Husband on Credit

by Lucy Evanson

  “Sir?”

  Nathan blinked a couple of times and shook his head.

  “Sorry to rush you, but I have other people waiting.”

  “That’s okay,” Nathan said. “I’ll take it. How much?”

  “Thirty-five dollars.”

  “Thirty-five?” His hand unconsciously went to the wad of bills in his pocket. “That’s a lot of money.”

  “It’s a lot of silver.”

  He glanced down at it again, thought for one more second, and began to count out thirty-five dollars onto the counter.

  Cora heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs, then the sound of Nathan’s boots on the steps.

  “Cora, can you open up for me?” His voice was muffled by the door, and she could hear something that sounded like rustling paper. “But don’t look. Close your eyes.”

  She went to the door and opened it, feeling a cold breeze as the air from the stairwell poured into the apartment. She heard Nathan go down the hall to his bedroom, rustling as he went, and then there was the sound of his door closing.

  “Can I open my eyes?”

  “Now you can,” he called.

  She could see the smile on his face from down the hall. “I see you’re in a good mood,” she said.

  “How could you not be on Christmas Eve?” he asked. “Now why don’t you come in and sit with me while I cook dinner?”

  That still sounded funny to her, but after he had made a few different things for her, Cora had become convinced that it was best to let him cook. He made everything well; only her cornbread recipe was better and she was still suspicious that he had purposely left something out of his so that she wouldn’t feel bad.

  They went to the kitchen and she sat down to watch him as he opened the packages he had brought in earlier, sorting his items and preparing to cook. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the view, as she didn’t have many chances nowadays to simply look at Nathan. The last few weeks had been somewhat strained between them; ever since they had been intimate she had been kicking herself for stepping over the line.

  Of course she had enjoyed being with him—if nothing else, she now had an even better appreciation for his lean, strong frame—but she had allowed herself to make a huge mistake when she’d leaned over to kiss him that night. She had allowed herself to behave like a wife, and since then she had spent every day trying to put things back the way they had been. It was difficult to do, however, when she could still remember the heat of his mouth, nearly branding her as he had laid kisses all over her chest.

  “Cora, I have a question for you,” he said as he pulled a mixing bowl from the cabinet and began to pour some flour inside. “Did you and your mom open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?”

  She snorted. “Who said we had presents?”

  He stopped and turned to look at her. “Are you serious?”

  She took a deep breath. “My mom was usually drunk at night and sleeping it off in the morning,” she said. “She couldn’t be bothered to remember things like Christmas presents. My grandma sometimes brought me something on Christmas Eve, though.”

  Nathan turned back to his bowl and finished with the flour before reaching for the salt. “Then Christmas Eve it is,” he said quietly, and he gave her a smile, though his eyes seemed to show sadness. He mixed the rest of the ingredients and portioned out batter into the muffin tin, then threw it into the oven and turned to a stack of thinly sliced steaks.

  “You know, it was really pretty downtown,” he said. “Everything’s decorated so nice, I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk after dinner.”

  She threw a glance toward the window, where large, fluffy snowflakes could be seen hurling themselves against the glass. “No, probably not,” she said. “Looks too cold.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “And maybe not.” He gave her an odd smile then, and turned back to his frying pan.

  By the time he was finished cooking, he had prepared a platter of fried steaks, a bowl of mashed potatoes and a heap of buttermilk biscuits.

  “Looks wonderful,” she said.

  “Just you wait. I’m not finished yet.” He went to the cabinet and removed a bottle of wine and a small package. When he unwrapped it, Cora saw that it was a small, exquisitely decorated cake.

  “So here we have drinks,” he said, raising the bottle, “and dessert.” He returned to the table, opened the wine and poured them each a glass. “I’ll make a toast, if you don’t mind.”

  She raised her glass. “Go ahead.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then paused as if he weren’t sure what to say. “Cora,” he finally began, “we’ve been through a lot together already. Some of it has been difficult. But some of it has been really, uh…really wonderful. I guess I’ll just say that I’m happy to be spending Christmas with you.”

  They each drank and then began to eat. Nathan had outdone himself for the holiday, with perfectly cooked steaks and biscuits so airy she was amazed they didn’t float away. Dessert was just as good; the cake he’d bought was perfectly moist and delicious, topped a chocolate cream frosting that had been sprinkled with crushed walnuts. When Cora finally pushed away her plate, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d eaten as well.

  Nathan poured them each another splash of wine. “I have something for you,” he said, grinning.

  “And I have something for you,” she said. “Would you like to open it now?”

  He nodded and backed his chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back.” He went to his room and she again heard the rustle of paper. “Come into the sitting room,” he called.

  When she entered, she found a huge package sitting on the sofa; its size was only matched by the smile on Nathan’s face.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “It’s enormous. What is it?”

  “Go ahead, open it.”

  She went to the sofa and began to undo the twine that was tied around the paper. Whatever was inside was not very heavy and yielded to her touch, as if it were made out of fabric. What could this be? A quilt? A bedspread? Please don’t let it be table linens.

  As she pulled the bundle free from the package, a length of black velvet spilled down toward the rug and she realized that it was a new cloak. The edges were trimmed with fur and she could feel warmth gathering in her hands just from holding it.

  “Nathan, this is gorgeous,” she said. She turned it and held it up to examine it. The hood was lined with silk and there was a heavy brass clasp at the throat.

  “Try it on,” he said. He reached out for it and held it for her as she turned and let him drape it over her shoulders. She fastened the clasp and gathered it close; she already knew that it would be perfect for even the coldest days. Cora turned for him to see.

  “How do I look?”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, before his eye had even flickered over the cloak.

  She looked down at the velvet hugging her body. Though she hadn’t asked for a thing from Nathan, she couldn’t have picked out a better gift herself. She reached for his hand and squeezed quickly. “Thank you,” she said. “And now let me get your present.”

  Nathan took her cloak and hung it while she went to her room and returned with a small box wrapped in brown paper. “It’s nothing like what you gave me, but I hope you like it.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything at all,” he said. “So I already appreciate it.” He peeled back the wrapping and opened the box inside. “This is perfect!” he said as he pulled out a shave kit.

  “I could see you needed it,” Cora said. “That brush you use is disgusting.”

  He laughed as he took out the new shaving brush and ran it across his cheek. “No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s an antique.”

  “They only call things antiques if somebody would pay for them,” Cora said. “You go sell that brush and I’ll change my mind. Until then, it’s disgusting.”

  Nathan lifted the bar of shave soap to his nose and inhaled. “Smells great,�
�� he said. “Thank you, Cora.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “And now that you have a proper shaving mug, you can put that teacup back, right?”

  “Sure thing.” He glanced toward the window. “So you want to go try out your cloak? We can go for some fresh air before it gets too late.”

  “That sounds good,” she said. “It would be nice to walk for a bit after dinner.” She waited as he went for his coat and then the two of them went down the stairs and around the building to the street.

  It had turned into an extremely crisp night—the kind that sent a shock through a person when taking too deep a breath—but she was warm, wonderfully warm, beneath the velvet. As they walked, she gathered the fabric in front with one hand, while she took Nathan’s arm with the other.

  “I don’t want to slip on the ice,” she said, and he nodded. It was somewhat true, but no more so than the fact that it just felt nice to walk there with him. It was the first time she had touched him since they had shared a bed. He was probably thinking the same, but at the moment she didn’t care. She hadn’t been out of the house in days and she could feel her spirits lifting even after only a few minutes. She tightened her grip on Nathan’s arm and they went ahead.

  Main Street was quiet now; all the shops were closed and nobody else was out walking. The slowly falling snow, so beautiful beneath the glow of the streetlights, had laid a fresh dusting over the road and was building up on the pine boughs that decorated the light poles.

  “It’s so peaceful,” she said. “I’ve never seen it like this.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty, isn’t it? I’m glad I finally got you to come out,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “Now that you got me this, you won’t be able to keep me in,” she said. “We should get out more often. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up like that all the time.”

  “I’d like that,” he said. He put his hand on hers and held it there for a long time before he suddenly stopped and turned to her. “I have another present for you when we get home.”

  “What? Why?” she asked. “I only got you the one; now you’re going to make me feel awful.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s nothing big, just something I saw that I thought you’d like.” Suddenly, he tilted his head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

  Cora reached up to move her hood back slightly. She could hear the wind, of course, and a dog barking far to the south. There was the squeak of a weathervane somewhere, and also…singing.

  “What is that?”

  “Must be carolers,” Nathan said. “Come on, let’s go see if we can find them.” He thrust out his arm for her and they hurried down a side street. They stopped to listen after a block and Nathan set off to the west, practically pulling her down the street until they rounded the corner and saw a group of seven or eight singers, bundled up against the cold and crowded onto the porch of a house across the street.

  As they stood there listening, he dropped his arm down around her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

  “Keeping you warm.”

  “That’s what the cloak is for,” she said. Then, just as she felt his arm move away, she spoke again. “But that’s okay for now.” She let herself lean against him and his arm returned around her as if to protect her.

  The carolers fell silent for a moment before one singer began again.

  “God rest ye merry, gentlemen,” he sang. “Let nothing you dismay.”

  “My favorite,” Cora murmured as the other singers joined in. She hadn’t expected to find herself out in the snow this evening, listening to Christmas carols with Nathan’s arm around her, but she had to admit, it felt pretty good.

  When they finished, the group moved on to the next house; Cora and Nathan turned back and headed for home.

  “I love that song,” she said. “That line, ‘let nothing you dismay’—it means don’t let anything bother you, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s a nice thought.” Tough to live up to, but a nice thought.

  They walked quietly until they reached the house; once inside, Nathan carefully hung her cloak and went to his room again, this time returning with a much smaller package.

  “Merry Christmas, Cora,” he said. “Again.”

  She looked down at the box in her hands. It weighed very little and the box was small. He didn’t, she thought. Surely he didn’t buy me jewelry. She tore off the wrapping and forced herself to open the lid, although she was now certain that she didn’t want to know what was inside.

  It was a bracelet. The bracelet. Delicate silver nestled in a bed of cotton batting. It would lay on her skin as if it were part of her, more elegant than any other piece she had, and it must have cost Nathan a pretty penny—a couple of weeks of wages, if not more. Cora had no idea how he had known that she would like this particular bracelet, but after seeing it up close, being able to run her fingers over the metal, she was entranced. It was stunning.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s gorgeous,” she murmured. “Absolutely beautiful. But I can’t take this.” She abruptly flipped the box lid closed and held it out toward him.

  He took it, though a cloud of confusion had formed in his eyes. “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “Because you shouldn’t be giving me things like that, that’s why not.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You and me are husband and wife in name only,” she said. “We’re not going to be sharing a bed every time you get the itch to do it. What happened before was a mistake.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she spoke, but there was no other way to get things out in the open. She had received enough of these small boxes over the years to know that when a man gave a girl jewelry, he expected to get something in return. And it wasn’t a thank-you note.

  “Cora, I think you might be misunderstanding me.”

  He was looking at her with such an odd expression—it was almost as if he felt hurt—that she doubted herself for a moment. “If I’m wrong, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to soften her voice while still sounding firm. “It’s a beautiful present, but I just can’t take it. Not from you.”

  He was staring at the floor, refusing to look at her.

  “Look, it’s getting to be pretty late,” she said. “I think I’ll turn in.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel, heading toward his room.

  “Goodnight,” she called.

  The only response was the click of his door as it softly closed.

  He’ll get over it, she thought. We had a deal, and if he wants what’s coming to him, he’ll get over it.

  Chapter 12

  “Cora, I’m so glad you joined us this evening,” Mr. Harper said as he stood up and began to clear the dishes. “It hasn’t been the same around here since you moved out.”

  “Really? It looks like some things haven’t changed at all,” she said, nodding in Mr. Beckett’s direction. His chin had reached his chest and Cora was sure that she could hear him snoring faintly.

  “Well, that’s true,” Harper said, smiling. “But in any case, it was a nice surprise.”

  “I wasn’t surprised at all,” Abby said. “I knew that a guest would be coming because I woke up with a crick neck yesterday.”

  Her sister snorted. “That’s not how you know a guest is coming,” Margaret said. “That’s how you know somebody is going to have a baby.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Cora, are you in a family way?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Cora said.

  Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “Must be somebody else, then,” she said, although she didn’t look convinced. “Anyway, I saw a crow before noon yesterday, and that’s how you know you’ll have guests. So I’m the one who knew you were coming.”

  “Well, I’m happy to be here regardless,” Cora said.

  “But where’s that husband of yours?” Abby asked. “I was hoping we could meet him.”
>
  “He had to work. The hotel always has a big party on New Year’s Eve, and they needed his help tonight.”

  “That’s a shame,” she said. “I wanted to see what your fella looked like. How are you liking married life?”

  “Not bad,” Cora said. “Not bad at all.” And not good at all either, she thought. The last week had been so unpleasant that she’d been thrilled to learn that Nathan had to work this evening, even though it meant that she’d be spending New Year’s Eve alone. Since Christmas they had barely said three words to each other anyway. Actually, that wasn’t true. He had barely said three words to her, and she’d begun to suspect that she had really hurt him by turning down his gift.

  “That’s lovely, dear,” Abby said. “Did you know I almost got married once?”

  “Not this again,” Margaret said, sighing.

  Her sister ignored her. “Back in thirty-two, I met a young man named Lawrence Wilson,” she said. “He had the most lovely hair, I remember. It was wavy and thick and the most beautiful color blonde you ever saw. His uncle was our neighbor at the time, and Lawrence asked me to marry him.”

  “And you said no?” Cora asked.

  “I couldn’t do it,” she said. “Our mother had just taken ill and needed my help.” Then she leaned closer and added in a loud whisper, “And it didn’t look like Margaret was ever going to get married either, so I decided to stay home with the family.”

  “I would have gotten married,” Margaret said. “If you had stayed out of the way when Bill was calling on me, he would have asked me.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot about Bill Paulson!” Abby said. She turned to Cora and held up two fingers. “Twice,” she said. “I almost got married twice. Bill wanted to marry me too.”

  “When are you going to stop saying that?” Margaret demanded.

  Cora pushed back her chair and stood up. “Well, I think I’ll be going,” she said. “I want to get home before it’s too late.”

  The sisters stopped bickering long enough to say goodbye, and after Mr. Harper showed her out, Cora headed for Main Street. She was still amazed at how warm her cloak was, and she thought that it might be nice to walk around for a bit, not only to help Mr. Harper’s meatloaf settle, but also to see the decorations again.