No Ordinary Bloke

by Mary Whitney

  Later that day, I maneuvered so I’d have some time alone with her mum. When Allison announced that she was going to take her nieces and nephews down the swimming hole, I said I’d stay back and help her mum with some broken drawers in her antique sideboard. Mrs. Wright beamed at me, while I was just happy to be inside working with my hands on furniture than being outside. Iowa was a little hot for a fair-skinned bloke.

  As I repositioned the bent rails the drawers should sit straight on, Mrs. Wright hovered over me. She told me the entire history of the sideboard, including everyone in their family who’d owned it and what they used to store in it. She seemed especially proud that her grandfather stored the family’s booze in it during prohibition. I told her that was reason enough to save the piece from disrepair.

  When I was done, I sat on the dining room floor, cleaning my greasy hands on a towel. Mrs. Wright was effusive as she repeatedly opened and shut the drawers. “They work wonderfully. Larry doesn’t know how to do these things at all, and Pete tried to fix them, but after working on them for three hours, they still never worked. I can’t wait to tell him that you did it in five minutes.”

  “Yeah, maybe don’t tell him that.” I chuckled. “He doesn’t like me very much.”

  “That’s Pete’s way. He’s just looking out for Allison. Don’t mind him.”

  I stared up at the woman for a moment. Allison had many of her same features, including the same profile, but Mrs. Wright had blue eyes and no freckles on her wrinkled cheeks. Allison’s red hair and green eyes must’ve come from her dad. “Mrs. Wright,” I said, as I rose so I could sit on a chair near her. “That’s actually what I’ve wanted to talk with you about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You see,” I said, taking a seat. “I like looking out for Allison as well. I love her. I want to marry her, but I wanted to talk with you first. I’d like your blessing before I ask her.”

  Mrs. Wright’s blue eyes lit up, and she clasped both her hands together. “Do you? Do you really?”

  “Of course. Very much.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy. She loves you. It’s so obvious.” Putting a hand over her hear she said, “I’d love for you to be my son-in-law.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. It would be an honor for me.”

  She leaned over and hugged me saying, “I know that Larry and Pete are going to so happy for you two.”

  I pulled away. “Pete? Really?”

  “Why not?” She sat back in her seat. “Has he said anything to you?”

  “No, but he often gives me a look like he would like to.”

  “I’m sorry. He’s just protective of her.” She patted her gray hair in thought and then looked up. “Can I suggest something?”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was very kind, and not necessary at all, for you to ask me before you asked Allison. I think it would go a long way with Pete if you asked him. He stepped in after her father died, and he feels a responsibility for her. It would mean a lot to be asked.”

  “Of course.” I smiled, but didn’t breathe as I wondered why the fuck I’d ever agreed to that.

  It took a good twenty-four hours for me to gather up enough courage and find my fucking balls to talk to Pete. Allison and her mum had gone shopping for the Fourth of July picnic. Larry was off working, while his wife and Pete’s watched the kids at the swimming hole. I told everyone I was going to work as well, but really I was just biding my time. I sat in my room looking out the window at Pete as he did chores and barked orders at the farmhands. After an hour, I saw him enter his office at the side of the barn. Because of all the machinery and tools, if he got mad, it wasn’t the safest location for me to request his sister’s hand, but it was better than the house. There was a shotgun in here.

  Looking for some psychological encouragement, I opened up my suitcase and took out the blue box from Tiffany’s. I peered in and admired the diamond that seemed to demand to be seen. It had been in a box far too long, and it was time it met its rightful owner. With a deep breath, I put it away and headed outside the house.

  Pete’s office door was open as I walked up to it. The giant man sat at his small desk, tapping away on a laptop. All around him were papers stacked high, though the space was orderly. If it was one of my co-worker’s offices, I’d say it had the looks of a place that made money. Since the farm always ran in the black, it was true here as well. He hadn’t heard me approach so I knocked on the door. “Hello.”

  He glanced over at me, looking above the reading glasses perched on his nose. From the neck down, he looked almost professorial. His red hair had already gone silver gray, but there was still some rusty color in his beard. Both were kept perfectly trimmed, and the male version of Allison’s green eyes coldly eyed the world. Below the neck, he looked like a farmer in a plaid shirt, jeans, and work boots. His gnarled hands also gave him away. Thank God I did carpentry, and my hands had taken a beating in my life. Who knows what Pete would’ve thought about me if I’d walked in with Adam’s tea-pouring fingers.

  “Can I help you?” asked Pete before he took a drink of water.

  “I hoped I could speak to you for a moment,” I said, stepping inside the cramped room.

  “All right…” He dragged out the words as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need?”

  “Well, I already spoke with your mother, but as you’re Allison’s eldest brother, I’d like to ask you as well. You must know how much I care for your sister. I love her dearly. I want to ask her to marry me. While the decision is up to her, I’d like for your blessing.”

  “Fine.”

  I was sure I’d heard him, but when he ignored me and went back to his typing, I thought I might’ve missed something. I muttered, “Thank you” and began to turn around when he said, “One more thing.”

  What a wanker. I looked at him again and asked flatly, “What is that?”

  He stood up, took a step toward me, and got right in my face. “I’ll beat you to a pulp if you hurt her.”

  It was not the time to laugh, but the whole situation struck me as funny. I searched for something polite to say in return and found nothing. The man was an arsehole. I didn’t care if he did find his dead father, took over a failing farm and made it flourish, and provided for Allison when she was young. The bloke was an overbearing prat. He deserved a well-placed punch in his ruddy face. Sadly, I wasn’t the man to do it—for many reasons. “I don’t know if Allison has told you or if you even would believe it, but I’ve been in my share of fights. You probably could beat me to a pulp, but I would never hurt her so you needn’t worry.”

  A smile slowly spread across his face. “Yeah, I heard about that. I’m glad you know your limits.”

  “I do.” I waved goodbye and said, “Thank you then.”

  Again I turned and again he called after me, “David.”

  “Yes.” I looked him in the eye.

  “What would you have done if I’d objected?”

  “Taken my chances, of course.” I smiled. “I would’ve asked her to marry me and hoped like hell I could still remember how to lay in a good punch or two before you tried to kill me.”

  A laugh began in his throat, and the sound moved down to his chest before you could see it shake his stomach. “That’s good,” he said, giving me the first friendly smile I’d ever received from him. He laughed a bit more and added, “I like that.”

  I walked on, but I was called once again. “One last thing,” he said.

  “Yes?” I said, wheeling around.

  “Can you ask before the Fourth? It would really make my mom happy to be able to tell all her friends at the parade.”

  “Not a problem.” I grinned. “I’ll do it tonight.”

  That night, Allison and I went for a walk after dark. She led me through a meadow to the top of a hill she loved. A full moon rose as we walked, and all around us fleeting little lights seemed to change from on to off. I pretended to cover my eyes. “Good God, it’s bright. I tho
ught we were in the country. It feels like we’re in Tokyo.”

  “It’s because it’s a full moon.” She laughed.

  “What are these other blinking lights?”

  “They’re fireflies, silly.”

  “Fireflies? Really?”

  “Yes, fireflies, lightning bugs. Don’t you have them in the U.K.?”

  I tried to grab the little buggers, but they were quick. “No, we don’t. I think God knew they would make Brits nervous.”

  “How can they make you nervous?” She chased after one with her hand. “They’re magical. Look at what they’re doing to the night.”

  As she looked all around admiring the twinkling lights, I touched my front pocket one more time and said, “You look happy, love.”

  “I am happy.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s a beautiful night. We’re on vacation in Iowa which I know isn’t a vacation for you, but it’s good for me to be home. You being here with me makes it all the more special.” She kissed my cheek. “I hope you’re having an okay time.”

  “I’m having a great time. I’m here with you.”

  “We live together. I happen to know that just because you’re with me doesn’t mean you’re having a great time.”

  “Of course, no one is always having a great time. There are unfortunate things like crap days at work and Liverpool losing, but I know my life is better with you in it.”

  She was coy. “Are you sure? Really? Don’t you ever miss all the variety you used to have?”

  “Fuck no.” I played with one of her curls. “I’m a changed man.”

  “Just don’t change again, okay?”

  “I don’t know about that…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because I do want things to change between us.”

  “You do?” Her brow furrowed so deeply that I felt a little badly for teasing her.

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s bloody high time.” I smiled and watched as her expression became completely perplexed as I dropped to one knee. When I took her hand in mine, you could see everything click in her mind and her worried face changed to a giddy one. As I pulled the ring out of my pocket, I said, “I know I’m just an ordinary bloke, but I love you with all my heart and I’ll do everything I can to make your life extraordinary.”

  “David…”

  I then slipped the Sylvia approved diamond ring onto her hand. “Will you marry me, my darling girl?”

  She alternated staring at me and the ring, and then she soon sank to her own knees so our eyes could meet again. I laughed. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be down here, love. Not you.”

  “It didn’t seem right—you down here all by yourself,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “I wanted to be with you. I love you.”

  I could feel mine mist up as well, so I joked. “I love you, too, but is that a yes or a no?”

  “Yes, of course. I can’t imagine a life without you. Doesn’t this just seem as it should be?” Her tears began in earnest, but her smile widened as well.

  “It does.” I kissed her madly as my heart swelled, taking all of my breath. I stopped for a moment and looked up into the dazzling night sky.

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  I smiled and kissed the little freckles on her neck. “Thanking my lucky stars, darling. Thanking my lucky stars.”

  Chickasaw County, Iowa

  Twenty Years Later

  Allison

  Every summer when we visited Iowa, I felt as if I’d become my mother or even my grandmother. As I stood outside scattering feed for the chickens, the screen door would slam, and without lifting my eyes, I stopped conversing with the birds and yelled, “Don’t slam the door.”

  “Sorry” was always the half-hearted reply from my daughter—whichever daughter—just as I’d answered my mother forty years ago. Most likely, my mother had said the same to her grandmother and so-on and so-on.

  There was only one difference in this circle of life. The flat Midwestern accent which had apologized was exchanged for a soft English lilt. This voice was the highest, so it had to be our youngest, Nicole, who we’d long ago given in to using the name she preferred, Nick. I turned to see her dressed in her standard long cutoffs, ratty t-shirt, and sneakers. She was our happy, well-adjusted tomboy. As she bounded down the porch steps, I asked, “Where are you off to this morning?”

  “Laura’s. I can’t handle it any longer,” she said, walking over to me.

  “Handle what?”

  “Bev and Maggie. They’ve spent the last hour arguing over earrings for the dance.”

  “Not my earrings I hope.”

  Her haphazard ponytail of red curls bounced from side to side as she shook her head. “Nah. They tried though.”

  “What happened?”

  “Dad caught them in your jewelry case. He chewed them out.” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s another reason why I’m leaving. He’s in a lousy mood. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing…” I looked down at the chickens, trying not to smile. “Maybe it’s just the heat.”

  “We come here every summer. Shouldn’t he be used to it?”

  “Should be, but you know part of him enjoys complaining. Men do that. I’m sure Uncle Pete is in London right now grumbling about something, too.” I looked into her eyes which were like looking into my own. “Do you want me to drive you to Laura’s?”

  “No, I want to walk. I like the heat.”

  “I do, too.” Pushing a few stray curls off her forehead, I said, “You can ask Laura to spend the night if you like, or you can stay there if she asks.”

  “Great! She actually already asked, and I’d much rather stay there.” She beamed up at me. “Thanks, Mum.”

  “Now, go on.” I pointed in the direction of the Yarborough’s farm. “I’ll go see what’s up with your dad.”

  After we said goodbye, I finished feeding the sweet hens and ornery roosters and headed inside the house. Upstairs I could hear the distinct clacking of high-heels against the wooden floors. Poking my head into the parlor, I checked my grandfather’s grandfather clock. The dance was still two hours away. Just as I began to withdraw my head from the room, I sensed a person on my left. I leaned in further to see David standing in front of Pete’s antique rifle case. He stared at the case and rubbed his chin.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Nothing, darling,” he mumbled.

  “Nothing?” I walked toward him. “You hate that thing. Why are you looking at it?” For as violent as my husband had once been in his life, he’d always hated guns.

  “Dunno.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I was just thinking...” He turned to me and grimaced. “I’d rather not touch the thing, but do you think having a rifle on the front porch when the bloke arrives is a bit much?”

  ‘What?!” I laughed. “Are you crazy? Do you want to do terrify the poor boy?”

  “Well, yes.”

  I held out my hand. “Come here, silly.”

  He smiled and took my hand as I led him over to the sofa. Though I was the one leading him, somehow he managed to get me on his lap as we sat down. After twenty years, three kids, and the color gray overtaking my red hair, my sweet husband never stopped treating me like I was his girlfriend. I tenderly touched his own gray hair and asked a question, though I already knew the answer. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  Pursing his lips, he sucked in a breath. After a moment, he said, “I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t like what?”

  “That Bev is going on a date.”

  “She’s seventeen, and she’s gone on dates before.”

  “Those were different. Those were in London. I knew the boys’ parents.”

  “I know Nolan’s mom. We went to high school together. Her husband is a Methodist minister of all things. What are you worried about?”

  David’s reluctant expression changed to his s
ignature grumpy face. I steeled myself for a barrage of cursing.

  “What am I fucking worried about?” He spewed. “I’ll tell you what I’m worried about. I could give a fuck if his father were the Archbishop of Canterbury himself. That Nolan is an eighteen year old bloke. I know what he thinks about all day long, and it’s not the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. It’s birds, birds, birds.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” I laughed. “Just like Bev thinks about boys. It’s okay.”

  “Okay? How can it be okay? He’s taking my baby girl out on a date in car. That’s not like hopping on the Tube and catching a movie.” He gave me a severe side-eye. “Things happen in cars. You know that.”

  “Things are going to happen in a car or not. Things happen everywhere.”

  “I’m not ready for them to happen to her.”

  “I’m guessing that some things already have happened.”

  I must’ve conjured up quite a mental image because David flinched and snapped, “Don’t say that.”

  “What happened to my husband who always said he wanted to raise independent, confident daughters with a good head on their shoulders?”

  “I do. I just don’t like her growing up too soon.”

  I sighed. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but whether you’re ready or not Bev is ready to have a life. Maggie isn’t. That’s why we said she could only go to the dance with her girlfriends, but Bev is ready to date. It’s only normal at her age, and I think we’ve equipped her enough to make the right decisions. She can be a young woman and still be your little girl.”