by L. M. Reed
Chapter 16
“So are you going to tell me where you’ve been sneaking off to every afternoon?” Nat asked suspiciously.
We were in the library at our customary table trying to study—at least I was trying to study, Nat seemed more intent on grilling me—while Becky, as usual, watched intently giving me the creeps. Nat had spent two months alternating between throwing hints at me and pumping me for information. I had actively tried to avoid her and whenever that wasn’t possible fielded her questions as best I could, but I could see she was through pretending to be patient.
“I’m not the sneaky one,” I retorted thinking that offense was the best defense and at least Nat had the grace to look shamefaced.
“You didn’t tell me you were engaged,” she accused, recovering quickly. “I had to figure that out on my own.”
“I tried to explain to you that we hadn’t even told my parents yet,” I said irritably, “and thanks to you we didn’t have to.”
“I still don’t understand why they’re okay with you marrying a housekeeper’s son.”
“I love him.”
“Like that matters,” she sniffed. “By all means, sleep with the guy, just don’t marry him.”
“Affairs are your MO.”
“Well excuse me, Miss Holier-than-thou!” Nat snapped. “I’m sure I’m not worthy to wipe your shoes.”
Taking a deep calming breath, it wouldn’t do to totally alienate her, I began in a conciliatory tone “I’m sorry, Nat…”
“Her name is Natalie,” Becky broke in harshly, speaking for the first time.
“I know what her name is,” I replied haughtily. “We’ve known each other since we were in diapers.”
I could see that my attitude had angered Becky, but I didn’t care. Her uncharacteristic outbursts were starting to annoy. Before, she would simply listen in on our conversations, but something had changed. Shrugging it off disinterestedly, I turned back to Nat, intent on continuing with my apology, to find her scrutinizing my head.
“What’s that in your hair?” she asked reaching over to hold a strand in her hand.
“I don’t know,” I replied, craning my neck straining to see.
My hair was shoulder length, but the part she was interested in was around my ear, making it impossible for me to get a good look.
“This…it looks like green paint.”
“Oh, that, I’m redecorating,” I explained. “It’s actually called sage.”
“Doing your own painting?” she asked skeptically.
“You know I enjoy things like that.”
“True…you’ve always been weird that way. So that’s the big secret…that’s why you aren’t answering your phone?”
“I can’t stop or else the paint will dry on the brush,” I said reasonably. “I always call you back. I’m almost done, and then I’ll have more time. Okay?”
“I suppose,” Nat said reluctantly.
“Now that the mystery is solved, do you mind if I get some studying done?” I asked impatiently. “I have a test tonight, and I don’t want to flunk it.”
“Why are you taking two night classes?” Nat frowned. “There are plenty of daylight hours for that type of thing.”
“I’ve already explained that my…practicum takes all morning, and the classes I needed weren’t offered in the afternoon,” I said reasonably. “I only have an hour to get this down, so if you don’t mind…” I left the sentence dangling hoping Nat would take the hint.
Nat fell silent but, try as I might, I couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of me. Over spring break I had almost finished painting the cottage—I just had the cutting in at the ceiling and baseboard in the bathroom left to do—and cringed to think of Nat figuring out what was going on. She had already proven herself untrustworthy, and even though my parents knew I was engaged, they didn’t know any details. They had no idea things were going to happen so quickly.
My parents had cornered me the day after my father’s confrontation with the Fowlkes demanding to know details. Knowing how James felt about honesty, I hadn’t lied to them except by omission. I prayed God would understand and forgive me for that.
Once again, I found myself making deals with them. I promised James and I wouldn’t marry until I graduated from college—although I left out the part about graduating early—and I guaranteed my continued good behavior and participation in my father’s quest for a justice appointment. In return, they would outwardly accept my engagement and continue to support me financially until I graduated.
My school was paid up through the end of the semester so April and May rent plus my allowance was all that my parents were going to have to pay for me. I could have pulled money out of my savings account, but I didn’t want them to know I had one so I thought it best to allow them to continue under the delusion that I was broke and they were still supporting me.
Soon I will be Mrs. James Wilson, I sighed silently.
Maybe then, I could relax. I was getting paranoid about everything. I even thought Nat was following me around just because I had seen a black Benz behind me a few times during the past couple of weeks. Casually mentioning it to Richard, he assured me that Nat was with him on most of those occasions because she had a paper due and he was helping her write it as usual. He was our savior when it came to writing or speaking. I would have never passed Speech if it hadn’t been for him. His grades were nothing to write home about, evenly split between A’s and B’s, but he managed to get them without even cracking a book most of the time.
Richard asked why I thought Nat would be following me and, because James had made me promise not to tell him anything, I simply said I was doing something I would rather keep secret for the time being. The disappointed look on his face was more than I could stand so I assured him he would be one of the very first to know when I was ready to tell. That seemed to appease him…at least temporarily.
Checking my watch, I realized I only had ten minutes to get to class.
“I’ve got to go,” I said hurriedly gathering my books.
“Mustn’t be late,” Becky taunted.
Becky was definitely becoming…belligerent. Nat either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care enough to say anything.
That’s one person I won’t miss, I decided, relieved that there was only a little over a month until graduation.
Surely I could last that long.
While I was taking the test, my thoughts kept straying to James. I wondered what he was doing at that moment. Probably mowing…it was amazing to me how much money people spent on watering their lawns knowing that it would need constant cutting.
Astonishingly enough, James seemed to thrive on that type of thing. The Fowlkes had a huge riding lawn mower and it was like some sort of overgrown toy to him. He had to use the push mower for part of the lawn and then the weed eater for trimming, but he seemed to relish the physical labor. I shuddered, better him than me. I would take painting over outdoor work anytime.
I missed him. Our schedules were so hectic, there was very little time left over for us. I did my student teaching in the mornings while James had classes and during the afternoons while James was working out at the track field, I painted the cottage. He had agreed to start his job for the Fowlkes in March, so that took up his evenings, and I had night classes on Mondays and Thursdays. Saturdays were track meets and Sunday as soon as we returned from church James was at the Fowlkes in order to get the rest of his work done. We had barely seen each other in March until spring break the previous week. Being together so much then had been…exhilarating.
Handing in the test, I knew I hadn’t done well, but I hoped it was good enough to get a passing grade. Driving back to my apartment, I tried to fight the depression that engulfed me. Whenever James and I were apart, I felt like half of me was missing.
I let myself into the apartment and after locking the door, felt someone grab me from behind.
Before I could scream a familiar voice whispered, “I’ve missed you,” in my ear.
Gasping, I turned and launched myself at him. Picking me up, James carried me to the couch.
“I thought you were working.”
“I finished early and couldn’t think of a single thing to do with my time.”
“Well, I might have some ideas about that.”
“Hmm, sounds interesting,” he replied solemnly. “Suggest away.”
“Good answer,” I nodded approvingly.
Dropping all pretenses at levity, I buried my face in his neck. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was depressed thinking we wouldn’t be able to see each other until Sunday.”
“That’s why I hurried through everything,” he admitted. “It was going to be a long and lonely weekend. Oh, I stopped by the cottage before I started work. I could see that you’re almost done and it looks great.”
“You like it?” I asked uncertainly, lifting my head to look into his eyes.
I knew I did, but it was important to me that James liked it. When I had asked for his input, he had just shrugged and said that I was better at that sort of thing than he was. Not much help there.
“Yes I do,” he said firmly. “It’s not too girly or too masculine. I can see us being very happy there.”
“I can see us being very happy anywhere as long as we’re together.”
“So you only have a little bit left in the bathroom and then you’ll be done?”
“I did think I might give the kitchen cabinets a coat of paint,” I frowned, “they look a little dingy.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” James said distractedly beginning to nuzzle the base of my throat, done with talking for the moment. “Just don’t wear yourself out.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, arching my neck to give him better access.
I closed my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. James made his way slowly up the side of my neck until he reached his goal.
“I love you,” he murmured against my lips.
“Show me,” I whispered achingly as he effectively silenced me.