“I’m married to a black woman,” he sighed deeply.
Oddly, he felt closer to a woman he barely knew versus several he interacted with daily. Evan imagined coming in from the dock with a fresh string of fish to a movie cued up to watch after dinner and being greeted by Leta’s charming smile. Curling an arm around his wife, he settled closer, counting down to the last five hundred dollars for a closet large enough to hold anything she needed.
He rested comfortably, planning for a future with Mrs. Evan Eaton. In the morning, he would ask questions about the relationship with Claudia and what prompted Leta to board a plane to become his bride. “Yep, in the morning,” he sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of the soap she used on her lovely brown skin.
LETA STRETCHED TO HER full five-foot seven-length, splaying her toes wide, extending the muscles through a soft yawn. She extended her arms to greet the morning sun as the warmth in the room seeped into the exposed skin, reveling in the start of a new day. Her hand hit a solid object as if suddenly realizing she wasn’t alone in bed. Evan was in bed with her. All full of manliness. All awake and alert.
Turning to her side, she opened her eyes slowly to find Evan staring at her profile. “Good morning, Evan.”
“Morning, Leta,” he said, remaining immobile.
“You’re very solid,” she said, running her fingers over his abdomen. “No body fat.”
“And you’re very lovely first thing in the morning. So kissable,” Evan stated, leaning forward to press his lips to her cheek. “I have so many questions, but lying next to you feels right. It feels like I’ve been waiting all my life to come home to you.”
“I know. It is an odd thing, this connection between us,” she said, touching his abdomen again. “I don’t regret the decision to come here, Evan. In my heart, it felt right.”
“Leta, I would like to talk about it,” he said, running a finger over the full mouth. “I want to know about your relationship with Claudia. I want to know what was in my letters that made you think this was a good idea, not knowing if I would be receptive to having an African American wife in a very homogenous town.”
Leta exhaled, trying not to blow the morning breath in his face. There were so many holes to plug so much that needed to be done before the first snow hit and more than anything, she needed serious winter clothing. If last night was any indication of the cold to come, she was not prepared in the least to deal with six months of snow and ice on the ground. She also was in no hurry to discuss the ice which ran through Claudia’s veins.
“Claudia and I have been friends since the fourth grade,” she started. “She and I were the only two non-Catholics at St. Mary’s in our grade. Also, we didn’t have any siblings at the school.”
“Yeah, I know how that can be,” he replied.
“Most of the Irish families after the civil war moved to Dublin, Georgia, but a good number still remain in Atlanta, and they have stair stepper children,” Leta said. “Claudia was a brunette and I was the black girl, so we were immediately singled out. We became allies. Our friendship continued throughout high school. Claudia was a cheerleader and I participated in the flag corp.”
“You went to college together as well?”
“Actually, no,” Leta said. “Claudia started at Georgia Southern and spent more time partying than studying and was brought home to attend Georgia State. I attended Clarke Atlanta and went on to do my graduate work at Emory. We did have an apartment together for a while.”
“I don’t want to assume anything, but I take it a man made you seperate?”
“You assume correctly. I got engaged to a man she didn’t like and she was dating people who refused to close the bathroom door when they took a whiz,” Leta said. “Nothing says good morning like seeing a strange dick before your coffee.”
Evan laughed, thinking about a similar experience. “Funny, I know what that’s like. My college roommate was my cousin Reverend Rick,” he said. “This was before he took the cloth, and usually in the mornings I could tell which on campus party he’d been to by the woman in the bathroom the next day. Revolving doors are only good in busy buildings, not the place you live.”
“A kindred soul,” Leta said. She lay her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. Steady. Even. Solid. “Evan, my friend was also changing. The pretty girl accustomed to getting all the attention had begun to age. The years of late nights, partying with little sleep and poor nutrition habits to stay thin had started to show. Her parents were urging her to marry. The years kept ticking by and suddenly she found herself at thirty-five years old and the prospects for that life in the suburbs as a pro-athlete’s wife had passed. Hence, the mail-order bride scenario.”
Evan raised his head to look down at her face, “How did you know about my letters?”
“Oh she made a point to share each one with me, to rub it in my face that I was single, and had been for nearly five years,” she said to him. “She found the whole thing to be humorous.”
“Humorous?”
“The fact that she sent you a photo of herself in that swimsuit yet you never reached out to video chat, nor did your letters pertain any sexual references,” Leta said. “Claudia thought you’d be a dud in bed and she kept second-guessing herself. Then three weeks ago, she came over to my place and started talking about Kevin and Cabo.”
“Who is this Kevin guy who stole Claudia from me?”
“Kevin plays for the Falcons,” she said. “He’s had one too many tackles if you ask me and possesses the mentality of a frat boy with a few bucks. You know the type, the good-time guy in his late twenties who loves to travel to sunny places and hook up with random women. The strong jawline, loads of muscles, limited vocabulary kind of guy who relies on his looks to get him through life.”
“They sound like a good match,” he said, “I think I dodged a bullet, but that doesn’t explain why you came. What was in the letters that made you leave your life behind to take such a huge chance and come here?”
Leta’s head rose as she shifted her position in the bed. She turned her body to come to a sitting position, folding her legs lotus style and facing Evan. A soft smile formed at the corner of her lips.
“The sheer idea that every single week you sent a letter touched me,” Leta said. “The letters weren’t earth-shattering and didn’t contain any broad revelations on the existence of mankind, but the commitment of sitting down, penning by hand these words about the life here the two of you would share, made me want what you offered. The images of you on the dock bringing in fresh fish to cook for dinner took me back to simpler times. I wanted that for me.”
“Leta, what about the man? There was a man in the photo holding the fish. Tell me, what made you want me as your husband?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him. Leta tried hard not to blink because she knew it would make the tears fall and then there would be no stopping the flow of sadness which had sat in her soul for five lonely years. Online dating hadn’t worked for her. Trying to date the snakes who hung around the pulpit looking for fresh victims to sink their fangs into hadn’t worked, and most definitely the men in the insurance profession had no idea what to do with a woman like her.
“The letters spoke of this loneliness for a person who could understand you and the ideals you represented,” she said, wiping away the tears. “All you asked for was a wife to love you and share this home. Claudia was too selfish to see a good thing when it was sent to her every week on linen paper. I’m tired of being lonely too, Evan. I want a simple life with a man who wants what I want. A nice, uncomplicated life filled with love, laughter, and children who will grow up to be good people. That’s why I came. That’s why I’m here. Plus, I couldn’t allow her to take everything from you.”
“I would have lost this land if you hadn’t come,” he said. “I thought about it a great deal over the years and to just give it to Rick, but my family has been on this land for generations. I just happened to
go through some old files stores in the clerk’s office and saw the declaration and the expiration date on the bond my father had to the city. If an Eaton family didn’t exist on the property by the end of next year, the land would go back to the township of Meredith.”
“Evan it didn’t seem fair for Claudia to disappoint you and put your land in jeopardy. It was stupid of me, but I hoped that what I read in the unspoken words of the letter was the plea of a man for a life partner, not just a wife,” she told him. “The color of my skin seemed irrelevant to what was a stake, but if you don’t think it will work, let me know.”
“It will work, Leta,” he said. “Honestly, I’ve never dated a woman of color because there aren’t that many around these parts, and it never dawned on me that one would be interested in me. I’m kinda flattered that I could pull a beautiful woman like you. Obviously, based on what I saw yesterday, you don’t need me.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “I need you more than you can ever know. I’m starving, plus we need to get out of this bed before you start getting ideas.”
“I have all sorts of ideas going through my head, Leta,” he said giving a wicked smile.
And there it was—the sexual side of the man that he took careful effort to tamp down. A warmth filled her center at the thought of that wicked little grin and those lips covering parts of her skin with hot kisses.
“Oh goodness, I think we definitely need to get to church this morning,” she said, climbing out of bed.
“I don’t want to go to church,” Evan said, gripping her hand and giving it a slight tug, pulling her back on the bed. “The idea of a lazy day in bed, reading, making out, and talking about everything and nothing in general sounds preferable.”
Leta sat on the side of the bed, one hand on Evan’s thigh. She intentionally didn’t caress it but added a bit of pressure when speaking to him.
She asked, “A compromise then...church, order a pizza and wings and spend the rest of the day watching old movies, cuddling, making out?”
“You have a deal. Kiss on it?”
“Don’t you mean a shake?”
“A shake is not going to get me out of this bed,” Evan said.
“A kiss is not going to get you out of it either,” Leta said, “but again, a compromise.”
She leaned forward, her lips puckered for a peck. Evan surprised her by pulling her down on the bed, his lips pressed to hers. Leta’s mouth opened slightly as his tongue slid inside, gently touching the tips together. His hand, hot as the temperature of the room, slipped under her pajama top, stroking the soft skin on her belly, yet didn’t go any further. Leta moaned into his mouth, her fingers going into the deep brown hair, tugging gently. Evan let her go.
“Yeah, Im’ma need a minute,” he said, allowing his fingers to trail over her belly.
“Maybe even two,” she said, finding herself giggling as she went to the kitchen to start the coffee. “It’s going to be an awesome day!”
Chapter Seven - Graciousness
Midway through the morning service at the Meredith Community Church, the start of an amazing day turned into a full-fledged shit show, complete with wailing women and a mullet mangled man-child who acted as if he’d never seen a real live black woman in his life. Leta garnered a sense of pride in her husband who held many of the lookee- loos at bay who wanted to either pet his wife or touch her hair. Evan, also filled with a sense of pride at the sheer graciousness his wife displayed instead of telling the majority of the congregation to go pleasure themselves with a sharp utensil.
“Let’s get out of here,” Evan said, tugging lightly on her arm.
“Honey. You must have some patience,” she whispered, leaning into him on the uneven wooden bench. “They are going to open the doors of the church and invite new members.”
“Well, it ain’t gonna be us,” Evan said vehemently. “These people are weird. I mean weird, even by New Hampshire standards.”
“I think they are charming.”
“If you say bless their hearts, I know it’s time to leave,” Evan said, shaking his head. “I’m creeped out.”
“Maybe it’s the woman with the wandering right eye that has you feeling off your game,” she remarked, slipping her hand into his.
“Her eye isn’t the only thing wandering. She keeps putting her hand on my leg. I’m starting to question what kind of church this is,” he said to Leta, who pressed her lips together to prevent bursting into laughter. Instead of swatting the woman’s hands, she placed her hand, intertwined with her husband’s into his lap.
“It’s almost over,” she said, petting him with a warm hand.
Evan liked the feel of her hands on him. More than anything he wanted to get the hell out of the church of the weirdness and head home. A good movie, a nice lunch and more snuggling with his adorably, attractive, amusing wife were in order. Just as he thought they were destined for an escape, a tall man with a ridiculously long beard spoke to him as the church service came to an end.
“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” Evan said, giving his eyebrows a slight arch.
“Yes, I said it’s a pleasure to have you come worship with us,” the man said. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
He blinked several times trying to recall the face of the man with the twenty-year long beard. The face didn’t register with him but the realization that at some point the man had stood in front of his counter to pay a bill, a tax, or to record a moment of his life, and Evan hadn’t taken the time to learn his name, troubled him. Shaking his head, he said softly, “No, I’m sorry I don’t.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Since I grew out the beard a lot of folks don’t recognize me,” he said, tucking the beard down in his tee shirt. “I’m Hazel’s oldest.”
Evan’s shock was evident. His mouth formed a big oval O, and he sputtered a bit as if he’d just found out someone was expecting a child from a married man.
“Good grief Donnie, look at you,” Evan said shocked at the large burly man. “What are you doing with yourself now?”
“Took over the lumber mill for my Pa, but you know how I always loved building stuff,” Donnie said blushing a bit under the gaze of Leta. “Evan, who’s the lady?”
“Sorry, I was so shocked by the long beard, it threw me. Donnie this is my wife Leta. Honey, this a Hazel’s oldest son, Donald, but we call him Donnie.”
Leta didn’t miss a beat. In her knowledge of people, she’d learned the easy way, that voluntary information was given for the recipient to discern how to use what had been shared. She offered a smile along with, “Pleasure, but did I hear you say you like to build things; what sort of things?”
Donnie blushed harder, “Porches, fire pits, outdoor living spaces. I’d like to invite you guys over to see my place. Look at some of the stuff I’ve done. I mean, I get use out of my patio all year round. Even have like winter grilling and stuff. You oughta see it.”
“We will swing by,” Evan promised.
“Whatcha doing now? Come on by and take a gander,” Donnie said.
Evan paused, looking at his wife whom he really wanted to get home and spend time under the ministrations of those warm hands, but Donnie wanted him to see the outdoor living space for a reason. “We have to make it quick,” Evan offered as a consolation to his desire to be alone with his wife.
“No problem. It’s on the way, just off Muller’s Crossing,” Donnie said.
“Lead on my builder,” Evan replied, touching his wife in the small of her back.
Leta didn’t question Evan as he led her to the car. She immediately noticed her husband drove in silence with no music playing. Her eyes remained focused on the road as Evan followed Donnie from the church, down Daniel Webster Highway until the road turned into Highway 104, sweeping wide the city entering in the small hamlet of New Hampton. Truthfully, it wasn’t directly on the route home, but a nice ride after Sunday service took Leta back to her childhood with her family. A whimsical smile adorned her
face as she looked out the window.
“What’s with the Joker grin?” Evan asked.
“I don’t know. I guess today took me back to my childhood,” Leta said in a soft tone. “After church, we loaded up in my father’s Cadillac, you know, the Sunday car, and rode to the lake. We alternated on Sunday’s depending on the weather, to my Grandmother’s house, or we went to the all you could eat buffet. Each week after church it was a new adventure. This reminded me of that.”
“We could start our own tradition if you like and make each Sunday after church a new adventure,” Evan suggested.
Leta, excited, shifted in the seat. “You can bring your camera and take photos of your Meredith,” she replied with a bright smile.
“Take photos, I never thought of doing it on a regular basis,” he said.
“I was also toying with another idea,” she stated, tapping a pink polished index finger on her chin. “What do people in Meredith do in the wintertime?”
“Well, most of the younger crowd enjoy outdoor activities like ice skating, snowmobiling, ice fishing, cross-country skiing, and sledding to name a few things.”
“What if none of those things float your bobbin? I mean I’m sure women quilt, knit and book clubs and stuff, but what if you don’t really want to get cold and wet, or be bothered with other people. What then?” She asked.
“Then you sit your sour-faced ass at home and do you,” Evan said, glancing at her sideways.
“Oh wow, thanks,” she replied turning up her nose.
“Sorry, me and people...don’t like ‘em a whole lot,” Evan grumbled.
“So I see,” she said, gently punching him in the arm. “That attitude leads me to my next thought. What if you started a puzzle business based on your photos?’
“A what? A puzzle business?”
“Yes, based on photos taken of New Hampshire,” she said. “The state’s not that big. Our honeymoon could be a week in New Hampshire. We make the ultimate guide book for visitors to the state outside of the Presidential Primaries, and we create our own homegrown puzzles.”
Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts Page 6
