“Maybe we should postpone—” Benny began with a glance at Derick, but Hanna waved him off.
“No! Trust me, if Charles stays he’ll be in a bad mood, and then Mary will roll up in her ball, and it will be like the apocalypse around here. I’m sending Charles and Mary off on a date tonight, so I just have to keep her happy for a few hours.” She took a hesitant sip of her scalding tea. “Besides, Charles needs a break.”
Benny almost smiled in response, while Derick scowled and looked away. He seemed displeased about something, though Hanna couldn’t think what. Was it the same thing that had motivated that tiny head-shake?
Charles came back downstairs, almost glowing. “She says I can—” he paused, then backpedaled. “—She’s cool with it.”
Adam snorted, and Hanna masked her grin by taking a swig of her tea.
☼
There were times in Derick’s life when he savored the state of bachelorhood. Times when he felt the absolute freedom and lack of constraint which a commitment like marriage would undoubtedly rob him of. His determination to remain a bachelor was never stronger than in Charles Musgrove’s presence.
Earlier, Derick felt a congealed sort of pity for Charles when he came downstairs with a bounce in his step, no doubt having received permission from the Mrs. to go out, as if he’d been grounded and was suddenly let off early.
Derick had nothing against the institution of marriage, per se, but having Charles as a frame of reference, he couldn’t help but feel that saying “I do” was tantamount to handing over your manhood on a silver platter.
Benny was noticeably more talkative than usual, no doubt a result of Hanna’s attentiveness toward him. She had opened him up somehow, broken his implacable, gloomy skin with her sensitivity.
“Ah . . . these two have the life, don’t they, Adam?” Charles gushed with a sigh of contentment as he sat back and waited for a tug on his line. “No nagging, no diapers, no juggling act to keep everyone happy . . .”
“It only feels like that to you because your life is so drastically different,” Benny contradicted as he cracked open a soda. “So full of noise. But the peace and loneliness get old after a while.”
Charles looked at Benny as if he was delusional, but said nothing. Benny had that faraway look on his face that told Derick he was about to hike up his pants legs and go wading in Phoebe Bay again.
Thankfully, Adam jumped onboard the rescue boat. “It’s all a matter of perspective.”
“Too much of anything gets old,” Derick added. “I’ve got to hand it to you, though, Charles. You handle Mary pretty well most of the time. I couldn’t stand tiptoeing around all the time the way you do.”
Charles laughed with derision. “If you think it’s going to be any different for you, you’re in for a rude awakening. Ella and Mary are polar opposites, but when a woman becomes a bride it’s like she’s inducted into some secret wives’ society. They have this unspoken code they live by. Say good-bye to your freedom, man. Am I right, Adam?”
Derick stilled, his insides turning to stone. In a vague sort of way he noticed Adam grinning, nodding his agreement, and Benny’s eyes widening in horror at the prospect. But it was Charles’ insinuation—that Derick would soon be in the same situation with Ella—that froze him in place. And it wasn’t so much the assumption itself as the implication that it was already a done deal, an upcoming event that the whole family was counting on.
Though he shied away from the potential unpleasantness, Derick had to be sure. Reeling in his motionless fishing line to change out the bait, he said, “Ella’s a little young to be thinking about anything serious, wouldn’t you say?”
When Charles answered, there was a shrug in his voice. “Normally I’d agree with you, but she’s been acting kind of weird lately . . .”
“What do you mean, ‘weird’?”
“Asking Mary how many karats her wedding ring is, flipping through bridal magazines at the grocery store . . .” Charles’ grin slipped off his face when he realized the effect of his words on Derick. Backpedaling, he said, “I wouldn’t take it too seriously, though. All girls do it.”
Oh, crap. He sent a probing glance at Adam and Benny. Adam looked like he was doing his best not to burst into fits of hysterical laughter, and even Benny seemed to be suppressing a grin as he recast his line.
The outing passed in a blur for Derick after that. Suddenly he viewed his actions through untainted eyes, saw the reality of his behavior and what it meant to everyone watching. He was in trouble. He cared about Ella, of that much he was sure. But it wasn’t a long-term, committed, forever kind of feeling that he expected to experience on tying himself to one woman for the rest of his life. She was pretty, fun to be with, and always kept him on his toes. But confronted with these allegations of impending commitment, Derick was forced to face his own motivation, and he didn’t like what he found. He had absolutely no intention of marrying Ella Musgrove. The thought hadn’t even entered his head until today. If her own brother had such concrete expectations, what did everyone else think? He needed an outside opinion.
After delivering Charles safely—if hurriedly—home, Adam, Benny and Derick returned to Kelynch where Derick rounded on them.
“Can you believe him going on about me and Ella like that? I think he’s been reading way too much into it.”
The deadpan expressions of his listeners did little to encourage him. His confidence wavered. “Hasn’t he?”
“Not so much, dude,” said Adam in a tone that belied his empathetic expression. I told you so was laced all throughout the words—or, Sophie told you so, in this case. Then, as if Adam meant to soften the blow, he added, “The age difference might have something to do with it. If you were closer to Ella’s age, no one would really expect you to settle down. But given the fact that you’re about eight years older . . .”
Benny expelled a frustrated breath. He’d never been one for beating around the bush, and for once Derick was grateful. “She’s obviously crazy about you, and your behavior toward her has been pretty unguarded. If you’re that taken back by this revelation, you’d better do something about it, and fast. Before someone gets hurt.”
“Who’s getting hurt?” Sophie asked, coming into the kitchen with a yawn. Her hair was rumpled as if she’d just woken up.
“Apparently Ella’s been planning a wedding,” Adam answered, in a tone that said he found the whole thing hilarious.
“That is not what Charles said,” Derick corrected through his teeth.
“My mistake—she’s been thinking about diamonds and looking through brides magazines,” Adam clarified.
Derick was panicking now. “Yeah, but that’s something girls do. Charles said it himself.”
“Because Charles is an expert on women?” Benny said.
Derick turned to Sophie. “Help?”
Sophie grimaced, indicating that anything she added would only win points for Team Adam/Benny.
“Dude, you’re screwed.” Adam chuckled.
Sophie gave her husband a disparaging look, and he promptly declared his intention of showering. Benny followed, leaving Derick and Sophie alone.
Derick sat on one of the barstools and put his head in his hands. He felt Sophie sit next to him.
“What exactly did Charles say?”
“I don’t remember his exact words . . . He said she’d been acting weird, asking Mary about her wedding ring and looking through bridal magazines.”
Sophie sighed. “I know you want me to tell you not to worry about it, and I’d like to. It’s true that some women are just girlier than others . . . but given Ella’s lack of seriousness in all other areas, it’s kind of out of character for her to go there.”
It was the last thing Derick wanted to hear, but he knew his sister was right. He put his head down on the counter, and Sophie patted his back in empathy before going back in her room—most likely to scold Adam for being so insensitive.
Derick went to his own room to clean up. H
e was supposed to be at Uppercross for a movie with Ella tonight, and he needed to think. He needed a plan.
TWENTY-ONE
THE BEST DATE
His little sturdy hands were unfastened from around her neck, and he was resolutely borne away, before she knew that Captain Wentworth had done it.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
Derick shifted uneasily on the front porch of Uppercross. Normally he would have gone to the back door, but it seemed suddenly important to downplay his intimacy with the Musgroves. He detected not a small amount of chaos on the other side of the door. The knob was turning and clicking ineffectually, telling him that a small hand was hard at work trying to open it. Finally the door opened wide, and a mischievous, smiling CJ greeted Derick. He had something that looked like chocolate smeared around his mouth (Derick didn’t want to explore other possibilities of what it might be), giving him the appearance of a macabre circus clown.
“Hi, Derick!” he shouted with the volume that only a child would use indoors.
“Hey, little man,” he responded, ruffling CJ’s hair.
Derick felt a little funny going in when there was no adult in sight, so he continued to wait outside. Just then, a harassed-looking Hanna made her way slowly to the door. Derick couldn’t help noting that her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes were washed almost colorless with fatigue. She stifled a cough with her arm before giving Derick an apologetic grimace and waving him inside.
Kneeling before her nephew, she said, “CJ, what have I told you? You let a grown-up answer the door, okay?”
CJ’s forehead creased. “But it’s only Derick!” he shouted.
“I know,” she rasped, and Derick could tell she was losing her voice. She straightened and gave Derick a halfhearted smile.
“Still feeling crappy, I take it?” he inquired, but didn’t wait for her to answer. He could tell she would rather be sleeping. “Charles and Mary already gone?”
Hanna nodded. “Come on in—Ella’s out back.”
Derick frowned as he followed Hanna into the living room, where Walter was also covered in the brown mystery goo. Scattered toys carpeted the floor along with cheerios, mini marshmallows, and empty sippy cups. Derick felt a bubble of irrational anger rise in his gut. Couldn’t they ever give her a break? Especially when she clearly wasn’t feeling well? More often than not, Mary treated Hanna like a hired hand rather than family. But Charles was usually a little more discerning when it came to these situations.
“Sorry for the mess,” Hanna apologized. “Our living standard is survive today.”
Hearing his aunt having a somewhat adult conversation, Walter looked up, and seeing Derick, screeched, “Dick!”
Hanna rolled her eyes in a helpless sort of way. “I’m so sorry. I really have been working on that with him.”
Derick shrugged. “It’s all right. Believe me, I’ve been called that plenty of times before.”
Hanna’s answering chuckle turned into a coughing fit. Ella loped into the room, throwing her arms around Derick’s neck and planting a sound kiss on his lips. He barely noticed. Hanna was wrestling with CJ, who stood up on the sofa and launched himself onto her back. Now he was chanting, “Banana Boat! Banana Boat!”
Her face flushed. “No, CJ. No Banana Boat,” she said in a firm tone, somewhat dampened by the frog in her throat.
In some far corner of his mind, Derick registered that Ella had pulled back and was talking to him, her hands still clasped about his neck. Meanwhile CJ was now screaming “Banana Boat! Banana Boat!” and Hanna was all but hollering herself as she tried to undo his Kung Fu grip around her neck. Walter, upset by the din, had fastened himself to her leg and was pulling at her shirt and wailing.
Without really thinking about what he was doing, Derick effortlessly broke Ella’s hold and stepped around her to intervene. First he lifted CJ off Hanna’s back, then bent and picked up the sobbing Walter with the other arm. As he did so, he brushed Hanna’s skin with his own and noted how warm she felt. She looked up at him with a mystified expression.
“CJ,” Derick began, “if you like Banana Boat, you’re going to love the Derick Ship!” CJ’s round face broke into a hopeful grin, and Walter had now stopped crying and was instead trying to poke his slime-coated fingers in Derick’s mouth.
“Dick ship!” he slurred.
“But only if you’re good boys. Banana needs some rest, so she’s going to bed and we’re going to clean you two up, and then we’ll play.” Derick cast a questioning glance at Ella, only a formality, really—he wasn’t asking permission. Everyone else had gone off to have fun and left Hanna to deal with everything else, and he was not about to join that party. Besides, the boys would provide some much-appreciated distance and distraction he needed to gear up for the “talk” he and Ella would be having at some point.
As he had known she would, Hanna began to protest, but another coughing fit made Derick’s point for him. “To bed with Banana and to the tub with you two,” he said, heading for the stairs and rocking the boys back and forth as if they were at sea on a swaying ship. Their squeals of delight almost made up for their awful behavior to their aunt. Almost.
Several moments later, as the boys splashed in the tub, Derick left the washing to Ella and veered down the hall in search of towels. To his surprise and annoyance, Hanna emerged from the double doors at the end of the hall, a new diaper in one hand and her arms full of pajamas, lotion, and baby powder. Derick sighed, glaring down at her. Firmly but gently, he took everything from her and tucked it under his arm.
Placing his free hand at the back of her neck, Derick guided her down the hall. He didn’t actually know which room was hers, as Ella’s room was on the main floor and he never had a reason to go upstairs.
Hanna’s skin was burning. Aside from that, memories of other times he had touched her in the same place—but in an entirely different way—fought their way to the surface.
“I’ll lock you in your room if that’s what it takes to keep you down,” he threatened. “Which room is yours?”
Hanna gestured tiredly, then turned to face him. “This really isn’t—” she began, but Derick cut her off.
“—Necessary, I know.”
Hanna gave him a self-deprecating smile, and he leaned against the doorframe. “Can I ask you something?”
Hanna looked surprised. “Of course.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Derick took a moment to frame the words in his head before speaking them. “If I told you . . . that Ella and I were . . . getting married,” he finally managed, though the word felt toxic leaving his mouth, “would you be surprised?”
Slowly, she shook her head, a sorry little smile breaking over her face. She couldn’t know how that smile made the rock in his stomach drop farther, burrow deeper.
“You deserve to be happy, Derick. You both do. It’s like you’re a completely different person with her.”
Derick couldn’t tell from her expression if that was a positive thing or not. Looking down, he sighed, shoved a hand in his pocket. “You should get some rest,” he told her, lifting his hand to brush some hair out of her eyes. Had he meant to do that? Trying to cover the gesture, he pressed his palm to her forehead instead. “You feel warm,” he informed her, hoping that the words would detract from his thoughtless action. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” Derick assured her, backing down the hall and forcing himself to turn away from her.
☼
Around the time the boys fell asleep and Derick was faced with the unpleasant prospect of “talking” with Ella, Charles and Mary returned from their date. Charles, having obviously reached his threshold for spending time with his wife, was thrilled to find Derick still at Uppercross. Oblivious to the fact that he was intruding on his little sister’s date, Charles plopped down next to them on the couch and flipped on the TV. Ella rolled her eyes at her brother but seemed content to watch Sports Center as long as Derick’s arm stayed around her shoulders. Now that Derick knew wh
at he wanted, or rather, what he didn’t want, continuing in his present course felt like a lie.
He had paid careful attention to any hints Ella might drop about her hopes for the future. She seemed mostly the same, except for a comment about kids not being so bad after all. That made up Derick’s mind for him.
It was almost like being burned alive, sitting here with Charles on his left and Ella pressed into his other side—knowing that he was going to hurt her. Deciding what he needed most was distance and a close examination of his feelings, Derick said he wasn’t feeling well and went home.
That night, he slept fitfully. He dreamt of strands of seaweed twining around his neck and choking him, of being caught in some sort of net and rolled up like a fly in a spider’s trap. Just before he woke, he realized that nothing in the dream was as it seemed. The seaweed was actually tangles of long, dark hair, and the net was a bridal veil.
TWENTY-TWO
DECLINED
“I have always wanted some other motive for his conduct than appeared.”
—Anne Elliot, Persuasion
For Hanna, the weekend seemed to fly by. Perhaps it was knowing that Eli was expecting some kind of answer from her tonight, at dinner. Maybe it was waiting for Derick and Ella to drop the bomb of their impending nuptials. Hanna could only assume that Derick’s strange question on Friday night was meant to prepare her. Although, at the time he had seemed to be almost choking on the word marriage. She kept waiting for Ella to jump out from behind corners and jab her bejeweled finger under Hanna’s nose, but as yet, it hadn’t happened.
At least her date with Eli derailed her thoughts a bit, even though it gave her a share of anxiety as well. She had thought about what he told her before leaving, that his “act” wasn’t really an act. She’d relived the kiss once or twice as well, and was still unsure how she felt about it.
Being wanted was always a desirable sentiment, especially when your first love was about to tie the knot and inadvertently become your brother-in-law. But for Hanna, being wanted wasn’t enough. It had to be about more than that. She barely knew Eli, after all, had no clue where he was staying or anything. The only things she really knew about him were that he was a photographer by trade and that his family didn’t approve of his career choice. By contrast, it seemed like he was acquainted with every little detail of Hanna’s life, including her painful past. Obviously, she liked him and was attracted to him. But she determined that she needed to know him better. If Eli cared about her as he seemed to, he would understand and want the same thing.
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