Marriage Inconvenient

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  This was his wedding night. His bride was in bed -- the guest room bed. Could he discover a way to change her mind about the relationship? She had so much to give, friendship, laughter, love. How could he ask for her love when his was buried beneath the rubble of guilt?

  He’d grit his teeth. He’d spend hours immersed in cold water. He’d spend extra hours at the clinic. Maybe he’d come to grips with the things he had and hadn’t done in the past.

  Then he’d kiss her.

  He lay on his king-sized bed and thought about the ceremony. She had looked beautiful, a man’s dream bride in a dress that had shimmered when she moved. . . a dress that had been angelic and seductive. He had to put the past to rest and make this marriage real. If not, he’d go slowly insane.

  Chapter Four

  Carrie popped the trunk and assessed the assortment of purchases she’d made at the local hardware store. She’d gone for paint and had discovered a treasure trove.

  “If you don’t see it, ask. It’s bound to be here somewhere.”

  The store’s motto had proven accurate. On the jumbled shelves and in the cluttered back room, she’d found antique doorknobs and etched glass shields for the hall fixtures, once gas lights, but now holding electric bulbs. She’d been so excited about her finds she’d nearly forgotten the paint she’d come to buy.

  Won’t Tony be surprised? Her heart thudded in her chest. What would he think about the bedroom she’d chosen? How long would he ignore her when they shared a bathroom? She grabbed the cans of paint. There was no sense speculating. Before too many days had passed, she’d know.

  An hour later, she finished taping the molding and the edges of the chestnut wainscoting in the front hall. She’d work in her bedroom tomorrow after Tony left for the clinic and on Thursday, too. That way, she’d escape detection until after her furniture arrived. By Friday night, her husband was in for a big surprise. She hugged herself and laughed.

  Maybe he’d discover her while she took a bath. She’d be Venus rising from the foam. He might see her in the wisps of silk she wore under her clothes.

  Hazel stepped into the hall. “I’m going home now. Sure you’re not chewing off too big a wad? All this painting and decorating when you should be thinking on your marriage.”

  “Who says I’m not? They’re not easy.”

  Hazel laughed. “You’ve got that. Gonna be ready when your furniture comes?”

  “Sure will. On Wednesday, Tony can help me in the room I won’t be using and in the library.”

  Hazel shook her head. “Two of you got to stop and figure what you want.”

  “I know what I want. He’s the one with the problem.”

  Hazel tsked. “Anything I can do before I leave for home?”

  The aroma of pot roast filtered from the kitchen. “Not today, but when I finish decorating, you can teach me how to cook.”

  “Depends on how long you plan on staying. Cooking

  takes a bit of learning.” The older woman frowned. “Don’t take a genius to figure whatever kind of arrangement you and Dr. Flynn have, it ain’t no kind of marriage.”

  Carrie stared at the wall. “Don’t spread that around. It’s just...just...”

  “The doctor’s hard-headed and you’re thick-skulled.”

  “We always have been.” Carrie thought of the many times she’d tried to show Tony she was the woman of his dreams. He’d laughed and told her to practice on guys her own age. What made her think she’d succeed now?

  Hazel untied her apron. “Have a feeling I’m gonna be entertained. Pair of you’ll be fun to watch...Oh, cookies for Chad’s snack are in the jar. Cherry cobbler for dessert. Don’t let the doctor have but one piece.”

  “Will do. See you tomorrow.”

  After Hazel left, Carrie dragged the ladder from the pantry--- Today the foyer--- Tomorrow the bedroom of her choice plus a bit of painting in the room Tony had chosen for her.

  She peered into the unfurnished library. Dark wood shelves lined the end walls. Drab drapes at the windows failed to allow light into the room. She revised her plans. The living room furniture from her apartment would fit. Then if she added the library table that had been her grandfather’s and her TV, they’d have a great family room.

  She sighed. Her plan for Tony’s house would come to nothing unless the marriage became more than one of convenience.

  With the ladder in place, she opened the first can of paint, a warm cream color that would enhance the golden tones of the wainscoting and the marble floor.

  When the wall around the front entrance was finished, she stopped for a break. Peanut butter cookies studded with milk chocolate bits and the last cup of the coffee she’d brewed that morning made a delicious lunch.

  A smile flitted across her lips. This morning, Tony had tasted the coffee and growled with pleasure. The sound had sent heat spiraling through her. She dreamed of hearing him groan in another place and for a different reason.

  Back to work, she told herself. She had no time for dreams.

  One wall later, she refilled the roller pan and climbed the ladder. The front door opened. Chad dropped his book-bag on the floor.

  Carrie turned so her back rested against the ladder steps. “Hi. How was school?”

  “Okay.”

  “Hazel left some great cookies for your snack. Then you’re supposed to do your homework.”

  “Don’t want to. Going out to play.” His body vibrated

  with defiance. His blue eyes issued a challenge.

  She shrugged.

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You know the routine. Make your choice and live with what happens. What do you think your dad will say?”

  “Don’t like homework.”

  “Who does? Your uncle and I used to argue with your dad all the time about doing ours. We never won.”

  “How come Dad got to boss you around?”

  “My mom worked so your grandmother watched me after school. She put your dad in charge of homework. He wouldn’t let us play until we finished.” She didn’t tell him that before long she’d done hers without a fuss to impress Tony.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Painting. Doesn’t it look nice?”

  “Dad know you’re doing this?”

  She turned and reached for the roller. “He said it was my house.”

  “Not.” His voice rose to a shrill pitch. “My mom says Dad bought this dump for her. Even if she doesn’t live here, it’s hers.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes and she’ll hate what you’re doing. She’ll hate you and she’ll hate Dad for marrying you.”

  Carrie stretched to reach the top of the wall. “There’s no reason for her to even think about me or be upset with your dad. Isn’t she married to someone else?”

  “You and Dad aren’t really married. You don’t even kiss. That’s what married people do. ‘Sides, he’s only helping you ‘cause you’re his friend.” He grabbed the ladder.

  “Chad.” When the ladder rocked, she lost her balance. The roller flew from her hand. The paint pan tilted and paint splattered on the wall and pooled on the floor. Her foot slipped from the rung. She landed in a heap on the floor.

  Chad stared. “I didn’t mean...I only...Dad’s going to be mad...Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. Hey, accidents happen.” She got to her feet and rubbed where her elbow had struck the marble floor.

  “Wasn’t an accident.” His lower lip quivered. “I was mad.”

  “And you acted before you thought.”

  “The wall’s a mess and the floor. I ruined them.”

  “Not if we clean the spill before it dries.”

  “But you gotta use that smelly stuff. Dad will know.”

  “Just soap and water will clean this paint.”

  “You gonna tell Dad?”

  “I think you should.”

  He looked at her. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

&
nbsp; She grasped his shoulder. “I used to do dumb things when I was a kid. Still do sometimes. Help me find a bucket and some rags. I’ll clean while you do your homework.”

  “I should help.”

  She looked at the puddle on the floor and the splashes on the wainscoting. “Unless you have pages and pages, there’ll be work left when you’re done.”

  “Just two. Spelling and math that’s ‘most done.”

  “Then let’s get moving.” Carrie followed him to the kitchen. In the pantry, she found some rags. Chad pulled a bucket from beneath the sink.

  After filling the pail, Carrie headed to the door. “See you in a few.”

  “Okay.” Chad opened his book-bag and began to work.

  She had cleaned the worst of the spill from the floor before Chad came to help. As they washed paint from the paneling, Tony strode into the house.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “An accident,” Carrie said.

  Chad bolted for the stairs.

  Tony’s mouth tightened. “Chad.”

  The boy faced his father. Hunched shoulders proclaimed his guilt. “Was my fault. I got mad and shook the ladder.”

  “Homework done?”

  Chad nodded.

  Tony turned to Carrie. “Thought you planned to paint your bedroom.”

  “I did, and I will, but you know me. The foyer was so gloomy and you said --” She cut off the remainder of her sentence. Those words had upset Chad and made him react. “I decided to start here. On Wednesday, we can do the bedroom. What do you think about turning the library into a family room? My living room furniture would be perfect in here.”

  “Sounds good.” His smile faded. “Want to tell me about this accident?”

  She pursed her lips. “It’s not for me to tell.”

  Chad slumped on the stairs. “Don’t be mad at her. I shook the ladder ‘cause I didn’t think, just acted. Are you going to send me away?”

  Tony’s stomach roiled. Why would Chad think he would do a thing like that? “What are you talking about? Why would I send you away?”

  “Mom did. She has Mr. Brinker now and you have her. You don’t need me.”

  Tony felt like a boulder had slammed into his chest. “I won’t send you away, ever.”

  Carrie leaned against the newel post. “And I wouldn’t

  let him. You belong here. Maybe tomorrow after school, you can help me wash windows and dust shelves in the library.”

  Chad looked up. “I’ll do a good job.”

  She sat beside him. “I know you will.”

  Tony studied the pair. Carrie was a wonder. Somehow she’d managed to defuse Chad’s tantrum. She’d also subtly promised something that had been missing since Chad had arrived, a sense of family.

  “Could you take me to buy a costume for the Halloween party at school on Saturday? That’s instead of Trick or Treat. Dad works late most Tuesdays and I’m afraid the good ones will be gone.”

  “We could do that. Maybe even eat out.” Carrie laughed.

  Tony wondered what had amused her. “Care to share the joke.”

  “Just remembering the time we made suits of armor.”

  Tony chuckled. “I’d forgotten. They were a success and a failure.” He looked at Chad. “We won first prize at the parade. Then it rained and the cardboard got wet and fell apart.”

  “The poster paint ran and got all over our clothes,” Carrie said. “We even had gray hands and faces.”

  “Wow,” Chad said. “Could we make one for me? No one else would have a knight suit.”

  “We’ll do it then.” She pushed away from the stairs. “I have some ideas for improvements...Now, it’s back to work. We need fresh water.”

  Tony lugged the bucket to the kitchen. He should punish Chad for his behavior, but the truce between his son and his wife was important and fragile.

  ***********************************************

  “What about this?”

  Carrie headed toward the sound of Chad’s voice. He held a piece of silver cloth. “Perfect.”

  “My costume’s going to be way cool.”

  “You bet it will.”

  “Can we make it when we get home?”

  “Not tonight. We have to be fresh and I have to make a pattern. I’ll measure you tonight. We want perfection not a mess.” She paid for the cloth and a roll of fastening with her credit card. “Besides, there are some things I have to pick up when I go to my apartment.”

  “You gonna live there?”

  She heard a note of anxiety in his voice. “I need to let the movers in and then get back here before they do. If my friend -- Grace -- remember her from the wedding? If she hadn’t volunteered to be there Thursday while they pack, I

  would have had to stay overnight.”

  “I’m glad you don’t.”

  They added the package from the fabric store to the one holding heavy, yet flexible, posterboard, a step up from the cardboard boxes she and Tony had used.

  “One more stop,” she said.

  “The grocery store for foil.” He got in the back and fastened his seatbelt. “Did you know there’s a haunted house in the woods?”

  “Sure didn’t.”

  “It’s real cool. There was a murder there a long time ago and the woman still haunts the place. Sure wish I’d see her sometime.”

  “Does your dad let you go there?”

  “Sort of...no...not alone. Would you like to go with me?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure a haunted house is very appealing.”

  “They’re going to have one at the party. ‘Cept it’s not for real.”

  By the time they reached the house, Tony was home. He met them at the door. She studied the way his tee shirt and jeans covered his muscular body. This man made her feel weak and energized at the same time.

  “Hi, buddy...Carrie. Buy out the store?”

  His voice made her feel shivery, but at the moment, there was no way to let him know. Chad was the perfect barrier between desire and the impossible.

  “Just the essentials,” she said.

  “Anything else to bring in?”

  “Chad and I managed.”

  “Yeah, Dad, we managed.”

  Tony grinned. This was the kind of rapport he’d hoped to see. If Carrie and Chad became pals, what he had to tell his son would be easier, unless he couldn’t convince Carrie to stay. “Time to hit the bed.”

  “Okay.” Chad charged upstairs.

  Tony reached for Carrie and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks.”

  She stiffened and he released her. That wasn’t the message she’d meant to convey, but the embrace had startled her.

  “We had a good time for tonight, but I’m exhausted,” she said.

  “No painting, right?”

  “You’ve got that straight. I’d forgotten how much energy kids have and how fast they move. Not to mention, I finished the foyer, taped in the...library and did the windows.” She failed to mention the wall she’d painted in the room she’d chosen.

  “Chad’s more energetic than most kids. I’m free for whatever you want to do tomorrow.”

  She wished that was the truth. “Guess we’ll do my room.”

  “Haven’t you started there yet?”

  “Hey, I’m not superwoman. If it’s not finished, I’ll stay in the guest room. On Thursday, I’ll finish in the library. Chad helped with the windows.”

  “Without making a mess?”

  “Oh ye of little faith.” She laughed. “Actually, the floor needed to be mopped. It’s ready to wax.”

  “When?”

  “Thursday.”

  “By the end of the week, you won’t be able to move.”

  “You’re right, but think of how great the house is beginning to look.”

  He nodded in agreement. Since buying the house, the only room to see changes had been the kitchen. Hazel had insisted on new cabinets, appliances, floor and wall coverings.

  “You’re right, bu
t this is a big house. You can’t do everything in a month.”

  “I’m going to try...Oh, before Chad gets in bed, I have to measure him.”

  Tony frowned. Somewhere during the conversation, he’d

  missed something subtle and important. He couldn’t ask. She’d always been like a bulldog guarding a bone when it came to keeping a secret. He followed her upstairs. Was that paint he smelled? He shrugged and decided it was from the foyer.

  ******************************************************

  On Wednesday, she and Tony painted the room she wouldn’t be using and finished painting in the library. By Thursday afternoon and her stint in the room she planned to use, she thought her shoulder muscles had been permanently damaged, but all was in order.

  Friday morning, she left the house at sunrise, drove to the apartment to let the movers in. Then she ran down the street to the surgical supply house. There, she bought stockinet to use at the elbows and knees of Chad’s costume. Once the furniture and boxes had been loaded, she grabbed the stack of accumulated mail and headed for West Virginia.

  By two thirty, the last of her possessions had been placed in the rooms she’d chosen. She stood in her bedroom and hoped her choice would tell Tony of her intentions without the need for words that would sound too much like a plea. What had gone wrong between them? Their ease of

  conversation had vanished at the altar.

  She walked downstairs and entered the library. The sheer curtains from the apartment’s living room allowed the afternoon sunlight to brighten the space. Boxes littered the gleaming oak floor. She opened one of the boxes.

  “Carrie,” Chad called.

  “In here.” She rose. “Your snack’s on the table. Do your homework and then we’ll make your costume.”

  “Don’t have homework. Never on the weekend.”

  He waited at the door for her. “This looks nice with your furniture. What a big television...You need a costume, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Even big people have to wear them, but they can’t win a prize. I want you to come.”