“Miss, I am so very sorry. There was nothing we could do.”

Jacqueline looks down at the silent baby enveloped in her arms. His eyes were half closed, his head leaning away from her. She tilts his head back towards her to look at his innocent face. A tear slips down her pale cheek and gingerly lands on his. His little fingers become limp around hers, so she grabs tighter. She watches, distressed but quiet, as her newborn baby takes his last breath.

“Charles.”

“I’m sorry?”

“His name would have been Charles. Charles Jr. After his father.”

“Would you like anything?”

“My baby’s life.” Jacqueline looks down once more at the lifeless body wrapped in her warm embrace. She gently strokes his cheek, the rosy color gone. Once again, tears slide down her face. She turns with the sound of footsteps coming closer.

“How is my little Charles Jr.? Sorry I am late, I missed the trolley by a minute and my trainers made me trip on the pavement . Why so sad, my dear?”

Jacqueline slowly unravels her arms from the baby, watching Charles’ beatific grin transform into a solemn grimace.

“I demand to know what happened this instant! Where is that doctor? That bloody —“

“Charles! Stop this at once!” Jacqueline yells, her voice catching in her closing throat as she fights back tears once more.

“Why should I? My third son has passed, not even living twenty minutes. I demand some type of atonement from this hospital.”

“His lungs did not form properly. He could not breathe outside of the womb. The doctor did everything he could.” Charles’ face collapses, lamenting the loss. She could almost see the vehemence building up in the crypt inside his heart. The doctor comes back and Jacqueline could feel his imminent duty creeping up on her. Reluctantly, unwillingly, she hands off her baby. She becomes emotionless, trapped inside her own body. Charles sits down next to her and wraps her in his arms. Jacqueline looks at her husband and notices the dark circles under his eyes, purple and puffy. He leans down and kisses her forehead. Jacqueline cannot imagine reliving this horror. Losing her son is like losing a part of her heart; the best part, filled with love and kindness. Now, her heart is like a shard of glass; cold and hard, but easily shattered.

Charles Jr. passed 5 months ago, but the pain has not subsided in the least. Christmas is around the corner, the savory smell of freshly made oh-so-yummy plum pudding and fir trees lined with the petite berries of holly trees and bright fairy lights , reminding her of everything her son is missing. Jacqueline wonders what is taking Charles so long. She has been expecting him for a little bit over an hour. Brought back to attention by a knock on the door, she springs up off of the couch and bounds for the door. She yanks it open, realizing that it is just the mail. She bends down and picks up a small letter. She closes the door and curls back up into the soft cushions of the sofa. She unfolds the letter and immediately recognizes the almost indecipherable handwriting of her true love. With shaky hands, she begins to read the letter.

My Dearest Jacqueline,

I did not want to tell you. I stalled for many a time, trying to comprehend my impending duty. A duty for myself. I know, it is selfish, taking myself away from you, David, and Willie, but I must go and fly airplanes; that is my passion. I hope you can understand. I love you. I will see you in a few months.

-Charles
Jacqueline lays on the sofa, the musty smell of old cotton filling her nose as she buries her face farther and farther into the pillows. Her tear-stained face becomes emotionless as the last tear rolls slowly down her cheek. She cannot believe what is happening. And so soon.

"Mum?" Her son William sits down next to her motionless body. William begins to poke Jacqueline's hollow face, trying to get her attention. He begins to pull on her long, straggly and un-washed blonde hair, trying to get her to finally move her chapped lips and speak.

Becoming agitated, Jacqueline pushes herself up off of the sofa, realizing that if she loves her son, she has to comfort him and be a martyr. She wraps him in her arms, explaining what was going on.

"Daddy has a job, Willie. He will be back shortly."

"Why can't daddy just stay?" Jacqueline hesitates. She knows her little toddler will not understand. No matter how much it torments her, she needs to make him feel like everything is normal.

"Sometimes people have things they need to do. Here, why don't we watch the tube ?" Jacqueline leads William over to the dusty black box in the corner of the room. She raises the antennas and turns the dials until she finds the right channel. There is not anything very interesting on, but everything captivates little William. He is so curious.

She casts a look at her son. Instead of bawling, William's little blue eyes widen with awe and he starts to mutter to himself as the black and white figures dance across the small and staticky screen. Looking at his content face, she tries to gouge out her berating feelings that somehow, everything is her fault.

Jacqueline longs for her husband's strong embrace, shielding her from every little horror in the world. The rain, the scolding of disappointed parents. Everything. He always knows what to say, what to do, when to do it. Charles is just a perfect partner that Jacqueline simply cannot live without. Every minute, her heart yearns for him, dying for one more glimpse at his chiseled face.

Jacqueline knows that Charles is only leaving for two months, but somehow after all they have lost, she still feels like she is losing him forever.

Feeling helpless, Jacqueline wants to start making money to become an independent woman, which is so rare these days. Charles will send home his monthly pay, but that is simply not enough for a young woman and her two sons. Jacqueline picks up the morning’s paper and analyzes the “want” ads. Most of the jobs listed are for men; mailman, switchbox operator, and so on. Jacqueline runs her finger down the list, praying for a woman’s job to be available. Rarely ever were there ones for women, except for being a nanny. She already has enough children to worry about. Finally, she finds one. It is a part time job, working for Britain’s biggest telephone company. It makes only a small pittance, but with Charles’ monthly pay, it should be enough. Right away she calls the number listed and schedules an interview.

The next day, Jacqueline wakes up exceptionally early to get ready for her big interview. She applies a light eye shadow and some bright red lipstick. She picks out an outfit that looks like she could almost be a flight attendant, which leads her train of thought right back to Charles’ absence. She wonders why she has not heard from him.

As Jacqueline is touching up her seemingly perennial hair, something dawns on her. What will she do with little Dave and Willie?

As a woman, walking in high heels is no easy task. Especially when you are dragging around two fussy toddlers. Jacqueline pushes through the front doors of an antique-looking building with chips in its fading red brick facade.

“Hello, Miss. How may I help you today?” a rather petite woman calls from behind the massive counter with dozens of phones filed in a neat line, always ringing.

“I am here for an interview for the new job opening.”

“Oh, right this way. And who are these two handsome young men?” the lady comes out from behind her desk and pinches David and William’s cheeks until they start to frown.

“These are my two sons, David and William.”

“So, you’re married?”

“Yes, I am married and I am a mum .”

“To have this job, you usually have to be single. I will not rat on you, though. Give me your children while you go in. Or else, you will not get the job!” Jacqueline lets go of her children’s hands and races to make her interview on time. She can feel sweat starting to dribble down the back of her neck. She can feel her underarms becoming slightly damp. Eventually, she makes it to the interviewer’s office.

“Hello, my name is Jacqueline Lee, and I am applying for a position as a telephone operator.”

“Well, isn’t that just splendid! So, first question. Are you married?” Jacqueline hesitates. She knows that women who are married belong in the house; cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children.

“No, no I am not.”

“Uh, miss, are those your children?” the man questions her and she quickly spins around. In the doorway, she sees her two sons, each one innocently sucking a lolli .

“I am so sorry, miss. They really wanted to see you and they got away from my grasp!” the lady pants as she collapses on the wooden chair beside her.

“Can you explain this, miss?”

“I’m a widow. My husband died in, um, a plane crash. He was a pilot,” Jacqueline blurts out without thinking.

“Oh, well then. I would be happy to offer you the position.”

It is the first day on the job. Jacqueline leaves her two sons with the nanny and strolls to work. Ever since she had to get a job, it has been necessary to have a nanny. Using Charles’ pay makes the best nannies available twenty-four hours of the day.

The whole morning, she is answering multiple phone calls at once, from confused old ladies to flirty men. Then, she receives a strange phone call.

“Is this miss Jacqueline Lee?”

“Yes, speaking. How may I assist you?”

“It’s about your husband, Charles.”

“What about Charles?”

“He has, he has passed. The plane he was flying crashed into the Mediterranean Sea and killed everyone on board. Please accept my condolences. Goodbye.”

Jacqueline holds onto the telephone long after the mystery man had hung up. Tears sting the back of her eyes as she tries to comprehend what has happened.

It is now Christmas. It has been five months since Charles Jr. died and two weeks since the news of Charles’ death. She walks over to the oven and pulls out a stack of her favorite British shortbread cookies. She curls up on the couch and indulges in the savory taste.

This is not how she imagined her Christmas. She imagined her and Charles sitting on the couch, caressing Charles Jr. as Willie and Dave extol the trinkets they were given. At the dining table, they would all sit around a large turkey, everyone flabbergasting at its sight. They would rip it apart limb by limb, Willie boisterously brandishing his bigger wishbone half in Dave’s conspicuously upset face. As she would clean up the dirty plates until they were pristine once more, Charles would play with Dave and Willie and act like cronies with them instead of a fatherly figure.
They were supposed to grow old together, maybe even get dementia, but still be with each other. Their love would be so strong that no amount of old age and forgetfulness could keep them separated. Their children would get their posthumous. But now, she was getting it. Too soon, it happened. Too soon.

Charles died doing what he loved; flying airplanes and helping people. Now that she realizes that her husband is not her whole life, what is her passion?