A Vow to Cherish by Deborah Raney Page B

into the room. He looked at her and shrugged, having no idea what he could say to her that would make things right.
    She started to cry. “Oh, John. Please. Please don’t look at me that way. I don’t want to be this way…can’t you see? I want what we had before. I want my…my life back. I want…I want…oh, I don’t even know what to say…how to say it. I don’t even know…” She gave him a look of sorrowful apology. “I’m losing my mind, John. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” She grabbed her head and started rocking.
    The resignation in her voice, in her posture, broke his heart. He went to her and sat down beside her on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace, leaning back against the headboard, cradling her in his arms.
    They lay that way for a long while, until gently, wordlessly, John got up from the bed. He kissed her cheek and pulled the covers around her, tucking her in like a small child.
    Then he went into the bathroom to perform his nightly ritual of brushing his teeth and washing his face.

Chapter Ten
    “N o, John! Please. I’m begging you. I don’t want them to worry about me!” Ellen’s voice rose an octave and she kneaded the linen placemat underneath her dinner plate.
    “They’re already worried, Ellen. I’m sorry. But I don’t think we should put this off one more day. It’s time the kids were told what’s going on.” John had agreed to hold off as long as they could, but in the months since Ellen had been diagnosed, her children had become all too aware that something was wrong, and had been for a long time.
    She looked up at John, her eyes pleading. “I don’t want to spend the time I have left with them watching me…waiting for me to do something stupid—just waiting for me to go crazy.”
    “You think it’s better for them to wonder why you’re…behaving the way you are? I’m sorry, but that’s not fair. Not to them or to you.”
    “Or to you, you mean.” Now anger tinged her voice.
    He wasn’t sure how to field that one. Yes, he wanted to get things out in the open and get it over with. And maybe it was for his own sake. It had been agony trying to keep up appearances for the kids, being careful not to slip up and say something that would give away Ellen’s secret— their secret.
    “Please, John, just let me wait until they’re all home for Christmas. We…we can tell them then—after the holidays are over. But let me have one last normal Thanksgiving and Christmas. Please…”
    He’d finally relented, but Thanksgiving was anything but normal. Ellen had been withdrawn and irritable from the moment the kids stepped through the front door. After a subdued dinner, Mark and Jana left early in the evening and the boys had decided to drive back to school Saturday morning, claiming they had papers to write before Monday morning. Worst of all, Ellen seemed not to mind—or realize—that she’d chased everyone off.
    The following week, Dr. Morton started Ellen on a new medication, and by mid-December John thought maybe it was doing some good. But then the boys came home for Christmas and Ellen sank into a depression, taking to her bed most of the time, and she was distant and short-tempered with everyone when she was awake.
    John made a wide berth for her, keeping Brant and Kyle occupied decorating for Christmas. It was a Brighton tradition, since they’d moved into the big Miles house, to outline the roof, doors and windows with white lights. He’d waited until the boys were home to help him; he certainly didn’t want Ellen on the roof. Now, perched precariously on the roof with his sons feeding him strings of lights, John was grateful for the warmer-than-usual December weather and the absence of ice or snow.
    It was late in the season to be putting up lights, but he couldn’t bear to not put them up at all. When the lights were all in place, the Brighton men put the tree up in the living room and hung five stockings on