One Night Three Hearts by Adele Allaire
Authors: Adele Allaire
Tags: Literary, Psychological, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Sagas, Action & Adventure, Short Stories, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, Literary Fiction
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CHAPTER ONE
Rose
Rose flung the thick manila envelope on the passenger seat. It landed with a thump on top of the mail she collected earlier: an overdue energy bill, the latest Woman Within catalog that seemed to occupy her mailbox every other week, and what appeared to be a birthday card from her mother. The large envelope containing the in vitro fertilization cost estimates and related paperwork dwarfed everything it covered as a stark reminder of her situation.
Nothing simple ever comes with that many papers to sign , Rose thought to herself before sliding into the driver's seat. She pulled hard on the car door and slammed it shut.
She placed her worn Coach handbag on the Toyota’s console between the two seats. The bag was a birthday gift from her husband Jason five years earlier along with his bouquet of flowers that shared her name. It promptly fell over from the weight of its contents on to the passenger seat after she pulled the car’s door shut.
Rose stared at and related to its marred leather bottom as she reached for the seatbelt. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes as she yanked the seatbelt across her torso. It stopped short and got stuck at her midsection. Frustrated, she pulled hard on it again to extend it to its limits in order to finally fasten it into place.
She gazed over the steering wheel at the late afternoon sun streaming through the eucalyptus leaves hovering over the car’s hood while reflecting on the events that led to this point. They were happy five years ago when she was thirty years old; she and Jason brought home good paychecks, they purchased their three-bedroom condo, and agreed the timing was right to start a family. She started charting and they had sex multiple times in one week per month. Jason would laugh at her every time she would put her legs up on the wall afterwards as if gravity would help the situation.
Two years passed without a positive pregnancy test, and the day after Jason gave her the birthday gift of a bouquet of roses that numbered her years, they decided to take it more seriously. Rose bought ovulation kits and spent her mornings urinating on test sticks. The amount of sex eventually dwindled to the day the testing device displayed a smilie face.
The buzzing sound emanating from her bag snapped her out of her thoughts. Rose reached over and rummaged through it to find a text message from Jason waiting for her on her phone.
Jason: Damage?
Rose: 18k
Her fingers pushed her hair back from sticking to the cold sweat on her forehead. They didn’t have $18,000. They didn’t even have the money to pay that overdue gas and electric bill sitting next to her on the passenger seat until Jason’s next paycheck.
The year Jason gave her thirty-three birthday roses was when she lost her job at the accounting firm, and Jason’s employer laid off hundreds of people. The financial crisis peaked, and the stress resulting from their money worries took its toll on their marriage. The arguments increased in frequency and intensity, and Rose still couldn’t get pregnant.
Her gynecologist ultimately recommended they consult with a fertility specialist, and the only affordable option presented to them was an artificial insemination series. Rose filled her empty days fruitlessly searching for a job, reading other women’s infertility tales on internet message boards, or watching television. She developed a sedentary routine that transformed her from a size 16W to 18W. Due to their financial constraints, Jason canceled their gym memberships, and the only eating out they did consisted of fast food with the exception of their traditional birthday and anniversary dinners.
Months crept by without any kind of sex unless it surrounded a treatment, and even then it seemed forced and hurried. The absence of marital and physical joy hung like a thick fog between them, muting any discussion about their predicament. Rose felt unfulfilled and empty during this harsh low period in
Rose
Rose flung the thick manila envelope on the passenger seat. It landed with a thump on top of the mail she collected earlier: an overdue energy bill, the latest Woman Within catalog that seemed to occupy her mailbox every other week, and what appeared to be a birthday card from her mother. The large envelope containing the in vitro fertilization cost estimates and related paperwork dwarfed everything it covered as a stark reminder of her situation.
Nothing simple ever comes with that many papers to sign , Rose thought to herself before sliding into the driver's seat. She pulled hard on the car door and slammed it shut.
She placed her worn Coach handbag on the Toyota’s console between the two seats. The bag was a birthday gift from her husband Jason five years earlier along with his bouquet of flowers that shared her name. It promptly fell over from the weight of its contents on to the passenger seat after she pulled the car’s door shut.
Rose stared at and related to its marred leather bottom as she reached for the seatbelt. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes as she yanked the seatbelt across her torso. It stopped short and got stuck at her midsection. Frustrated, she pulled hard on it again to extend it to its limits in order to finally fasten it into place.
She gazed over the steering wheel at the late afternoon sun streaming through the eucalyptus leaves hovering over the car’s hood while reflecting on the events that led to this point. They were happy five years ago when she was thirty years old; she and Jason brought home good paychecks, they purchased their three-bedroom condo, and agreed the timing was right to start a family. She started charting and they had sex multiple times in one week per month. Jason would laugh at her every time she would put her legs up on the wall afterwards as if gravity would help the situation.
Two years passed without a positive pregnancy test, and the day after Jason gave her the birthday gift of a bouquet of roses that numbered her years, they decided to take it more seriously. Rose bought ovulation kits and spent her mornings urinating on test sticks. The amount of sex eventually dwindled to the day the testing device displayed a smilie face.
The buzzing sound emanating from her bag snapped her out of her thoughts. Rose reached over and rummaged through it to find a text message from Jason waiting for her on her phone.
Jason: Damage?
Rose: 18k
Her fingers pushed her hair back from sticking to the cold sweat on her forehead. They didn’t have $18,000. They didn’t even have the money to pay that overdue gas and electric bill sitting next to her on the passenger seat until Jason’s next paycheck.
The year Jason gave her thirty-three birthday roses was when she lost her job at the accounting firm, and Jason’s employer laid off hundreds of people. The financial crisis peaked, and the stress resulting from their money worries took its toll on their marriage. The arguments increased in frequency and intensity, and Rose still couldn’t get pregnant.
Her gynecologist ultimately recommended they consult with a fertility specialist, and the only affordable option presented to them was an artificial insemination series. Rose filled her empty days fruitlessly searching for a job, reading other women’s infertility tales on internet message boards, or watching television. She developed a sedentary routine that transformed her from a size 16W to 18W. Due to their financial constraints, Jason canceled their gym memberships, and the only eating out they did consisted of fast food with the exception of their traditional birthday and anniversary dinners.
Months crept by without any kind of sex unless it surrounded a treatment, and even then it seemed forced and hurried. The absence of marital and physical joy hung like a thick fog between them, muting any discussion about their predicament. Rose felt unfulfilled and empty during this harsh low period in
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