Matched in Minnesota (At the Altar Book 22)
Page 3
“I could bring you lunch anytime,” she said softly. She genuinely enjoyed cooking, but cooking for one was never fun. Her favorite thing about her engagement to John was being able to cook for two instead of just one. She hoped that he would take her up on it, but it would mean her going into his workspace, and she wasn’t sure he’d let her.
“You cook?” he asked. He usually just got food delivered. Pizza, Chinese, or Grubhub. It would be nice not to have to think about ordering and just eating when food magically appeared in front of him. It was going to be good to have a wife in more ways than he’d realized.
“I do,” she said. “I enjoy whipping up meals when I get a chance. I hated cooking for just one, though.” She almost added that was the worst thing about her engagement being over, but she wasn’t ready to get into that with the absent-minded professor. Someday she’d share her story with him, but she was sure he didn’t care at the moment.
When she reached the edge of the water, she noticed a rope hanging from one of the trees. She was sure many kids had swung on that rope over the years, and she wished she’d taken the time to change so she could swing on it now. But even she wouldn’t do something so silly in her wedding dress.
“Hold still, and I’ll get your picture there,” Aaron said, finding that he wanted to remember her just as she was at that very moment. In a few weeks, she’d be sick of him and the way he ignored her, but just then? She had a slight smile on her face as she discovered the wonders of Minnesota.
Marissa smiled at him over her shoulder and moved along the shoreline for a moment, knowing he was taking pictures of her. She didn’t mind. They would be special, something they could show their grandkids someday. Well, if they were going to be married for longer than a year, they could.
“Now you. I want pictures of you from today.” And she found she did. The man was handsome. He was the kind of man you looked at once, and you felt like you’d been punched in the gut, and you had a hard time making coherent conversation. She was sure all the girls did just as he said and followed him around.
As she snapped some pictures of him, someone came up behind her. “Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you together?” a young woman’s voice asked.
“That would be great!” Marissa handed the girl her phone and went over to stand with Aaron. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She was certain they looked like a recently married couple who were very much in love. Good. She wanted something good from the day.
“Thank you,” Marissa called as she walked to get her phone back.
“Dr. Christiansen?” the girl asked, looking a little stunned.
“Yes. Were you in one of my classes?”
The girl sighed. “I’m in two of your classes this summer. I was in two of your classes during the spring semester as well. How’s your research coming?”
Aaron’s face lit up at the question. “I found a journal of a young woman named Mary. She went west with her family and…”
Marissa tuned him out as he talked to his student. His face was so animated as he talked about history, and so…well, almost bored looking when he talked about marriage. What was wrong with the man? He had no interest in his own life, but he was fascinated with people who had lived a hundred and fifty years before. It was downright strange in her opinion.
She kept exploring, leaving Aaron still talking about Mary. He really seemed to feel like the girl was alive as he talked about her. How strange. Perhaps the key to having a happy marriage with the absent-minded professor was to learn to be interested in the Oregon Trail. Was it even possible? Perhaps she could read a book or two from his library—she hadn’t seen it yet, but she was sure it existed—and force herself to be interested. She’d never been a huge history buff, but she did have a life-long love of learning.
She’d liked Little House on the Prairie reruns. It couldn’t be too far off from that, could it? She’d try. She’d read through some of his research material while he was at work and jot down questions to ask. It was pretty obvious he’d never be interested in Disney World and all the intricacies that were involved in planning the perfect vacation.
Finally, she heard footsteps behind her, and Aaron caught her arm, spinning her around. “Please don’t ever leave me alone with a student again. That’s the reason I married—to avoid any appearance of impropriety.”
“So, you married me to protect you from your students.”
“And to get tenure,” he said.
Marissa nodded. “How could I forget your need for tenure?” She found the man utterly infuriating. Even a walk along the shore of the Mississippi River was ridiculous with him. “I think I’ll go and unpack my things.” Oh, she wanted to tell him to stuff their marriage certificate where the sun didn’t shine, but she didn’t dare. She had to stay with him for an entire year. It would be the longest year of her life.
When they got back to the apartment, Aaron carried Marissa’s things inside and showed her the bedroom that would be hers as long as she was there, and then he wandered off to do some more research.
Marissa knew she should be fuming that he was putting her in a bedroom other than his own, but she couldn’t force herself to care. She didn’t want him touching her anyway. The man was ridiculous, and she had no desire to spend time with him.
Instead of immediately unpacking, Marissa changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and wandered around, familiarizing herself with the place. It was three bedrooms, and there were thankfully two full baths. The kitchen was small, but still bigger than the one she’d had back in Arkansas. She was going to enjoy cooking in it.
One bedroom was an office, and he was sitting there with a journal open, taking rapid notes onto a tablet. There was a computer, and the walls were lined with books.
One was obviously a master bedroom, but it looked as if it was slept in and nothing more. The man obviously lived for his work and nothing else. She felt bad for him that he cared about nothing in the current century.
The third bedroom was hers. There was a full-sized bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and there was a bathroom that connected to the bedroom and the office. Lovely. She didn’t even want to share a bathroom with him while he worked. The man was way too into his research. It had only taken her a few minutes to figure that out.
She quickly unpacked her clothes and personal items, and then she went down to the car and carried a couple of more boxes into the building and up the flight of stairs. She had no desire to live on the second floor, having always preferred a first-floor apartment, but she was relatively sure the man cared nothing about her preferences.
She unpacked the boxes with her crock pot and instant pot, looking into the refrigerator. There was no food. A few bottles of water was all he had on hand.
Instead of asking him, she pulled out her phone and found a grocery store nearby, glad she’d decided to make the drive from Arkansas. She had her own set of wheels, and she could be self-sufficient while he ignored everything she did. She wanted to kick him, but realized it was childish…more childish than him ignoring her on their wedding day.
The grocery trip took a little over an hour, because she was starting from scratch. The man didn’t even own a bottle of ketchup! Once she was back at the apartment, she threw together a quick casserole for supper. She wanted to be petty and just cook for one, but instead she cooked a meal for both of them, going to the door of his office. “Aaron, supper’s ready.” She forced a smile to her face, trying to be a good wife, even though he obviously didn’t even know what a good husband was.
He looked up, seeming confused. “Supper? I don’t have any food in the apartment.”
Marissa shook her head. The man was unbelievable. “I left and picked up some groceries.”
“You left?” Aaron was confused for a moment. Hadn’t it just been fifteen minutes since he carried her suitcases up? He glanced at his watched and realized it had been four hours. “I’m sorry I abandoned you to unpa
ck. I didn’t realize how much time had passed!” He’d intended to just read and make notes on a few more pages then help her with what she was doing.
Marissa felt slightly appeased by his apology. “I got what I needed to do done. Come eat. It’s just a simple casserole, but I think you’ll like it.”
“It’s food. I’m not picky. I’m sure I’ll prefer it to take out.” He was glad he’d had his housekeeper come in and clean that morning. She was someone he’d found through a friend at work, and she did a great job keeping things clean, and better yet, she was old enough to be his mother and very happily married.
He stood up, stretching as he realized how stiff he was. “I really didn’t mean to spend so much time on research today.” He’d had good intentions, but he always did. He just wasn’t good on following through on anything but his research.
“I had a lot to do, and I kept myself occupied.” Marissa led him into the small dining area, where she’d set the table.
“Where did those dishes come from?” He had been eating off only paper plates since he’d moved out of his parents’ house.
“I brought them. How can a grown man not have a single dish in his apartment?” She had been shocked when she’d realized. He was living like he was in a dorm room, not like he was a grown, functioning adult.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t remember to wash them, and it’s easier for my housekeeper to just throw them all away.”
“Housekeeper?” she asked. Marissa loved the idea of a housekeeper. She definitely didn’t want to have to clean up after a man who would forget to do the dishes.
“She comes every Saturday morning. If you don’t want to keep using her, feel free to let her go. I’ve been using her since about a month after I started teaching here.”
“No, I’m thrilled to have a housekeeper. I work long weeks and cleaning up on the weekend is not something I like the idea of. What all does she do?”
He looked confused for a moment. “Everything. I order take out for every meal, and she makes sure the containers are gone. My clothes get magically washed. I tend to go to the office and just let her do her thing, and it’s clean when I get back.”
Marissa blinked for a moment. He was worse than she’d imagined. The man was an utter train wreck. Why had she married him again? She couldn’t wait to be alone so she could call Dr. Lachele to find out what the crazy woman was thinking!
As they ate, she managed to engage Aaron in conversation. “When are you planning to tell your parents you married?” she asked. She didn’t mention that she hadn’t told her own parents yet.
He shrugged. “I guess I can call them after supper. I’m an adult, though. They’re not going to worry about it.”
“I don’t think they’ll worry, but it would be nice if they at least knew. Parents like to be included in their children’s lives.”
“Were your parents at the wedding?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. He hadn’t been introduced to them if they had been there.
“No, they would have stopped me. They wanted me to stay in the same little town in Arkansas for the rest of my life. I did introduce you to my best friend, though.”
“I think I remember her,” he lied. He didn’t. He didn’t remember much about the reception, because his mind had been on Mary and her journey across the country by foot.
“No, you don’t. Your mind was on something far away when I introduced you. What was her name?” Marissa asked, shaking her head at him.
“Mary?”
“No, her name was Janelle. Who’s Mary?”
He sighed. “You caught me. Mary is the young woman whose journal I’m reading. She kept a careful journal of the Oregon Trail, and I’m reading all about it. It’s fascinating.”
“What is so fascinating about it?”
“Well, she’s the oldest child of eight, and she traveled with her entire family. It was her job to keep her six younger siblings in line, and to teach them as they walked across the plains. She was twenty at the beginning of the journey, which was old enough to be considered a spinster. More than anything, she was an indentured servant to her parents on the journey. What’s really interesting to me is that she realized she could get her own homestead once they reached Oregon, and she planned to file for her own plot of land. It’s right there in the journal. Most women never would have dreamed of such a thing, but Mary did.”
“So even at twenty, she wasn’t old enough to be on her own? She had to go with her parents?”
“Pretty much.” Aaron shrugged. “I taught about how little control women had over their lives last week, and one girl in the front row very eloquently told everyone how she felt about it. She yelled out, ‘That sucks!’ right in the middle of my lecture. And she was right. Women’s lives in the nineteenth century were difficult, and they were unable to vote or hold land back east. Their lives really did suck.”
“And you’re reading Mary’s journal right now?” she asked. She had gone to an online college, and she had a degree, but she certainly didn’t have a doctorate. Her new husband made her feel stupid.
“I am. And I’m more than reading it. I’m studying it. I’m noting how far she said she went every day and comparing it to how far the others in the same wagon train said they went. It’s fascinating. I’m—for the first time in my career—studying an entire wagon train, reading journals from every single wagon in the group of twenty-two wagons. I’ve never found such a complete record before, but when I put all these journals together, I realized they were from the same group.”
“Does that mean that you’ll get more information?” she asked.
“More? Not really. More complete, yes. That’s what I’ve been looking for, and why I’m so excited about this particular group of journals. I’m reading them one after the other. By the time I’m done, I could write an entire series of books with details about this particular party. I love it.”
Marissa smiled. “That really does sound like it could be fun. Do you enjoy writing?”
“I really don’t know. I enjoy writing historical articles that are usually published in university magazines, and I’ve tried my hand at a complete Oregon Trail book. I’ve never just tried to write fiction, though.”
“Maybe I’ll borrow your journals, and I’ll write a series of novels on it. That could really be fun.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Do you write?” She hadn’t seemed to be the type to him, but he’d certainly respect her more if she did write. It mattered to him to be around thinking people.
She shrugged. “I did some creative writing in high school and college.”
“College?” he asked, a little excited. “Do you have your degree?”
“Yes, but it’s just in liberal arts. My mom didn’t think it was a good idea for me to drive to the nearest college, because it would have been an hour each way, so I had to settle for an online degree.”
“Liberal arts?” he asked. “Do you want fries with that?” His own degree was in history, so he didn’t have much room to talk. He loved liberal arts degree jokes.
She made a face. “I’ve heard all the jokes. Heck, I’ve made all the jokes! But I happen to love what I do, and I couldn’t do it without my silly liberal arts degree.”
“You could take some classes at the college, if you felt like it. I could get you in at a quarter the usual rate.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll do that. I’ll think on it. I don’t really have time to go to school while I work.”
“I guess not. You decide, and I’ll support your decision, no matter what it is.”
“Thanks.” She was surprised he was being so good to her all of a sudden. “Call your parents after supper and tell them we’re married. If they’re anything like my parents, they’re going to insist we drive there to see them tomorrow, so they can meet me.”
“When are you telling your parents?” he asked.
“Tonight. I’m going to call them. They’re going to be disappointed to lose their errand-runner.”
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br /> He frowned at that. “What’s an errand-runner?”
“They thought I should run all their errands since I was home all day anyway. They never quite got that I was working all those hours and not sitting around eating bon bons.”
“Do you even like bon bons?” he asked.
“No, but I never turn down a piece of Dove chocolate!”
“I will keep that in mind.” Aaron took another bite of his food. “This is really good. I don’t suppose there’s more?”
Marissa nodded. “There is. It’s nice to not have to cook for one anymore.”
“You can feed me anytime.”
Four
As soon as she’d put the dishes in the dishwasher, Marissa sat down in the living room and called her mother. She knew her mom wouldn’t like it, but she had to get the conversation over and done with. She preferred to procrastinate difficult discussions, but they always weighed on her mind until she had them.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. How are things?” Marissa asked. She wanted to try to sound casual. Maybe some idle chit chat should start her day.
“Busy. When are you going to be home?” Her mother got straight to the point as always.
“Actually, I’m not. I got married today.” Marissa held her breath as she waited for the explosion.
She didn’t have to wait long. “You got married? Who did you marry?” Her mother sounded absolutely shocked at the news.
“A really nice professor.” And no one has ever been so clueless about what’s going on around him. “You’ll like him. His name is Aaron.” Marissa realized she’d never been as far away from her mother as she was at that moment. Mom tended to worry when she wasn’t close.
“Where does he live?”
“Minnesota. He’s a history professor, and he’s studying the Oregon Trail. When he talks about it, I find history fascinating.” Okay, maybe that was a stretch, but as usual, her mother was being overprotective. Marissa had to convince her everything was all right.