An Inconvenient Marriage

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  The door opened and a couple in their late twenties smiled at her.

  “We’re so happy to meet you!” Lydia declared. She hugged her as much as she could with her expanding belly.

  “You’re ready to deliver at any moment, aren’t you?” Sue laughed.

  “The baby is a week late,” Ralph confided. “We’re anxious to see the little one.”

  “How exciting! I can’t wait to see him or her either. I love babies. I got a lot of practice helping out with my younger siblings.”

  Ralph brought in her bags.

  “Maybe you can help a nervous mother then?” Lydia asked.

  “I would be honored to do what I can to help.”

  “I knew I was going to love you as soon as Mr. Mitchell told me he was marrying you. I go to the library on occasion and hear about how nice you are. Now I know those aren’t just rumors.”

  “I don’t think everyone would agree with you. There are some people who run when they see me coming.” She thought of Mr. Wilkins who had turned the other way when he saw her walking in his direction at the wedding.

  Lydia changed topics. “Mr. Mitchell has prepared your bedroom for you. Will you follow us?”

  Sue sighed as she recalled her irritation over the lace in her dress. It didn’t take long for him to start dictating her life for her, did it? They led her up the oak staircase and into a room with peach walls, lacy curtains and a flowery bedspread. The plush white carpet was the only bearable thing about the room. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the many frilly dresses decorated in sequins, bows, and flowers.

  “He makes me so mad!” she hissed. “I don’t hold any of this against you since you were following instructions, but all of this makes me want to throw up. I want another room. This time, I’ll select it.”

  They looked bewildered as she stomped to the next bedroom and opened the door.

  “Ma’am, we’re sorry. The room was originally yellow and white with a plain yellow bedspread. As for the clothes, I gave him advice on what to make,” Lydia said.

  “He didn’t bother to ask me what I wanted. That’s my problem,” Sue assured her. “I hold none of this against you. You are wonderful people.”

  She looked around the light blue walls and beige carpet. The bedspread was a medium blue with a matching pillow. She went down the hall to another bedroom and saw that its colors were green and white. The last room was his bedroom. It was the best one, in her opinion. In strong contrast to the other rooms, this room was striking in its dark colors. The walls appeared to be made of wood. The dark blue curtains were drawn, but on the oak desk in the corner was a golden lamp on it with a beige shade which created a warm ambience to the room. The large bed had an oak headboard and footboard. The dark green, navy, and white pattern of the bedspread matched the pillow cases. On his oak night stand was a copy of The Iliad by Homer. On his oak dresser, he had a small golden globe, a golden clock and a picture of his mother in a gold frame. She walked across the soft dark green carpet and opened the oak closet door, marveling at the large walk in closet filled with countless suits and shoes.

  “I want this room. Throw his things out,” she said.

  Lydia looked flustered and Ralph was ready to panic.

  “Oh, I don’t actually expect you to do that. I suppose it’s only right he gets the best bedroom in the house.” She went back to the blue bedroom. “I’ll take this one. And can I have a bookcase? I want to start a book collection.” It was comfortable enough. She would have preferred his setup but realized six months was hardly worth the money or effort to fancy her room up the same way. Compared to his room, hers was cold and barren.

  “But I refuse to wear these clothes,” she said. She dragged out the hideous clothes he selected for her and threw them down the stairs. “I will wear my peasant clothes until I get a seamstress to make clothes I prefer.”

  Before she could give further instructions to the overwhelmed couple, Jake walked into the house. “What are you doing? Those are perfectly good clothes,” he yelled at her.

  “They are not the kind of clothes I want,” she snapped.

  Ralph and Lydia ran down the steps so they could quickly collect the clothes.

  “And I hate the bedroom you picked out for me,” she added as she finished throwing the last two dresses over the rail. “I don’t like peach or pink or flowery stuff. I prefer solid colors like green and blue. But what would you know about any of that? You never bothered to ask what I wanted. You compared me to a bunch of women and decided I would like the same things they do. And while you’re at it, return this awful ring!” She took the wedding ring off of her finger and threw it at him. “I can hardly lift my finger with a rock that big. I am not someone you can put into a box, Mr. Mitchell.”

  “You’re amazing, you know that!” he screamed back. “You show absolutely no gratitude. I just handed you a lot of money today and you complain about colors, clothes and diamonds that are too big. Don’t you realize what you can buy with the amount of money you hold in your purse?”

  “Great. So get me a seamstress and I’ll pay her the appropriate fees.”

  “We’ll get right on it, sir,” Lydia told him as she and Ralph left with the bundle of clothes in their arms.

  “I want your room,” she decided.

  “What?”

  “You got it. I like your room. Make the blue one like your room, except you can leave the blue walls because blue is my favorite color.”

  “What a relief I picked that for the wedding then!”

  She stomped down the steps.

  He shuddered.

  “What is your problem?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

  “I can’t believe you’re soiling my nice home in that horribly worn out dress.”

  “Well, until I get a seamstress, I’m wearing my peasant clothes. And I’ll even leave the house in broad daylight and wave to everyone I see.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Try me,” she snapped. “You will not control me. I have as much right to my likes as you do.” She walked down the rest of the steps. “Now what else is in this house?” She saw a door to her left and went to it.

  “That’s my sanctuary. You can’t go in there,” he argued as she opened the door.

  “Why do you have all the good rooms?”

  He followed her in, his face red with anger. “You’re out of your mind.”

  She inspected the fireplace, the chairs, the artifacts he had in careful display on the walls and on shelves, the bookcase filled with volumes of books, his desk, and the animals on the walls. “You really amaze me, you know that. You obviously have impressive taste yet you don’t display it in anything that is not uniquely yours.”

  “You’re not coming into my home to change anything. This is my house. The only room you’re allowed to change is your bedroom and that’s it. You’re so afraid I’m going to control you because I was trying to be nice and fix things up the way a typical woman likes it.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a typical woman.” She faced him and crossed her arms, knowing her high neckline made it perfectly acceptable to do so. “I am a spinster. I grew up doing boy chores on a farm. I know more about books and horses than I do about flowers and other dainty things. And just so you know, I will not go to a single luncheon or dinner party, and I refuse to do any entertaining at this house. So don’t expect me to follow in suit with what other wives are happy to do. I like my privacy and won’t compromise it for anyone or any amount of money. And you can tell your Mr. Barnett that I didn’t sign up for those things so I am well within my legal rights.”

  “Well, that’s great news because I hate those things too! I don’t want you bringing people over here or dragging me off to boring social events. The dance is all I can stomach.”

  “So it seems we are in agreement.”

  “I guess we are!”

  “There is one thing I would change about this room.”

  “Here it comes
. I won’t get it.”

  She ignored him. “You need a black bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Then this room will be complete!”

  “That’s actually a good idea!”

  “I am full of good ideas.”

  “So you mean it. No dragging me to social functions or bringing people here?”

  “When I get home from work, I like to read a book. I get enough of people all day and I need time to myself.”

  “And you won’t feminize my house?”

  “That’s not even a word.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I’m not going to decorate your precious house with feminine objects. Weren’t you listening when I told you I don’t like all that stuff?”

  “So why are we fighting?” he yelled.

  She paused as she processed everything they just agreed on. What were they arguing about? “I don’t know, but I’m sure there was a good reason,” she said in a calmer voice.

  He laughed. “And to think I was so scared of marriage. You’re actually going to be easy to live with.”

  She relaxed and chuckled. “My friend Belinda lets her husband control everything she does and says. I was afraid you’d try that with me.”

  He walked over to his desk and sat in the chair behind it. “I know husbands who are controlled by their wives. It’s not pretty.” He took out some paper he had neatly folded into his breast pocket and set them on the desk. “It’s official. I own a building which will become Mitchell Bank in a matter of weeks.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  He smiled. “I already asked Justin Monroe to be the vice president. He and I will turn in our resignation letters to Conrad Leroy right after New Year’s Day.”

  “You would be surprised how many people in this town are afraid of what will happen when Conrad retires. George doesn’t have a very good reputation with the women I’ve talked to. He keeps a mistress in another town, and women don’t like the thought of their own husbands being unfaithful.”

  “Is that why you said you could hurt his reputation in this town?”

  “Women are as upset about infidelity as they are about children being forced out of their homes because of foreclosure.”

  “You should be a businesswoman. You understand your clients very well.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone. I just knew that many of the wives would want their husbands to pull out of the bank if they were aware of what was going on. Hmm...I can see your point. I suppose a lot of women do have control over their husbands.”

  “I would call it influence instead of control in this situation. The women aren’t allowed to close out their husbands’ accounts. There is a great deal of apprehension from the male side about what type of leader George will make. What happened with you only confirmed those fears. The wives voicing that same fear is the support those men needed to approach me about opening my own bank.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it from that angle.”

  As he turned his attention to filling out the paperwork, she walked over to the bookcase and examined the books. She was impressed with the excellent condition the books were in. The library received books in such good shape but after people read them, they lost their integrity. She longed to take a book out but wondered if he would allow it.

  “Go ahead,” he softly said.

  Startled, she looked at him. She hadn’t meant to be so obvious. “I don’t know. You keep everything in such good condition. I’m almost afraid to touch anything in this room.”

  “I know you’ll be careful with my things.”

  She nodded and pulled the book off the shelf. “I didn’t know you liked Jane Austen.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “She’s a woman author.”

  “I’m broad minded enough to think women have a lot to offer society. I enjoy her work.”

  “This is one of my favorite books. Sense and Sensibility. The story of two sisters who represent two opposing forces: logic and emotion.”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He seemed to be considering her analysis of the book. “I didn’t think anyone else in Virginia understood that.”

  “Sometimes I like to seek out a deeper meaning to a story. But at other times, a story is just a story.” She picked out Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain.

  “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer has its elements in it but I prefer Jane Austen’s work to Mark Twain’s.”

  “Don’t let my brother Luke hear you say that.”

  “Which one is he?”

  “The one with the mouse that escaped at the reception.”

  He cringed. “I don’t know how your family managed to pull that escapade off but you did an excellent job. People kept coming up to me and told me how impressed they were with my originality. I told them I had nothing to do with it. I do give credit where credit is due.”

  “Trevor’s head is always in a book, so he was able to save the day. That was definitely not planned.”

  “For what it’s worth, you made a most beautiful bride. I don’t know why you insist on wearing those buns. You turn many heads when you wear your hair down.”

  “Oh.” She blushed at his compliment. “I figured I had no one to impress so I started pulling my hair up and then it became a habit. You really like the way I look when it’s down?”

  “I do,” he softly admitted. “But don’t wear it down because I said that. I don’t want to be accused of controlling you.”

  She chuckled. “Now that I know you aren’t trying to run my life, I can actually enjoy your company.” She put The Adventures of Tom Sawyer back on the shelf. “Can I read this?” She showed him Sense and Sensibility.

  “You have an open invitation to any book in this room.”

  “I’ll probably read all of them.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No. I suppose not.” She studied the book for a moment. “The irony with me is that I actually like logical Elinor more than emotional Marianne. Isn’t that odd? I know I’m nothing like Elinor.”

  “Sometimes we like that which we lack. I always preferred Marianne myself. She had a lot of passion. She never did things just because society dictated something to be done a certain way.”

  “That surprises me because you are ruled by logic. Your world is very orderly.”

  “Opposites attract.”

  “Then I guess we better watch out. We just might become good friends in the next six months.” She took the book to the chair by the fireplace. “Do you mind if I read here? It’s more comfortable than my bedroom.”

  He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do about getting someone to decorate your room the way you want it. We’ll also get you clothes and a ring that you like. As for this room, since you appreciate it as much as I do, you may come in here anytime you wish.”

  “Thank you, Jake. That’s very kind of you.”

  He grinned before turning back to his paperwork.

  She sat down and opened the book. Apparently, Jake wasn’t so intimidating after all.

  ***

  To Sue’s surprise, Mrs. Parker and her team of seamstresses had a hunter green skirt, a plain white long sleeved shirt, and a hunter green hat ready for her that evening so she could wear that outfit the next day. “I’ll have two more outfits ready tomorrow, and the rest of your wardrobe will be ready on Tuesday,” she told Sue when she dropped the clothes off.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker,” Sue replied. “I am sorry for the way I talked to you at the wedding this morning. I was upset because I assumed Jake was trying to mandate what type of clothing I wear. I have been a spinster for so long that I have become set in my ways.”

  Mrs. Parker’s face relaxed and she smiled. “I appreciate the apology. Now that I know what you like, it will be easier to design your clothes. Are you sure you want three pairs of slacks, three plaid shirts and two working boots?”

  “Sometimes I help my family at their farm. It’s not easy to do those
chores in a skirt or a dress.”

  She nodded. “I see your point. Very well.”

  “Do I need to pay you?”

  “No. Mr. Mitchell already took care of that.”

  Apparently, Jake moved fast, Sue noted. She was happy with her new clothes. They would be perfect for the play at the library the next evening. In fact, she was so excited about the skirt and shirt, she had trouble sleeping in the large comfortable bed. She was used to sleeping on a thin, small mattress, so she felt like she was floating on a cloud on her new bed. She finally fell asleep in the early morning hours and woke up in time for church. After she got dressed, she was ready to pull her hair back into a bun when she caught sight of her reflection with her hair down. She decided to keep it down that day. Her soft golden curls framed her face, making her appear softer and younger. She had forgotten what if felt like to actually appear feminine.

  Turning from the mirror over the dresser, she slipped on her black shoes and went to the kitchen where Lydia was cooking breakfast.

  “Do you need any help?” Sue asked.

  “No. I manage fine in the kitchen by myself. Ralph and Mr. Mitchell are easy to please.”

  “I promise I will be too. I hope I didn’t scare you yesterday.”

  She grinned. “Ralph and I thought it was funny once our shock wore off. We never saw Mr. Mitchell look like he didn’t have control over a situation before. You’ll probably be good for him. He needs to enjoy life more. He’s so serious all the time.”

  “A couple of days around my family will most likely change all that. They live their lives based on how much fun they can have, though they have their serious moments.”

  “We heard about the fiasco at the wedding. Did your family plan that?”

  “No. It just happened. I’m relieved Trevor said it was an act. I think it would have been a disaster if he hadn’t.”

  “Yes, you and your family will be good for Mr. Mitchell.”