    Wrong, something was wrong .
    It was as though a hockey buzzer was going off in my head as I leaped from bed, pulled directly from deep sleep, and for a moment wavered on my feet, utterly disoriented and dizzy. I tipped back to the mattress, my hands seeking at once for Chris, but he was out snowmobiling with Neil and a couple other guys, not yet home.
    Clint.
    I raced across the basement to my son’s room, clicking on the overhead light, heart slamming my breastbone like an angry fist. I saw at once that he was fine; he drew up his knees and shifted under the unexpected glare, but went on sleeping. I allowed a breath, but the hockey buzzer hadn’t quit. My heart was still throbbing inside of me.
    Dammit . Something was still wrong, chilling me to the bone. For a moment I longed for Minnie so much that I felt faint again; she would know, she would be able to tell me what had ripped me out of my bed and flung me into a panic. But she was gone, she’d passed away just this past autumn, along with Chris’s father, both just before Clint turned three.
    Calm down , I commanded myself. You aren’t solving anything this way .
    I turned out the light in Clinty’s room and proceeded back to my own, but couldn’t get back into bed with this sort of agitation rushing through my veins. I tugged on my long braid and then trooped up to the main floor kitchen, debating waking Elaine or calling Gran, or Joelle. But it was nearing midnight. I hated when Chris stayed out so late; we’d had a fight about it just two weeks ago, when I found out that they’d been drinking. He’d felt