Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband)

by McLeod, Dinah

  “Ow,” she groaned pitifully. “I don’t want to ruin our trip, Oliver.”

  “It’s not ruined,” I assured her. “I caught two fish earlier.”

  She grinned at me, but it quickly turned into a grimace as we kept walking. It was like a game of “Mother May I”—we were only allowed tiny baby steps forward. “That’s great, honey,” she said, referring to the fish.

  “Speaking of, since when do you go fishing?”

  She laughed at my question. It was one of my favorite hobbies, and I’d asked her along more times than I could count, but she’d never been interested. “I thought I’d give it a shot.”

  “Where’d the pole come from?” I asked, my arm wrapped around her waist as we limped along.

  “I went to the camp store and bought it. I was headed your way when I fell.”

  “You should pay more attention,” I scolded gently.

  “I know,” she replied.

  “I thought you’d gone back to sleep,” I commented.

  “Probably should have,” she muttered, and we both laughed. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

  “Hmm,” I replied, striving to sound noncommittal. She wasn’t the only one, though she didn’t know it yet. I wondered how she’d react when we got home and talked about it. I was going to tell her that things couldn’t keep going as they had been. I loved her, and we had a good marriage, but it would be even better with the few changes we would make, that I would enforce.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she surprised me by saying. “I should have called about the car. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s OK,” I replied, readily enough.

  “It’s not,” she insisted. “If I’d done what you asked, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Aren’t you mad?”

  I gave her a surprised sidelong glance. “It’s hard to be mad when you already know what I’d say.”

  “So why don’t you say it, if you’re thinking it?”

  I thought about that one for a minute. “I guess because I thought you had enough on your plate without me nagging you about something you can’t change.”

  “But you never get on to me,” she observed.

  I stopped, pulling her against me and turning to look into her eyes. “Are you complaining?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m complaining, exactly…but yes, I guess I’d like to know if I do something that bothers you.”

  I shook my head at her. Who was this woman? “Wouldn’t your girlfriends kill for a husband who doesn’t hound them? Who doesn’t tell them what to do?”

  “Oh, they think you’re amazing.”

  “And what do you think?”

  She dropped her eyes to stare at the ground before she answered, hesitantly, “I think that… I think that if you… if you were to hold me accountable for the things that I… that I do wrong, I think that would be…” She stammered, blushing hotly.

  “That’s what you want?” I asked in surprise.

  She still did not meet my eyes as she nodded. I was blown away. Here I had been worried about how she’d take this new change in our lives, and she was practically asking me for it! “I had been thinking the same thing.”

  The words were barely out before her eyes leaped to my face. “You were?” she asked in a breathy whisper. I nodded my confirmation. “But why now? Why did you never… put your foot down?”

  I laughed at her generous assessment. “You mean, why was I such a push over? I don’t know. I guess I thought that’s what you wanted. I thought you liked doing whatever you wanted, when you wanted.”

  She shrugged, seeming at a loss for words. I knew all of this would take a lot of processing for us both.

  “My dad always had the final say when I was growing up.”

  “Really?” she asked, seeming surprised. She knew my dad as a big teddy bear. I could see from the expression on her face that it was hard for her to think of him as anything but an old softie—that was probably where she’d assumed I’d gotten it from.

  “Yes. He never criticized my mother in public, or me, for that matter. But back at home, he was the king of the roost, and he’d make any issues known. My mother deferred to him, and that’s how their marriage was. I didn’t think about it much at the time. My brother is the same with his wife, actually.”

  “So…” as tentative as her voice was, her eyes were bright. “What you’re saying is, it’s just taken you a little longer to follow the family tradition?”

  I laughed at her, long and hard, until she was giggling too. “Come on, you. We’re never going to get anywhere like this.” With that, I bent over and pulled her into my arms. As gently as I could, I swung her around and she grabbed hold of my neck.

  “Oliver! Put me down!” she protested, even as she wrapped her legs around my waist.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” I said, striding forward with her on my back.

  “Too long,” she agreed, and I could make out the happiness in her voice. “I feel like a kid again.”

  Chapter 6

  Alicia

  “Looks like a sprain,” the medic said, frowning as he observed my swollen ankle. “What’d you do?”

  “I tripped.”

  The medic, whose nametag read “Jeanne” arched an eyebrow at my husband, as if to say, over what? Oliver just gave her a patient smile. He was used to dealing with my clumsiness and all that entailed. I could hardly remember a day I hadn’t sported some sort of bump or bruise, and from the looks of this one…

  “Well, I’d say you’re definitely out of the woods, so long as you’re careful,” Medic Jeanne said, still eyeing it thoughtfully. “Lots of ice, obviously, and I can give you a few pills for the pain, until you can get in to see a doctor. And don’t put a lot of weight on it for the time being. Your doctor will probably want to X-ray it.”

  I groaned aloud, but before I could open my mouth to reply, Oliver was reaching out a hand and saying, “Thank you very much. I’ll see to it.”

  She charged twenty dollars for the four Lortab, which I thought was absolutely outrageous. I tried to tell Oliver, but he shushed me—actually shushed me!—like I was a child, and in front of Jeanne the medic, no less. She left after giving a final warning about taking it easy, and handing over a bottle of water.

  “Take one now,” he urged, handing me the water.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I worried, nibbling on my lower lip. “You know how out of it drugs make me.”

  He nodded, but still thrust the pill at me. I sighed in resignation and put it on my tongue. In two sips, it was down my throat and the medicinal taste was out of my mouth. I thought of making a sarcastic comment, but thought better of it.

  “Why don’t you sit down, and get some of the pressure off your leg?” he suggested. When I had obeyed and was sitting comfortably—albeit with a throbbing ankle—he crouched down to meet me at eye level. “Do you want to stay here while I go and pack up? I’ll bring the car for you. It shouldn’t take too long, maybe an hour. I’ll make better time if I go by myself though.”

  “Oh, come on!” I exclaimed. “Let’s not let a little thing like this ruin our vacation!” I pleaded.

  “‘Little thing’?” he echoed in disbelief. “Honey, that thing is still swelling, and it’s going to hurt like a bitch in the morning.”

  “Oliver!” I scolded half-heartedly. I knew he was right. It was going to bruise terribly, too. I’d probably be feeling this most recent act of klutziness for the next week.

  “It’s true. We can’t stay. You heard Jeanne said; you need to see a doctor.”

  “It’s our first vacation since Jonah was born,” I cajoled. “How long is it going to be until we have another one?”

  “Alicia—”

  I forged ahead, trying to ignore the furrowing of his brow and the warning tone. “I’ll wait here until you get the car. We can just go back to the campsite. It’ll be fine.”

  Oliver looked out the window, eyeing the sky thoughtfull
y before turning back to me. “I am going to say yes, but there are rules you will follow. One, you are not going to be walking about and doing as you please. You will rest. Understand?”

  I was more than a little surprised. Oliver had never given me rules before. But I was too thrilled with having won this battle to argue, so I nodded dutifully.

  “And you will keep ice on it until I say otherwise. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And we will be leaving in the morning, first thing. And you won’t argue about it.” Oliver looked at me sternly, but cut me off when I opened my mouth to reply. “And just so you know, if you choose to argue now, we’ll pack up and go straight home.”

  With a sigh, I hung my head, which my husband correctly took as my assent. “OK,” I said grudgingly.

  “I’m going to see if anyone here has jumper cables or a battery pack,” he said, leaning over to give me a kiss. “Be right back.”

  My eyes followed him as he walked throughout the store, stopping by the desk to talk to the owner. When he walked back toward me, he was clutching a battery pack in his hand and grinning. With a wave, he set off.

  Since he didn’t have to pack up camp, it only took Oliver about fifteen minutes to walk to get the car and drive back. It was a good two and a half miles away, but my husband was in incredible shape. I did my own part to keep him exercised, after all. The thought brought a smile to my face, and I wondered if he would frown on having a little fun. I didn’t have to move, after all.

  “Let me carry you,” he said, frowning at the fact that I’d been standing by the door waiting.

  “I have my leg in the air,” I said, heading off a reprimand.

  “So you do. Come on.” Oliver took me in his arms before I could protest. I was starting to feel bad for his back, which I was sure would ache in the morning, but I couldn’t deny that it was nice to be in the safety his arms.

  By the time we got to the tent, we were both exhausted, worn out by the events of the day, and a light drizzle was coming down. Oliver helped me lay down on the inflatable mattress and propped my ankle up on his pillow. “Be right back,” he promised, kissing me lightly on the lips.

  While I waited, I experimentally tried to shift my weight, wincing as my ankle moved. The Lortab had kicked in, though, and was making me feel hazy.

  “Look what I brought along,” Oliver said, poking his head in the tent.

  “A present?”

  “You bet.” When he walked in, he was holding a bottle of my favorite blush wine and two glasses.

  “How’d you pack those without me seeing?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Oh, I have my ways.”

  Oliver filled our glasses and we toasted our rare alone time, and to a hopefully uneventful night. After my first glass, I found myself drifting off, mumbling about mixing drugs and alcohol. Oliver rubbed my back until I was fast asleep.

  * * * * *

  I was woken by the feel of water on my face. I’d just cracked an eye open when Oliver jumped up. “We sprang a leak!” he announced.

  I sat up, seeing the water raining in as steadily as though there were a hole in the tent. Gusts of wind had the flaps moving, and I shivered in the sudden cold. Oliver was rushing around, trying to staunch the flowing water with an armful of clothes—my best sweater was in that pile, I noted with alarm. Right before my eyes, the doorway was peeled back by the wind, and water began to pool in the bottom of the tent on that side as well.

  So much for an uneventful evening, I thought. Honestly, how could two people have such bad luck? Oliver did as best he could, and then came around to secure the opening to the tent as well. We sat huddled together and shivering as he stroked my wet hair. I sneezed loudly, and then again.

  “That’s it,” my husband announced, squeezing my hand. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “But it’s too late to drive,” I protested.

  “How could you still want to stay here even now?”

  “The weather’s miserable, babe.”

  “I know, but it’s not getting any better sitting here. Tell you what. Why don’t we check into the hotel on site?”

  “They have a hotel on a campground?” I asked incredulously.

  “Seems like it. I saw it when I was drove back to get you. Want to see if they have a room left?”

  Boy, did I! The idea of a comfortable bed, a shower, coffee! My mind swam with visions of curling up in bed and watching TV and ordering a hot meal from room service.

  I could tell something was wrong the moment we stepped inside the room. There was a musty smell that was overpowering in the dimly lit, tiny room, mixed with something else strong and pungent. I turned to Oliver. “Is that…”

  “It reminds me of our college days!” he agreed, laughing. “Do you remember those parties?” he asked, walking toward the TV.

  “How could I forget?” I laughed.

  “Well, I didn’t know, you always got more baked than anyone else in the room!”

  “Um, excuse me?” I asked, indignant. “Do you forget that you always did the craziest dares after you smoked? All your frat brothers waited until you had a joint and then had you streak across campus!”

  “Everyone always thinks the person next to them is more baked than they are,” he said, shrugging. “But if you want, we can take this wager to the next high school reunion.”

  “Well in any event,” I said hastily, “I may have been able to handle the smell then, but I can’t now.” I could already feel the beginnings of a headache on the edges of my temples.

  “Yep,” Oliver said, shutting the TV cabinet. “I can’t even find a remote. Let’s call them and get another room.”

  When we finally settled into a room that didn’t smell like a college dorm, I changed into my pajamas. Oliver had promised to help me shower in the morning. He helped me settle in under the covers beside him, and finding nothing he was interested in watching, he turned off the remote and pulled out the latest book he was reading. Feeling overcome with fatigue, I rolled over and closed my eyes. I was starting to drift off when I felt him shifting beside me.

  “Honey?”

  “Hmm?” I groaned.

  “I was just thinking… why do you like me to spank you?”

  As tired as I was, my favorite S word had the usual energizing effect, and I found myself sitting up, turning toward my husband. “You mean, why did I ask you to?” I grinned at his nod. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now.”

  “I know you like it,” he agreed. “But why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a fetish. I think it’s sexy.”

  “And when I spanked you the other night? What did you think then?”

  Remembering it, I felt the same flush of anger that I’d had after the punishment. “I didn’t like it,” I admitted.

  “But you like the idea of me being in charge?”

  I looked him straight in the eye, choosing my words carefully. “I think that I need help in some areas.”

  “And you’re OK with giving me the final say, and all that comes along with that?”

  I shifted uncomfortably and winced at the pain that shot through my body at the movement. “Well…”

  “You can’t do that. You can’t say you want it and then hesitate when it has a negative consequence,” he commented. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. I want to make sure we’re on the same page before we move forward.”

  “I mean, what does that mean, exactly? The final say, I assume, is that you get to veto my decisions.” I couldn’t help but pout at the thought.

  Oliver noticed and laughed before gently chucking me under the chin. “Yes, that’s one way to put it. But I will always hear you out, Alicia. I need to know that you trust me to do the right thing for our family. This is new to both of us, and I might do some things you don’t like, or make rules you think are unfair. I will always listen to your input, and I will do my best to fair.”

  “More rules?”

  “More rule
s,” he agreed. “We talked about setting expectations, remember?”

  I remembered; I’d just hoped that he’d forgotten. “Yes, of course.”

  “I want us to have a long, happy marriage. I’ve loved the last sixteen years with you, and with us tweaking our relationship, I’m looking forward to the next sixteen even more than before.”

  I couldn’t deny that this new take-charge Oliver excited me. He was right, but something inside of me still fought, afraid of making too many changes. “What if I hate it?” I burst out. “What if I can’t?”

  “Can’t what?”

  “Can’t …” I lowered my eyes to inspect my nails. “Can’t do this perfect wife thing?”

  “Look at me, Alicia.” When I didn’t, Oliver tilted my chin up so that I was forced to meet his eyes. “You have got to get better about doing as I say, honey.”

  “Are you going to spank me for not jumping when you say jump?” I asked pertly.

  “No, but I will spank you for your attitude. Consider that your warning.”

  Something inside me yielded. He really was serious, wasn’t he? We were going to do this? It did feel like a jump: exhilarating and terrifying at once. “What if I hate it, Sir?” I repeated, my tone more respectful.

  “Then we’ll talk about it, honey. Like always.”

  Staring into his warm, brown eyes, and seeing the love he had for me was my undoing. With a sigh, I let go of my heart and put it in his hands. “OK.”

  “OK?” he repeated. “Does that mean-?”

  “I trust you,” I said simply.

  He leaned forward and took me by the shoulders before his lips met mine in a kiss so passionate I wanted to swoon. “I will do my best to lead by example,” he promised.

  “I know.”

  “And I’ll get started on those rules. When I’m finished, why don’t we go sit down to dinner and talk about them, see if there’s anything you want to add?”

  “Oh, I get to make rules?” I asked, my interest piqued. “What about no kissing before you brush your teeth in the morning? No more wearing jeans to bed?”

  “Maybe we should go to Fredrick’s to talk about it,” he suggested, a gleam in his eye.