Clandestine Entaglement

Tink

Jack and Carol Driscoll met in a spousal support group. Jack's wife, Elizabeth, had died when their son Dean was two. She had fallen off a horse and broken her neck. It killed her instantly. A ranch hand found her a couple of hours later. Jack was devastated. Here he is, widowed with a two-year-old son who is confused about why Mama was not there. Jack did his best, but it got to the point that he needed to be among people who understood what he was going through.

Carol had lost her husband when she was eight weeks pregnant with a baby girl. When she was eight months along, she was ready to leave the house. The pain was fading, but every time she felt her daughter kick, she reverted ever so slightly. Her friend suggested she attend a support group she saw at her church twice a week. She was reluctant, but she agreed to go to a meeting.

The meeting resembled an AA meeting, but the coffee was better, the donuts were fresh, and it was far more depressing. Jack was in his usual seat in the circle. The meeting was just about to start when the door opened. Every head turned. They hadn't got any new people in over two months. It was all the same people all the time.

A very pregnant woman stood at the door. Jack thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen- no offense to his Elizabeth. Her skin was glowing, her strawberry blonde hair flowing down her back, and her breasts so large they rested on her large belly. She was small-framed and stood about five feet tall. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet and greeted her at the door.

She was nervous, hated meeting new people, and felt uncomfortable and out of her element. The baby could sense her stress and started rolling and kicking. She was about to turn and run, but a very tall, very handsome man with beautiful emerald green eyes approached her.

"Hi. I'm Jack," he said, putting his hand out.

"Umm. Hi. I'm Carol... do we use last names?"

He smiled and let out a little laugh.

"You can if you like. Phone numbers are allowed, too."

He couldn't believe he had said that.

Am I flirting with this woman? That is so wrong. Say you're sorry.

"That was so inappropriate of me. I am sorry."

She was utterly flushed with embarrassment.

"It's okay. It's kind of an ego boost. Not many men say that to a woman who is eight months pregnant," she looked down, but she hasn't seen the floor in six months. "My last name is Brasher. Carol Brasher."

"Why don't you come and sit down, Ms. Carol Brasher," he said.

He put his arm out, and she let him escort her over to the group.

"My last name is Driscoll. Jackson Thomas Driscoll. Please do not call me J.T."

"I won't call you J.T. if you don't call me Carrie. Deal?"

"Can I call you beautiful?"

Good God, Jack, really? You need to call a meeting of the commonsense committee. You do not hit on a grieving woman two minutes after you meet her.

"Here. Have a seat." He offered her his chair.

"Everyone, this is Carol. Carol, this is everybody."

He got himself another chair and set it up beside her. It was a tight fit, but he was determined to sit next to her. She smelled incredible, like vanilla.

Carol introduced herself and told a short story about why she was there. Jack's heart broke for her. She had been alone and pregnant for the last six months. Her husband had died of a heart attack. He was young, and it was very unexpected. She didn't say anything else for the rest of the meeting.