by Ilsa Mayr
Aileen looked at him, surprised. "I don't think we need to say anything except that we got married. That's explanation enough."
"Won't they ask questions? This wedding did come out of the blue."
Aileen thought about that for a few seconds. "How about saying that in light of the school board's position, we decided to get married now instead of waiting until August."
"August? Why then?"
"Because it would have taken that long to plan a traditional wedding."
"You think they'll buy that?"
"Why not? They'll think you swept me off my feet and we're crazy about each other."
Taken by surprise, Quint jerked the steering wheel, making the car swerve onto the shoulder of the road. Quickly he brought it under control. "Sorry," he muttered.
In the silence that followed, Aileen studied her bouquet in a seemingly nonchalant manner.
"So, I swept you off your feet," Quint said, his tone musing.
"Why not? It sounds believable. I'm sure you've swept any number of women off their feet."
"But never a woman like you."
Aileen turned to look at him. The hot glint in his eyes took her breath away.
"It's reassuring to know that you think I could sweep you off your feet."
"I didn't say that exactly. I meant that the others will think so."
"You have doubts I can do it? I see I have my work cut out for me. But then I've never shied away from work or from a challenge."
His voice was silky, his grin cheeky, and it occurred to Aileen that unless she put on boots of lead and steel, sweeping her off her feet wouldn't be much work, or much of a challenge for him at all.
Aileen stuck pink candles into the hurricane lamps, replaced the glass cylinders, and stepped back to look at the table.
"Looks nice. Festive," Quint said, entering the screened porch at the back of the house.
"Thanks. It's such a pleasant evening, I thought we'd eat out here." She fluffed the chintz pillows of the wicker chairs that flanked the glass-topped table. "Mom often served dinner on the porch. I loved eating here."
"You miss her," Quint observed.
Aileen nodded.
"Especially today," he added softly. "Of course, if she had lived, the ranch probably would never have gotten into a financial mess, and you wouldn't have had to marry me."
"Or you me. This works both ways," she reminded him.
"True, except I don't view this marriage as quite the disaster you seem to think it is."
Aileen stared at him, struck mute.
Quint reached out and smoothed back a strand of hair that had escaped the Spanish comb holding it off Aileen's face. The touch loosened her tongue.
"I haven't said anything that could lead you to think I view our marriage as a disaster. Where did you come up with that idea?"
"You haven't said so, but your hand trembled when I held it during the ceremony."
Aileen's mouth nearly dropped open. "And that led you to this...this strange conclusion? I was nervous! Is that so surprising? I've never gotten married before." She turned toward the door. "Sh. Someone's coming." The crunching sound of footsteps on the gravel walk alerted them that the first of their guests had arrived even before Martha and Bob rounded the corner.
"Hey, there," Martha called out. "I know you said I didn't need to bring anything, but the first of the spinach was ready to be picked. I know how much you like spinach salad."
"That's wonderful! Come on in. I've got some mushrooms in the fridge and walnuts in the pantry. I may skip the steak and eat only salad."
"Speaking of steak," Quint said to Bob, "let's go check the meat." The men went outside.
Although Aileen noticed that Martha kept flicking curious glances at her, she chose to ignore them. No way did she want to answer the storm of questions that their announcement was going to elicit twice. She only hoped that Dora, who was usually the most punctual of women, wouldn't be late today, of all days.
When Martha opened the refrigerator, she did a double take. "You sure have been busy. You even baked a cake. I know it isn't your birthday. Is it Quint's?"
The question stopped Aileen in her tracks. She didn't even know her new husband's birth date. What else didn't she know?
"I just felt like baking a cake," she said quickly. "Would you put the rolls in the oven to get warm, please?"
Martha place the foil-wrapped rolls next to the scalloped potatoes in the oven. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. "Aileen, what's going on?"
Mercifully, the doorbell rang. "Our other guests have arrived," Aileen said. She hurried out of the kitchen, glad to escape Martha's questions.
Aileen greeted her new guests and escorted them to the porch.
"What a lovely bouquet," Dora said. Taking in the candles, the lace tablecloth, and Ruth's good china, she added, "This doesn't look like an ordinary dinner."
"That's what I said," Martha chimed in. "Aileen even baked a cake. Her special coconut cake with the lemonlime filling. She only bakes that cake for special occasions."
By now all eyes were focused on Aileen. She looked at Quint, who nodded. He came and stood beside her.
"You're both right. This is no ordinary Wednesday night supper," Quint said, and draped his arm over Aileen's shoulders.
The gesture of support heartened her. Here goes, she thought, and took a much-needed breath. "Quint and I got married today." The silence that followed her stark announcement was absolute. The only sound she heard was the tumultuous beating of her own heart. Drat. She hadn't meant to blurt the words out quite so bluntly.
The first sound to break the shocked quiet was Jennifer's delighted squeal.
"I knew it! I knew this was going to happen the first time I saw you two together." Jennifer jumped up and hugged Aileen and then Quint.
Aileen couldn't tell who came forward next, for everybody seemed to be hugging and congratulating her and Quint simultaneously. Questions and comments came faster than either could answer them.
"Hold on, folks." Quint finally managed to make himself heard over the voices. "Let me just say that Jennifer was right. Aileen and I...we were sort of inevitable. So, we decided to get married right away."
When Quint paused, Aileen said, "Since you're all the family that either of us has, we didn't see the need for a big, traditional wedding. You're here now to help us celebrate."
Martha nodded. "Very sensible. I never could see why people made such a circus out of a simple ceremony."
"I agree with Martha. And it will stop all that nonsense with the school board and save us a lot of unpleasantness," Dora said, her voice approving.
"Great for the ranch," Bob added. "Miss Ruth couldn't have asked for a better man than Quint to run it."
"I couldn't agree with you more." Quint had proven himself to be a good manager. Maybe too good. He had a tendency to go ahead and do things without consulting her. That bothered her. They'd have to come to some sort of compromise.
"We appreciate all your good wishes, but Aileen cooked a wonderful meal-"
"Which is getting cold. Please, everyone, sit down," Aileen said. "You must be hungry by now."
Jennifer punched Aileen playfully on the arm. "You rat. I can't believe you didn't even tell me, your best friend."
"Well, best friend, knowing how you are about keeping a secret, I would have had to tell everyone."
Jennifer started to object, but ended up sheepishly admitting that Aileen was right. "I just get so excited I have to share the news with someone. I can't help myself. Never could. So, what did you wear?"
"A new silk dress. Pale blue. I'll show you our wedding portrait as soon as we get it. Quint hired a photographer."
"Cool," Jennifer said, and flicked Quint a look of approval.
"I want to see it too. Me and Bob got married right after he got back from Korea. He wore his uniform, and I had a beige suit with the prettiest corsage pinned to my shoulder."
"And one of them funny flow
erpot hats," Bob added. "Martha, pass the potatoes, please."
"It was a pillbox hat," Martha added, with a disdainful look at her husband. She held the bowl of potatoes for a moment as if considering whether Bob ought to have any after the disparaging remark about her hat. Finally she thrust the bowl at him. "It was not a funny hat. It was stylish. A few years later Jackie Kennedy made that hat famous."
"Andy and I drove to Vegas on his Harley and got married there," Jennifer said. "We both wore our new black leather outfits. It was so cool." Jennifer sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. Then, her forehead creased thoughtfully, she said, "Isn't it weird that none of us here had a traditional wedding?"
"I'm only sorry about one thing. No champagne. If I'd known, I would have brought a bottle and we could have toasted the newlyweds," Dora said.
"We can still do that. I've got a bottle chilling," Quint said.
"You have?" Aileen asked. Her new husband was full of surprises.
"I hid it behind the milk carton. Do we have wine glasses?"
Aileen liked Quint's use of the word we. And that he'd thought to buy the wine. "We not only have wine glasses, we even have champagne flutes. We can do this in style. I think the champagne will go great with the cake."
"The dinner was a hit," Quint said as they were cleaning up the kitchen. "Don't you think so?"
"Yes," she said, with a smile to reassure him. If he needed reassurance. She wasn't that good at reading Quint yet. "Once they got over the shock of our marriage, they enjoyed the dinner." Pausing in the act of hand-drying the fine china plates, she said, "Actually, they took it better than I thought they would. It was almost like they were thinking, `We're surprised, and yet we aren't really, because we expected it.' What an odd reaction. And they all had it, even Dora. I thought she might have a few reservations."
"Aren't you glad that they approved?"
"Of course. It'll make life easier." Deep down, had she expected to have to defend herself to Dora? To list all the reasons why it had been necessary to get married to Quint? If so, why? Maybe to reassure herself yet again? Possibly.
Aileen stole a look at Quint. He didn't seem to be plagued by doubts and second thoughts. His hands were steady while hers were a little shaky. Not a good thing when handling her mother's good china.
"Where do these dishes go?" Quint asked.
"In the china cabinet in the dining room. If you'll set them on the dining room table, I'll put them away tomorrow."
"You trust me with them?"
Why not, since I'm trusting you with my life, my future, and my heart. Aloud she said, "You seem to have steady hands." She watched him carry the tray of plates out. Then she looked around the kitchen. Everything was put away. Now what?
Should she say good night and go up to her room? Pretend this was just like any other evening they'd spent together and not her wedding night? If only she had more experience with men, if only....Quint returned, cutting short her fruitless dithering.
"Looks like we're all done in here," he said.
Aileen nodded. She folded the dishtowel and then shook it out and refolded it again. Before she could repeat the process, Quint was by her side. He took the dishtowel from her hand and laid it on the counter.
"You're nervous," Quint said with a frown. "You were not nervous around me before, not even that first night when I was a total stranger and barged in on you, bold as brass, and demanded a room in your house."
Aileen shrugged, careful not to meet his eyes. "You were only my partner in the ranch then. Nothing else."
"And now I'm your husband, and that makes you nervous?"
"Why wouldn't it? It adds a whole new dimension to our relationship."
Quint shook his head, a little bewildered. "Women sure are complicated. Correction, some women are."
"Meaning me?"
"Meaning you."
"Why? Because I'm not sure that getting married was the right thing to do?" Quickly Aileen shook her head. "What am I saying? It was the right thing to do. Of course, it was. We had no choice."
"But you wish we'd had a choice?" Quint asked softly.
"Sure. Don't you?"
"Let me ask you something. Do you think that you and I could have shared this house forever, with you upstairs and me downstairs, without anything happening between us?"
Aileen didn't know what to say. When she remembered all the dreams she'd had about Quint, she felt blood rush to her face.
"We're attracted to each other. If you deny that, you're lying to yourself."
When she didn't say anything, but looked at him with wide, wondering eyes that he thought held a trace of panic, he added, "Oh heck, Aileen. What I mean is, I'm not going to drag you by your beautiful hair to the nearest bed, so relax. I like my women warm, willing, and showing some initiative."
"Oh."
"Well, it's been a long, full day. I'm turning in." Quint bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead.
Aileen watched her husband walk out of the room. On her wedding night. With just a kiss on her forehead. Once again her feelings were all over the map, ranging from relief to disappointment to worry. Quint's words, showing some initiative, scared the living daylights out of her. What exactly did that mean?
Here she was, a well-read, educated woman, who was abysmally ignorant about male-female relationships. It wasn't that she didn't know about procreation, but knowing the biological facts didn't help one bit when she faced Quint. When she looked into those mesmerizing green eyes of his, she understood why women swooned. At least those in novels did. Or used to. In the nineteenth century.
Get a grip. Swooning hardly qualified as showing initiative. It probably hadn't even occurred to Quint that she lacked experience.
Aileen massaged her temples. Maybe reading or rereading some of the great love stories would give her a clue about this man-woman conundrum. But not the Anna Karenina or Madame Bovary kind of novels. Those ended tragically. What she needed were modern love stories, featuring heroines who knew about initiative. When she realized she was thinking of consulting books, she rolled her eyes. She was taking the intellectual approach. Or, as Quint would say, she was being "teachery."
When she got home from school the next day, Quint joined her immediately. He must have been waiting for her.
"So, how did it go? Anybody give you a hard time?" he asked, while pouring her a cup of coffee.
"It went more smoothly than I'd hoped."
"That's good." He handed her the coffee.
Aileen sat down and with a sigh slipped her feet out of her pumps. She inhaled the aroma. "You must have just brewed this. I sure can use it. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Quint poured himself a cup and sat down at the table across from Aileen. "Tell me what happened."
"I went to the office to check my mailbox. The sub had left me notes, as I'd asked. I'll have you know that my kids behaved reasonably well, which is good, since I'd threatened them with a week's worth of lunch detentions or the loss of a big toe, whichever they preferred."
Quint grinned. "You're a toughie, aren't you? I bet the kids like that even if they pretend they don't."
"I don't know about that," Aileen said. "Anyway, there were a few people in the office, which was perfect. Too many and my announcement might have been lost in the noise, and too few, they'd have asked questions. I was just steeling myself to speak when the principal came in. This was ideal. So I said to the secretary that she might want to change the name on my box, as it was now Fernandez. I told her I was sorry that my married name would mess up the alphabetical arrangement of the boxes. I handed her my signed absence form and left."
"What was the reaction?"
"Stunned silence while I was there. What was said later?" She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Anyway, in my classroom I wrote `Mrs. Fernandez' on the board. Though they all read it, none of my homeroom students asked about it until Norman arrived. In my mind I think of him as Norman the Nosy. Predictably, he asked if Mrs. Fernandez wa
s another sub. I told him that it was my new name. He said congratulations and in the next breath asked if he could go to his locker. After correcting his `can I go' to `may I go' once again, I told him he could." Aileen stopped to take a sip of coffee.
"Go on," Quint said.
"I took attendance and reminded the kids to pay attention to the announcements which had come on over the PA. After the baseball team was congratulated on its victory, Norman's voice came on loud and clear, announcing that I was now Mrs. Fernandez. He congratulated me and invited the students to come by my room to wish me well. At first I wasn't sure whether I should be annoyed with Norman, but then I realized he saved me from having to tell umpteen people individually."
"I like Nosy Norman," Quint said with a grin.
"Actually, I do too."
"How did the rest of the day go?"
"Okay, except for a couple of snide remarks about getting married just to keep my job, which I tried to ignore." She paused for a moment. "You know, if this marriage doesn't work out, I'll get an awful lot of snide remarks."
"Why wouldn't it work out? We have too much at stake for it not to work out," Quint said, his voice rock steady.
Work.
That seemed to be the operative word for the next month. With school drawing to a close, there were a lot of afterschool activities Aileen had to attend. There were finals to give, grades to hand in, textbooks to count and store, and her desk to empty. At home she spent the remaining daylight hours in the garden. She had never put in such a big garden single-handedly. When graduation ceremonies were finally over, she heaved a sigh of relief. Now she could concentrate on her work at home.
During the week between the end of the semester and the beginning of summer school, Aileen washed all the windows and the curtains. She cleaned out closets and drawers. She waxed all the floors. She worked feverishlyin part to get the work done, in part to deal with her disappointment.
Quint hadn't come to the graduation ceremony, though he had promised. She'd had to put up with a number of less-than-tactful comments about the conspicuous absence of her new husband. But what made her even more angry was the fact that he hadn't spent any time with her. Aileen knew how much work there was on the ranch, knew he barely took time out to eat and sleep, but still, his total neglect of her hurt.