Romancing Adrienne

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  He reached for the source of pain and felt a large bandage over it. He groaned and tried to sit up. He doubled over in pain and laid back down. Why can’t I move without hurting? He was determined to sit up, so he held his hand over his wound and took his time sitting up. When he was finally sitting up in his bed, he noticed a glass of water and two pills on his nightstand. He didn’t bother to consider if it was for him. He assumed the doctor had left them there for him to take when he woke up. He gratefully took the pills and swallowed them. He almost gagged on the water. He didn’t feel like eating or drinking anything. He put the glass back down and sat still for a few minutes. The pain was still intense but he didn’t want to further aggravate it by moving.

  I got shot. No wonder I’m in so much pain this morning. I went through surgery without any medication. But she was alright so it was worth it. Adrienne. Where is she? He took a moment to will his mild headache away before he opened his eyes and looked around his room. When he did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Adrienne was sitting across the room by the dresser. Her hands were holding his play which was half done. He almost smiled but realized she was fuming. Uh oh. This isn’t going to be good.

  She tapped her feet on the floor and crossed her arms. Her eyes pierced him with enough intensity that he had to look away. “I read what you wrote so far in your play,” she finally said in an irritated voice.

  He winced. His headache suddenly seemed to get worse. He brought his hand up to his forehead and rubbed it where the pain shot through him. His chest felt better now that he was sitting still, but that was little consolation.

  “It’s interesting to see what you really think of me,” she continued. “I had no idea I was so snobby and cold.”

  “Can we talk about this later?” he weakly asked. He wasn’t in any shape to explain his comedy to her at the moment.

  “I want to talk about it now.” She uncrossed her arms and motioned to his unfinished play. “Let’s start at the beginning. I notice my name has been changed, but there’s no denying it’s me. You called me Iris Frigid. As in ‘I am frigid.’ Apparently, your character is likeable, though a bit clumsy. But there’s nothing likeable about me at all. I dread contact with any man and need to be tamed. It’s almost like getting me to think well of the opposite sex is a game to you.”

  “It’s supposed to be a comedy,” he replied despite the throbbing pain in his head. When was the pain medicine going to work?

  “I don’t find it very humorous. Here I am in the first act, laughing as your play got destroyed because I just ran away from a slobbering old fool I was supposed to marry. Then when we get to the remote village, you are forced to marry me against your will in order to avoid marrying the village spinster who looks atrocious. Of course, since I have vowed to never let a man near me, I am a hard woman to get along with. I even dress in your clothes in order to look unattractive.”

  “It’s a work of fiction. You’re not like that character.”

  “Oh really? She sure sounds a lot like me. She came from a wealthy family so she detests any thought of housework and she couldn’t handle getting dirty when she had to wash the clothes.”

  He grinned. “She got all tangled up in the wash and fell into the river. It was funny.”

  “Funny for you maybe, but I don’t find is particularly humorous.”

  “If you saw it on stage, it would be a riot.”

  She tensed. “And she’s a lousy cook. She almost burns the house down, and the very smell of her food makes everyone gag.”

  “Now, you can clearly see that she’s not you.”

  She flipped through the pages he had written. “She is impossible to get along with. There is no likeable quality in her character.”

  “I haven’t written the turning point in her character yet. Give me time and you’ll see where I’m going with it.”

  “I don’t think that will happen. I have already decided that I won’t read anything else you write.”

  He sighed. “Did you notice what my character is like? I’m a country bumpkin who can’t speak proper English. I also bump into everything.”

  “Including her. They end up falling into a pile of leaves together.”

  “Where they kiss and she melts in his arms.” He smiled. “I like that part. It’s the first time she softens up.”

  She bolted to her feet. “I don’t like any of this. You are going to present this to a theatre owner in New York with the hopes everyone will see this acted out on stage?”

  He didn’t know what to say. Whatever he said, she would take it the wrong way.

  “I ought to tear this garbage up,” she snapped.

  “No!” He tried to stand up but the pain in his lower chest brought him back to his sitting position. “Please, don’t destroy it again. I need to have something to hand in to Mr. Adams or I’ll lose my job.”

  She yelled in aggravation as she threw the papers into the air so they fell at random all over the floor. “I knew it! You never cared about me. I was nothing but a subject for your play.”

  “Adrienne, that’s not true. I want to marry you.”

  “So you can have a happy ending?”

  “Sure. It’s the only way a romantic comedy can end.”

  “Well, this is real life. I’m not Iris. I’m not going to follow your script. As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing else to say to one another.”

  His eyes grew wide. She couldn’t be serious. He forced himself to stand up despite the pain. “Adrienne, I may use some reality in my work, but the play is a piece of fiction. I don’t see you the way I see Iris. You’re just scared and alone. Iris is bitter and resentful.”

  “Scared and alone? So I’m someone you need to feel sympathy for. I don’t know what is worse: being a nag or pathetic.”

  “You’re neither. I love you. I think you’re wonderful. You’ve just had some bad experiences.”

  “Which I’m sure you’ll incorporate into your precious play.”

  He tried to stop her as she walked to the door but he winced as the pain stabbed him. “Please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”

  She angrily left the room and slammed the door.

  He was too weak to follow her.

  She quickly opened the door. “Take two pills every four to six hours. Don’t lift anything heavy and don’t eat anything that’s hard on the digestive system. The bottle of pills is on the dresser.” She slammed the door again.

  He groaned. He wanted to run after her and stop her but he fell to the floor, exhausted and in pain. He should have been relieved that she didn’t tear up his work, but he would rather have her in his arms. He leaned against the bed and closed his eyes. He was in no shape to do anything at the moment. How am I going to get her back?

  ***

  Later that day after Trevor fell asleep due to the medication, someone knocked on his door. He had just finished dressing for the day, so he opened the door. He had hoped it was Adrienne but he hid his disappointment when he saw the kind, old woman.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Gallows,” he said.

  “I thought you should know Adrienne’s father came for her. She didn’t want to go with him but he insisted so they went to the train station with Mr. Gallows.”

  Her father is going to take her to marry Mr. Parker. “What time did they leave?” he asked.

  “Just a few minutes ago. Trevor, she looked so sad but she willingly went with him.”

  He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t scream in aggravation. Even if she never spoke to him again, he couldn’t let her marry someone who only valued her for her ability to have children. “Can I take a horse to the train station?”

  “I hoped you would want to bring her back. You can take Willow.”

  He grabbed his pain pills and wallet and left the room. He didn’t waste time. Though his chest was still tender, the medicine did help him feel better. He rode Willow hard to the train station. When he got there, the train had just pulled out. He gritted his teeth. There she
was, the love of his life, heading back west to marry another man. He was in no shape to ride a horse to the next train station. As it was, his pain was growing intense due to being bounced around on the horse. He forced Willow to remain still while he waited for the pain to subside so it was only mild again. He took two more pills.

  Mr. Gallows walked up to him. “I’ll send a request for the next train to stop here. They went to San Francisco. I got their address. Come along. You are in no shape to stay on a horse right now.”

  He knew the man was right so he gingerly got off of Willow. He limped to the platform of the train station and sat down. Mr. Gallows took Willow and tied her up. Trevor took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. He was angry. Why hadn’t he ridden Willow faster? Because it nearly killed me to ride her as hard as I did. If he had gone faster, he would have doubled over in pain and fell off the animal. He never felt so helpless in his entire life. Why did she have to read the play before I finished it? If they had married, then her father wouldn’t have been able to take her back. He didn’t want to cry. He was in danger of losing her for good. He anxiously brushed the tears from his eyes. Being a writer made him more sensitive to emotions than he cared to admit.

  Mr. Gallows handed him a small loaf of bread, a train ticket to San Francisco and some money. “I don’t want to see her with Mr. Parker either. You’ll catch the afternoon train. Hopefully, a couple of hours won’t make that much of a difference.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he said.

  Mr. Gallows nodded and went back to the platform.

  He thanked the Lord for Mr. Gallows’ generosity. Even if she doesn’t want to marry me, please let me stop her father from insisting on her marriage to Mr. Parker.

  When the train came at two, he got on it and sat down in his seat. He looked at the seat across from him which was vacant. He recalled how she looked when he first saw her. She reminded him so much of Emma, except Emma had blond hair and green eyes. She’s soft and delicate with a mixture of passion. He tried not to imagine things that weren’t likely to ever be, but the train ride was a long one. As he dozed off to sleep, he dreamt that they had married that day and he was sitting next to her on the train heading for New York. When he woke up, he looked over, expecting to see her sitting next to him. But the empty seat only reminded him of how things hadn’t gone as planned.

  Nothing went as planned from the moment he said good-bye to his family. He had fully anticipated arriving in New York with his finished play in hand. He would attend the writer’s class and bide his time until he was due to hand in his play to Mr. Adams for review. Then he would begin his career as a playwright. Everything was in order and carefully planned out. But the robbers came on the train, stole his money, Adrienne threw him off the train in her efforts to avoid her father and he ended up staying in a small town and fell in love. I won’t let you marry Mr. Parker, Adrienne. I promise you that I will do everything I can to save you from what you fought so hard to avoid. Then I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adrienne decided she wouldn’t fight her destiny anymore. She would follow along with her father’s arrangement and marry Mr. Parker so she could have his children. She would just close her eyes and pray she would get pregnant right away. Maybe after she had a couple of children, he would leave her alone. She tried not to think of Trevor. She missed him, even though she didn’t want to. The train ride back to California was long and exhausting. She refused to talk to her father who spent his entire time next to her so she couldn’t escape again.

  When she got off the train, her mother apologized to her and gave her a long hug. She cried and hugged her mother back. She had missed her mother. After her father went to arrange a wedding that evening between her and Mr. Parker, she and her mother had a long talk.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” her mother cried. “I didn’t tell him what I did but he went to the train station and found out which train you went on, where you were headed and rode a horse until he caught up with you. He searched all the towns in the area where you jumped off the train until he found you. I pleaded with him to let you go your own way, but he is convinced that his way is best.”

  “It’s alright, Mother. I’ve been running all this time but I have to give up at some point. I can’t hide forever. I might as well accept my life with Mr. Parker.”

  “I had wished it would be different for you. You should get the chance to marry for love or not marry at all.”

  A new wave of tears fell from her eyes. Trevor didn’t love her. He was only interested in his stupid play. Everything he did and said was for the play. Wasn’t being with Mr. Parker and knowing he didn’t care for her and she didn’t care for him better than living under the hope that Trevor might find her interesting enough to keep for life?

  “I won’t argue with Father anymore,” she finally told her mother.

  “I wish it could be different.”

  She nodded. She did too, but it wasn’t meant to be. She replayed her adventure in Virginia and the people she met. She recalled the way Trevor smiled at her, the conversations they had shared, and how he kissed her. Didn’t he care for her, even a little? Maybe if she pretended he had, then it would get her through the rest of her life to believe someone had valued her for who she was instead of what she could give him.

  Mr. Parker didn’t come by for a visit, nor was she anxious for him to. They would be married that evening, and that was too soon to see him. She didn’t relish her role but numbly went along with it. She would have gladly traded all the money in the world to be in a marriage with a Trevor who honestly loved her.

  She went through the motions as if in a dream. She bathed, put on perfume and makeup. She let Mr. Parker’s two female servants dress her in a beautiful gown and fix her hair so that it fell in gentle waves around her shoulders. Though they were laughing and marveling at how wonderful she looked, she stared at the wall in front of her. She forced all thoughts of anyone or anything from her mind. She stood up when it was time to go to the church at eight. She followed her parents to the carriage but didn’t listen to their conversation.

  At one point, her father turned to her. “One day, you’ll understand. You’re only eighteen. You don’t know what’s best for you. Mr. Parker will be good to you.”

  Trevor would have been better. She forced the thought from her mind. Trevor was in Virginia, a long way from her. It didn’t matter if he was sincere or not. She belonged to Mr. Parker. She closed her eyes, willing her tears to not fall from her eyes so she wouldn’t ruin her make-up.

  When they arrived at the church, she waited in the bridal chamber with her friends Annabelle and Bianca, but she didn’t pay attention to what they were saying. Someone knocked on the door to announce that the groom was ready. She sighed. Mr. Parker is ready. I better do what he wants. He’s in control now. She took a deep breath and followed Annabelle and Bianca out of the room. Bianca was her maid of honor. Annabelle was her bridesmaid.

  She stood behind them and waited for her turn to walk down the aisle. When her father reached his arm out to her, she refused to look at him. The people rose from their pews as the wedding march started, and she dragged her feet in line with her father’s footsteps. She was barely aware that people commented on how beautiful she looked. Instead, she allowed herself to imagine, just for the moment, that Trevor was waiting for her at the front of the church.

  Her father handed her over to Mr. Parker. She couldn’t look at him as she took his hand. She cringed at his touch. I hope sex doesn’t last long. As the preacher began to speak, someone called out, “Stop the wedding! I love you, Adrienne!”

  She blinked. Was she imagining things? When Mr. Parker let go of her hand and glanced over his shoulder, she allowed herself to imagine that Trevor was there to rescue her. She slowly turned and cried with relief when she saw that Trevor was indeed running down the aisle toward her. He was sorely out of place in his farm clothes that hadn’t been changed for a fe
w days, but she never saw a more handsome sight.

  He was out of breath by the time he reached her. “Adrienne, you can’t go through with this. Don’t you know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

  Despite the murmurs around her and Mr. Parker’s stunned expression, she hugged him tightly. “I love you too, Trevor. I don’t want to marry Mr. Parker.”

  He hugged her back. “Then don’t, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Come to New York with me. I’ll be a playwright and you can be my beautiful and wonderful wife.”

  “I’d go anywhere with you, Trevor.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” her father hissed.

  She pulled away from Trevor so she could look at her father. “I can’t marry Mr. Parker. I’m going to New York with Trevor. I want to be with him.” And he wants to be with me! He does love me after all!

  “Let her go with him,” her mother softly told her father. “He loves her so much he came all the way to San Francisco to get her back. Don’t you want her to be as happy as we’ve been?”

  “I was only going to marry her as a favor to you,” Mr. Parker confessed to her father. “I would rather be with Ashley.”

  Ashley?

  “I had no idea...” Her father looked bewildered. “I’m sorry to both of you,” he told Adrienne and Mr. Parker. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him. “Thank you, Father.”

  He hugged her back.

  Trevor smiled widely at her. “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

  “Just try to stop me,” she replied.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Miss Constance, will you marry me?” Mr. Parker asked the woman from the back of the church.