Eddie sighed, picked up his glass, and started up the stairs. He’d painted the whole house last night, and it had come out flawless, as usual. Hand-eye coordination was one thing Eddie prided in himself---that and his ability to hold his liquor. In the last month, he’d also worked on the kitchen: new flooring, a brand-new stove, and a wider window. Eddie was the only builder in town, and even though some residents remembered his father’s work ethic and so avoided the younger Edward, most people knew Eddie wasn’t mean or lazy, and he was highly requested. It was one of the reason’s he’d avoided settling down---so many women admired his skilled hands and found excuses to come to his home office that he saw no reason to choose one. It meant that more than a few of the women grew attached to him and caused trouble when they saw him with another one, but after a few years, squeamish or romantic maids learned to steer clear of him, and even warned off some of the more naïve ladies. Eddie had been active since he was 18, and he’d always lived in the same town, so he’d gone from the center of attention to a shunned pariah and back again more times than he could count in the last 17 years. He knew what some of the women thought of him, and he knew he never laid with a woman unless she knew he was a lone wolf, but gossip was more interesting than the truth.
After washing his glass, Eddie walked down the wide hall to his bedroom. The house came with three---he’d built it when he was far younger and optimistic than he was now. The biggest bedroom was his, and the only change he made to it was getting a larger bed. It was perhaps more lavish than he should have sprung for, but being a bachelor meant he had fewer things to spend his wages on than other men, and he knew his finances could take the hit. He did repaint the other bedrooms to a butter yellow hue, just in case they were used to baby’s rooms in the future, but he didn’t honestly think he would ever need it. In fact, Eddie was secretly expecting his bride to be an insane person, or perhaps even made up---an elaborate ruse someone carried to far. Mostly, Eddie imagined her as a spinster, frail and shrill and unsuitable for anyone less broken than he. He knew it was hypocritical, but he assumed any bride willing to marry him was probably damaged goods. He briefly recalled a story Evan told him--- his best friend since childhood whose younger brother received a mail order bride.
“Said she was 22, blonde, slender and talented,” Evan recited. “Parents and grandparents dead, but she said she was fertile and strong. He want to pick her up, and the woman was 400 pounds if she was a stone. Older than sin, dumber than a post. Sat on him and broke both his legs one night They’re still married.”
Eddie imagined waking up to a rotund woman squashing his chest slowly in the darkness of his room. He’d be pressed into his mattress and no one would ever find him. He shook his head roughly to bring himself back into the present, pressing one hand to his broad chest to feel his racing heart. He was far more nervous than he had been a moment ago, and he realized it was because he’d caught sight of Marsha’s last letter. After Uncle Raymond arranged the trip for Martha, he gave Eddie the stack of missives so he could get to know his new bride. She sounded too good to be true: 25, five and a half feet tall, creamy skin and a lovely singing voice. She worked with school children but wouldn’t mind staying home. She liked animals, cooking, and taking walks. She raised her younger sister along with her single father, and wanted children of her own some day. Her words were flowery and tinged with hope: hope ‘for their future’, for the ‘seed of their love’, for her success in the move, and for his ‘eternal happiness’; Eddie hated her already. He took a deep breath as he stared at her letter now---a short one informing him of her arrival date and how much she’d be bringing. Not much; two trunks and one large duffel.
Eddie pulled on a dark blue dress shirt and buttoned it over his hairy chest. It was close to noon, and the train station was around the corner, about three minute’s walk. The location was often noisy, but he loved living in the thriving center of action. He felt safe and complete when he could hear the sharp whistle of a steam engine careening down a track toward the town, or children playing in the streets on the way home from school. The streets were empty of children as he descended the stairs, but a few carriages were trundling to and from the center of town. He hoped he wouldn’t have to hail one for Marsha’s things; he trusted his arms to be able to carry her belongings.
There was one other house between his and the train stations---the house belonging to Evan and his wife Cheryl, who taught at the school. Evan was waiting at his porch with a baby on his hip---Emma or Charles, Eddie couldn’t tell which, they were both so young. The baby was in a long white garment that covered its feet, and it gurgled happily as its father waved cheerily to Eddie. Evan had matured long before Eddie had, and married to high school sweetheart to boot. Cheryl was plain but brilliant, and she’d been a schoolteacher since she was 16. She’d been the brightest in her class from the very start, and was the only woman Eddie ever met who regularly read books that weren’t about prairie life or the like. Cheryl was intimidating, for sure, but she made Evan incredibly happy. This was clear in the way he treated her, and the way he lived since they’d married. Evan hardly saw Eddie anymore, and when he did, he sometimes regaled him with tales of caring for sick infants, cooking disasters, or sleepless nights driven by spats with Cheryl. When Eddie mentioned that it sounded miserable, Evan’s face broke out into a huge smile.
“Only sometimes, but that’s the thing.” He lowered his voice and leaned in as though he was letting Eddie in on a huge secret. “Even when it is, it ain’t. Even when I’m up to my elbows in diapers or sleeping on the floor after Cheryl kicks me out of bed, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
“You’re crazy,” Eddie said, shaking his head. Evan simply sat back and rested his hands on his round belly.
“Still wouldn’t trade it for nothing.”
As Eddie approached the main platform, Evan’s words rang in his head the clearest. His mind was filled with images of a snaggle-toothed crone limping toward him, or a mean walrus of a woman swatting him when she got angry. He considered the possibility that she might be a drunk like him, which would prove to be so useless that he didn’t think the marriage would weather their shared disease. During the past few days, he even thought about purposely driving her away with invented drama or with his admittedly long list of carnal conquests. What he would not allow himself to imagine--- not even in for a moment---was the woman taking a look at his dark, broken joke of a life and past and walking away in disgust. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone finding him so repulsive that they couldn’t stand to live with him at all, even though it had already happened to him once.
As he neared the crowd, his heartbeat started to pound in her ears. Panic was beginning to slip into his bloodstream as his new impending reality finally settled around him. Here he was, about to meet the person he would probably spend the rest of his life with, and he didn’t feel anything stronger than the vague interest he felt for passerby. He caught sight of several women in dresses standing near their respective trunks--- most of them younger than he was, but a few were markedly older; one had a hunched back and a long, crooked nose like a witch in a child’s drawing. His heart stopped, and he felt sure that this was Martha--- it had to be. How else would God punish him for not getting his life together? Suddenly, all his fear and self-doubt was fighting to reach his brain, clawing at the soft flesh of his throat like wild animals. He stopped in his tracks, planning to turn and run and measuring the distance to the street in his mind in preparation. None of the women had paid him any mind yet, even though the crowd was starting to dissipate and moved around him like water around a boulder. He took one step back, then another. Eddie thought he could make it in about ten seconds, and he took another step back, then turned on his heel. It was as far as he got; as soon as he started to move forward, he crashed into a teenager holding a parasol and a sack of clothes.
“Sorry!” the young woman squeaked. She had dark red hair in along braid down her back and a dress in nearly the
exact shade. She scrambled to her feet and peered down at Eddie with her hands over mouth, dancing from foot to foot in a fit of anxiety. “I’m so sorry, sir!”
Eddie was dusting himself off and standing, his momentary anger already fading as he looked into the girl’s flushed, delicate face. Her green eyes were wide with fear, and he felt pity swell in his heart. “It’s ok,” he said gently. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, that was my fault.”
His words seem to relieve some of the panic in her body. “Absolutely not, but thank you for saying so. I wasn’t in my right mind.” She sounded so formal that Eddie nearly laughed; she was as precocious as any big city youngster he’d ever encountered.
“Even so, it’s never right to blame a young lady.” He smiled warmly at her, and was unsurprised to see her blush as red as her hair. He was surprised when she returned the smile---younger women tended to clam up when he met them. The smile transformed her face, and her eyes sparkled with mirth.
“And just what makes you think I’m young?” She cocked her head as she spoke to him and put a hand on her hip. Eddie noticed that her figure was rather fuller than most teenagers---indeed, he could see the swell of a full bosom under her red dress now that his eyes had grown used to her. He tore his gaze away, blushing furiously, and the young woman laughed. The sound was high and tinkling, and it wrenched something free inside him; he was drawn to and intimidated by her at the same time. Anger followed on the heels of his confused emotions, and he started to back away again.
“Wait!” The laughter faded from her face. “I’m sorry; it’s just that I’m used to being mistaken for a teenager, and I want to have some fun sometimes.”
Her words made Eddie pause. “You’re not a teenager.”
“I’m twenty-five,” the girl answered. “So your roving eyes weren’t perverted and rude. Just rude.” Her lips curved upward in a teasing smile, and Eddie fought a sudden desire to grab her and press her lips to his. Down, boy, he thought dryly.
“You know, most men would have introduced themselves by now,” the woman chided playfully.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said awkwardly. He looked at the woman’s sparkling emerald eyes and found himself wanting to tell her everything. He settled for a few sentences. “I’m Edward James. I’m not in my right mind today. I’m sure you don’t care, but I’m supposed to be meeting…someone here today, and my life is going to change after that. Everything in my head is all jumbled up, and I have no idea how to sort it out.” He laughed bitterly. “And now I’m dumping on to you. What is my new wife going to think?”
The redheaded woman laughed, a short, startled burst of noise that made her cover her mouth with her hands in the next second. Eddie looked at her sharply, waiting for an explanation as she fought to speak normally.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she asked. The woman spread her arms out on either side of her body and bowed. She giggled as she straightened, and covered her mouth again at the look of shock on Eddie’s face. Young, pretty and smart-mouthed. Apparently kind, too. Besides being much shorter than described, she seemed every bit as lovely as her letter. He tried to imagine driving her away with his raucous behavior or sordid past, as he’d briefly planned, and was annoyed to find himself overcome with guilt at the prospect.
Now this is punishment, Eddie thought. He couldn’t believe his luck.
After Martha stopped laughing, Eddie picked up her trunks and carried them wordlessly to the street. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, and several women shot his bicep covetous looks as he strolled past with Martha trotting behind him, unable to walk at his speed. Eddie was six feet tall, and Martha was only about five three; it was no wonder he’d mistaken her for a young girl.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Martha hissed at him as they headed past Evan’s house. Evan had retreated into his home, probably to feed or bathe one of his twins.
“You didn’t,” Eddie said. He started up the steps just as his muscles started to groan from carrying the heavy trunks. Martha had her duffel slung over one shoulder; she’d insisted on carrying it herself. “I’m just…not sure how to behave right now.” He shot her a weak smile before he opened the door. “I’ve never been married, or even had a girlfriend, and this was never my idea. You should know that.”
“Okay,” she answered, apparently bewildered as she lowered her gaze from his. Eddie wanted to feel bad, but he was still strangely numb. The sensation had fallen over him as soon as he picked up Martha’s trunks, and it hadn’t let go.
Martha was silent as they entered the house, but her mouth fell open when she saw the wide kitchen with its gleaming floors, and she let out a soft ooh at the sight of the wide bed in the bedroom.
“This place is so nice,” she said softly. “Your uncle said you built it yourself…is that true?” Her green eyes fell on him, and he nodded mutely. “How long have you been building things?”
“Long time.” Eddie sat on the bed and stared at his hands, trying to sort through his thoughts. She was beautiful---that he hadn’t expected; he also hadn’t expected her youth or energy. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d been so stuck on the idea that Martha would be an unsuitable bride that he was more shaken by the fact that she was more than suitable. Her normalcy nagged him, scratching at his confidence until a hole opened up and he started to sink into the waters of panic.
“Are you okay?” Martha asked, but her voice seemed far away. He felt the bed move, so he knew she’d sat next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her when he spoke again.
“No. I think you should leave.”
The short sentence was followed by a lengthy silence so pregnant with tension that Eddie nearly expected to faint even though he was sitting. Martha laughed again, a bitter burst of sound that stabbed at his heart like a knife. When she spoke, her icy tone was even worse.
“Decided I’m not good enough for you?” He finally looked up, and was startled to find her green eyes were swimming with tears.
“No,” he said, shocked. “Not at all. “ Her emotion made him uneasy, and triggered an avalanche of feeling within him.
“Then what is it?” Her voice was laden with strife, and she was struggling not to cry. “What could I have done already? What did I say?” She stood, and he almost laughed; she was barely taller than him, even while he sat. “And what’s so funny?”
“It’s me,” Eddie barked, his voice raw with pain. He stood suddenly, and she gasped, but didn’t step back. He could feel the press of anguish against his heart and knew tears would come if he kept going, but he couldn’t stop. “It’s me that’s not good enough, not you. My damn uncle should have told you I was a mess. I don’t know what he told you to get you here, but it was a lie. You’re young, and you’re clearly too good and too smart for the likes of me. I was planning to turn you away or drive you out…but I can’t do that to you. So please…” he begged, and his voice starting to crack as a single tear slid down his cheek. “…please, just leave. You’re going to anyway. Lola was right. I’m too broken.” Eddie sagged forward under the crushing weight of his self loathing and grief, and Martha stepped forward just in time. She caught him and guided him gently to the bed, surprising Eddie so much that his tears stopped immediately.
“Ssssh.” Martha whispered in his ear as she placed his head gently on her lap, stroking his black hair softly as his sobbing quieted. “Hush, you silly thing.” She smelled like cinnamon, and the cool skin of her hand relaxed him more than her words. He could feel the warmth of her thighs against his cheek, and the heavy muscle there surprised and comforted him further. When she spoke again, her voice was low and sweet, pouring over his body like honey. He imagined she used this tone with children.
“Don’t you think your uncle told me about you? Does he really seem the type to leave me---or any woman--- in the dark about your history?” She placed one hand on his brow. “And I really hope I don’t seem like the sort of person that would…fall for some sort of scheme.” She wri
nkled her nose, then smoothed her face out and smiled.
Eddie pulled his head from her lap and sat up, wiping the moisture from his face as she continued to speak.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Martha took one of his hands and squeezed it between both of hers. “I came here because your Uncle spoke very highly of you, and you sound like exactly the sort of person I need.” Eddie laughed at that, and Martha frowned.
“See, this is what I mean,” he said exasperatedly. He pulled away from her and stood, pacing by the side of the bed in agitation. “You’re so…romantic. I saw that in your letters. And that’s not a bad thing,” he said hurriedly in response to the pain in her eyes. “But there ain’t nothing romantic about me. If you know about me, then you know about my…problems. And you know there’s no solution. I can’t be who anybody else wants me to be. I can put on a mask, but I can’t change.” He met her eyes as forcefully as he could. “That’s why I think you should leave. I’m sorry, Martha.” He sighed, feeling lighter for having spoken his mind. Eddie watched Martha for a reaction, but her face was blank and unmoving. Finally, she stood again and walked up to where he stood. Her eyes were sharp and sober, and it occurred to him that no other woman had ever faced him so aggressively.
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 141