Cherry Chocolate Chip 10, Rainbow Sherbet 5: Wounds
Title: Wounds
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cherry chocolate chip 10 (concern), rainbow sherbet 5 (blue), malt (PFAH: Joanna taking a swan dive at the hospital), rainbow sprinkles, pocky chain.
Word Count: 506
Rating: PG.
Summary: Joanna deals with the events of Scars, and Hugh tries to help..
Notes: Discussion of infertility beneath the cut.
He saw her at the playground, and, surprised to see her there, went to say hi. The equally surprised delight in her smile warmed him subtly.
"Why here?" he asked, as he sat at her invitation.
"Watching my niece, Maryam," she said, and nodded at a girl playing on the monkey bars. "Her mother, my sister, she has... trouble, sometimes, so she sends Maryam to stay with me. And I... I'm glad to have her."
"She's lovely," Hugh said, wondering at the flash of sorrow that had crossed Joanna's face.
The sorrow hid, and she smiled at him. "She is."
--
It was the last half of June, the double whammy of Father's Day and Olivia's birthday, and he'd been thinking about her a lot. Probably the only reason he asked.
"Do you want children?"
Joanna blinked at him. "What?"
"I did," he said. "I was so happy when Olivia was born, I just... I was thinking about it."
"Ah," she said, and tried to smile. She failed so completely that even he, wrapped up in his own hurt, noticed it. "I used to, yes."
That pain, so much pain. "Used to? What changed?"
She shrugged, and the conversation was over.
--
"What did you think of me when we first met?"
He had asked it teasingly, but Joanna took it seriously. "I thought that you were very lonely," she answered.
"Yes," he said, sighed. "Well, I'm not lonely anymore."
"I knew you were hurting," she said, very softly, almost to herself. "You still are, a little."
"It's better now," he said, and daring, took a chance. "It's not for you."
She looked at him, eyes wide. "What?"
"You're still hurting," he said.
"I..." she said, and then, "I can't. I can't. Not now."
"Not now," he echoed, and stopped, but remembered.
--
"Joanna," he said, much later, in the middle of a conversation. "I told you. It helped."
She closed her eyes, and very abruptly said, "I can't have children."
He froze, and the words in his mouth froze too.
"Endometriosis," she said, after a moment. "It was... bad. Very bad. They've gotten it, and, I don't hurt anymore, but I lost... a lot, and now I can't have children. And my mother calls, asking when I'm going to get married, when I'm going to give her grandchildren, and I..." She stopped, pressed a hand to her mouth. "I can't have children."
--
Later, after she'd cried on his shoulder, after he'd gotten her a cup of tea and held her hand throughout, he asked a question.
"Why don't they know?"
"What, my family?" She shrugged, stared into the tea. "I can't tell them. They wouldn't understand."
"Why not?"
She thought about that for a while. "I have three sisters," she said, at last, "and between them, they have eight children. My brothers do other things, but in my family, daughters get married and make grandchildren. There are no other options." She sighed. "And I am barren. So what do I tell them?"
--
He had no answer for her.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cherry chocolate chip 10 (concern), rainbow sherbet 5 (blue), malt (PFAH: Joanna taking a swan dive at the hospital), rainbow sprinkles, pocky chain.
Word Count: 506
Rating: PG.
Summary: Joanna deals with the events of Scars, and Hugh tries to help..
Notes: Discussion of infertility beneath the cut.
He saw her at the playground, and, surprised to see her there, went to say hi. The equally surprised delight in her smile warmed him subtly.
"Why here?" he asked, as he sat at her invitation.
"Watching my niece, Maryam," she said, and nodded at a girl playing on the monkey bars. "Her mother, my sister, she has... trouble, sometimes, so she sends Maryam to stay with me. And I... I'm glad to have her."
"She's lovely," Hugh said, wondering at the flash of sorrow that had crossed Joanna's face.
The sorrow hid, and she smiled at him. "She is."
--
It was the last half of June, the double whammy of Father's Day and Olivia's birthday, and he'd been thinking about her a lot. Probably the only reason he asked.
"Do you want children?"
Joanna blinked at him. "What?"
"I did," he said. "I was so happy when Olivia was born, I just... I was thinking about it."
"Ah," she said, and tried to smile. She failed so completely that even he, wrapped up in his own hurt, noticed it. "I used to, yes."
That pain, so much pain. "Used to? What changed?"
She shrugged, and the conversation was over.
--
"What did you think of me when we first met?"
He had asked it teasingly, but Joanna took it seriously. "I thought that you were very lonely," she answered.
"Yes," he said, sighed. "Well, I'm not lonely anymore."
"I knew you were hurting," she said, very softly, almost to herself. "You still are, a little."
"It's better now," he said, and daring, took a chance. "It's not for you."
She looked at him, eyes wide. "What?"
"You're still hurting," he said.
"I..." she said, and then, "I can't. I can't. Not now."
"Not now," he echoed, and stopped, but remembered.
--
"Joanna," he said, much later, in the middle of a conversation. "I told you. It helped."
She closed her eyes, and very abruptly said, "I can't have children."
He froze, and the words in his mouth froze too.
"Endometriosis," she said, after a moment. "It was... bad. Very bad. They've gotten it, and, I don't hurt anymore, but I lost... a lot, and now I can't have children. And my mother calls, asking when I'm going to get married, when I'm going to give her grandchildren, and I..." She stopped, pressed a hand to her mouth. "I can't have children."
--
Later, after she'd cried on his shoulder, after he'd gotten her a cup of tea and held her hand throughout, he asked a question.
"Why don't they know?"
"What, my family?" She shrugged, stared into the tea. "I can't tell them. They wouldn't understand."
"Why not?"
She thought about that for a while. "I have three sisters," she said, at last, "and between them, they have eight children. My brothers do other things, but in my family, daughters get married and make grandchildren. There are no other options." She sighed. "And I am barren. So what do I tell them?"
--
He had no answer for her.