Proposition (8 page)

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Authors: Ola Wegner

BOOK: Proposition
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She found it very hard to stop her eyes from crawling all over his barely clad form. He wore nothing apart from a pair of rather snug trunks.

He all but stared at her, obviously not just a bit dumbstruck.

She looked at him, being very careful to keep her eyes on his face. “You’re all right?”

He blinked several times before speaking. “Yes.” He swallowed. “Thank you.”

She shrugged dismissively. “It’s nothing. But it’d be nice if you removed this to the hall.” She pointed to his suitcase.

“Yes, sure,” he agreed.

To her relief he moved his hairy chest out of her vision.

“I’m going to have a shower now,” she mumbled nervously.

Just before she walked into the bathroom, she added in an unnaturally high voice, “Could you please put on a t-shirt?”

* * * *

On Tuesday morning, she wakened similar to the day before. A mug with hot fragrant coffee stood on the bedside. Jake, turned with his back to her, was adjusting his tie in front of the full-length mirror.

She reached for her glasses and checked the clock. It was seven o’clock.

“You’re starting work so early today, too?” she asked with a yawn.

Instantly, he turned around. He walked to the bed, leaned over her, and kissed the top of her head. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?”

He smelt nice. “Yes, I did.” She allowed herself a small smile.

His face instantly brightened. “I’ll try to be home earlier today I promise.”

“But I’ll be much later today, not earlier than nine thirty.” She sat up in bed, reached for the coffee, and took a sip. ”You make good coffee.”

His expression fell flat. “So late? You’re going out somewhere?” he asked, a slight scowl on his face. “With some girlfriends perhaps?” he asked trying to sound casual.

She rolled her eyes. “No, I finish work at nine.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Nine pm?”

Amy stared at him in exasperation over the rim of her mug. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed but most libraries are open late hours in the afternoon, and often also in the evening. And because our library is the biggest in town, we are even open for a few hours every Sunday from September till May.”

“How often do you have to stay so late?” he asked with frown.

“Well, twice a week, every Tuesday and Thursday,” Amy replied.

“I’ll pick you up,” he announced.

Amy shook her head. “You don’t have to. I’ve been working there for two years now and nothing has ever happened to me when finishing late.”

“I don’t care.” His tone turned firm. “My wife won’t be returning home alone at night.”

“Nine pm is hardly the middle of the night!” Amy cried.

His jaw clenched. “I’ll pick you up.”

Amy sigh in silent frustration before putting her coffee back on the bedside table. She reached out to pull at his sleeve. Reluctantly, he sat next to her on the bed edge of the bed.

“But you really don’t have to pick me up.” She tried to speak calmly. “My coworker usually gives me a lift.”

“Your coworker?” he asked sharply.

Amy nodded. “Yes, Laura, she usually works with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays and her husband always comes to drive her home. They live downtown, and they are always kind enough to drop me just by my condo.”

Jake stood up, looking down at her. “Tell Laura to thank her husband, but he won’t have to come for her today,” he announced. “I will happily deliver Laura home when I pick you up after work.”

“I’ve told you that you don’t have to!” she cried. She was losing her patience with him. “Why do you have to complicate everything so much?” she muttered more to herself than to him, and crossed her arms over her chest in the gesture of a five-year-old.

“There’s nothing complicated about this. I want my wife safe at home, that’s all,” he said in a calm voice, but with a hard edge to it.

Amy was doing a huffing of her own, sitting cross-legged on the bed, her chin propped on her fist. She didn’t like to be told what she was to do. Damn, she liked her independence, and there was no need for him to pick her up after work.

“Or perhaps you’re ashamed to admit you married me in front of your friends?” He surprised her with the angry question.

“No! Of course not!” she denied at once. She frowned at him and at the same time wondered from where he got such a strange idea.

“Besides, Laura already knows about our marriage,” she added with a shrug.

“You told your friends from work?” he asked, sounding more composed and relieved.

Amy eyed him wryly. “Yes, I did. They noticed the ring and the wedding band right away,” she explained simply, then lifted her chin up, and added with dignity, “I saw no reason to hide the fact of our marriage.”

He sat beside her again, and smoothed his hand over her wild from sleep hair. “I forgot to thank you for yesterday’s dinner. It was very good.”

She shrugged off the compliment dismissively. “It was only a fried chicken dish with salad, nothing elaborate. I’m sure you’ve eaten much fancier food at restaurants.”

“But it’s so different when someone prepares it especially for you.” He spoke softly as he pulled her to him. “Let me pick you up after work tonight. I’ll be worried waiting for you here,” he murmured into her neck.

Amy allowed herself another weary sigh before conceding reluctantly. “Ok, if it’s so important for you,” she relented. After all, there was hardly a point in arguing with him about such a trivial thing.

Some of the tension seemed to slip away from him, and she felt gentle kisses on her neck, just below her ear, and later on her jaw and cheek, lastly in the corner of her mouth.

She didn’t know what to do, averting her face seemed to be cruel, but he didn’t allow her space and time to get accustomed to everything. He must have felt her resistance, because he only kissed her shortly on the mouth and lifted his head.

“One more thing.”

“Huh?” she raised her questioning eyes at him.

“I wanted to watch the news when I got up and I couldn’t find a TV.”

Amy blinked at him rapidly, astonished with such a turn of the conversation.

“I don’t have TV,” she divulged at last.

It was his time to blink at her. “You don’t have a TV,” he repeated stupidly.

She nodded.

“But what about that cabinet in the living room standing in the corner opposite the couch?” he asked with a frown. “I thought that there should be a TV inside but it’s locked.”

“Nope, it’s just a cabinet,” Amy informed him. “Well, you can keep a TV there I think, but I keep various things there, and it’s not locked it’s just getting stuck and you have to pull a bit to get it open. Dad was going to repair it for me, but since I never bought a TV since I moved here it wasn’t a priority.”

Jake still gaped at her. “You have lived without a TV since you moved here,” he said slowly.

“Yes.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Are you an American?”

“I like watching films,” she acknowledged defensively, “I go to the movies often. Besides there’s the Internet nowadays. I spend some time logged into various forums and I read a lot. I don’t get bored. Ever,” she stressed.

He rose to his feet, regarded her for a moment only to eventually announce, “You’re odd. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know.” She scrambled out of bed and padded across the room. “Have a nice day at work,” she added, before disappearing in the bathroom.

 

Chapter Eight

 

Amy entered the condo, dropped all her bags on the floor in the hall, walked to the living room, and sank heavily onto the sofa. Her feet were literally killing her. She had no idea why she’d let Laura and Geri talk her into going to the mall after work.

Having plenty of clothes, she still had managed to buy some new ones this afternoon, knowing perfectly well that she didn’t really need them. Was she becoming a shopaholic? Perhaps she should join some therapy group? She felt guilty, even though the dress and the new winter coat she’d bought were lovely. She couldn’t really refuse herself when she’d seen them on the hanger in the shop. On the other hand, she had two other similar dresses in her closet, and her coat from the previous season was in excellent condition. The trip to Europe had taken most of her savings, and after today’s shopping, there was pitifully little left in her account.

Somehow, it hadn’t really got to her yet that she was married to a wealthy man. Jake had given her two brand new, shiny credit cards a few days ago. There was her new name on it, Amelia Barry, and it looked so strange to her. He’d said that they had been for household expenses and anything she needed or wanted to buy for herself. Understandable, she’d refused to accept them, and he’d gotten angry—much angrier than when she hadn’t wanted him to pick her up after work in the evenings. They’d quarreled. Jake accused her of being fucking independent, prideful, stubborn, and generally unreasonable. With all the dignity she’d been able to muster at that moment she’d asked him very politely not to use that kind of language in her presence.

He’d apologized and she’d accepted the credit cards, thinking that taking them hadn’t exactly meant that she had to ever charge anything on them. She’d simply thanked him and hidden them in one of the shelves in her vanity together with her passport, not intending to really use any of them. Jake had been pretty smug that she’d accepted
his money
at last, because for the rest of the evening he’d fallen into a strange macho mode, me male-the provider of the family. It had been very hard for her not to roll her eyes at his strutting around the condo, pushing his chest up, and even patting her occasionally on the butt. Men were silly, not to mention, this man seemed to have come from an earlier time—before women’s liberation.

She didn’t think she would ever come to use the credit cards. However, even after a little over a week of living with a man, she had to notice how much more she was spending now on food alone. From the times when she’d lived with her then teenage brother and father, she’d actually forgotten how much an adult man could eat.

Closing her eyes, she started summarizing her expenditures since her coming back from Europe. She wasn’t in debt yet, but close enough. She counted quickly that she would manage somehow, but spending on herself would have to come to end from now on. Besides, she had more clothes than she could wear for a year, and she didn’t really need any new ones.

The doorbell rang. When it rang again she rose lazily from the couch, thinking who it could be at this hour. Not Jake because he had his own key now. Besides he’d told her this morning that he’d be late. Perhaps one of the neighbors?

She opened the door and faced a tall woman in her late fifties.

“Mrs. Barry?” she whispered in disbelief, her eyes wide with surprise. She didn’t manage to say anything more, before she was trapped in a strong hug. The older woman alternated crying, and laughing.

“Amy! Oh, Amy! My dear girl!” Stacy Barry placed affectionate kisses on both of Amy’s cheeks, “You cannot imagine how happy I am with the news!” she exclaimed as she pinned Amy to her well-endowed bosom. “My son married at last,” she cried dreamily. “I thought that it would never happen. I’m so happy that Jake is married, and to such a wonderful girl like you.”

Amy forced a smile and tried to pull back from her mother-in-law’s fierce hug. Jake hadn’t mentioned to her that his mother intended to pay a visit. Actually, she was pretty sure that he hadn’t mentioned his mother at all since their conversation in his office that day when she’d stormed in there during his meeting.

“I ... thank you,” she stammered, “It’s so nice to see you. Please, come in.”

She stepped back and made a welcoming gesture with her hand. Jake’s mother had only a small carry-on bag with her.

Before she could react, she was back in the other woman’s embrace.

“My dear child, I almost lost any hope for my son to ever settle down and give me grandchildren.” Stacy’s expression turned teary again. “I was so afraid that he would be left all alone in the world after I am gone,” she said through tears and rested her face on Amy’s shoulder which was rather awkward because the same as her son she was much taller than Amy. “I’m so happy, and it’s all thanks to you, daughter.”

Amy’s eyes widened in panic as she automatically patted her mother in law’s back. The words—‘daughter’ and ‘grandchildren’, screamed in her mind. She wondered what Jack had told his mother about his marriage.

“You must be tired after the journey. Let’s go to the living room.” Amy made a special effort to give her voice a casual pleasant note. She managed to disentangle herself permanently from the older woman’s embrace. “Have you flown straight from Florida?”

“Yes, I caught the first flight this morning, after learning from Jake’s secretary that he’d married.” Stacy followed Amy into the living room.

“You mean that he didn’t tell you that we got married?” Amy asked unbelievably.

She hadn’t given much thought if Jake had informed his mother about their marriage or not. So many things had happened in the last weeks, so many changes and adjustments for her that she’d completely forgotten about Mrs. Barry’s existence, especially that Jake hadn’t mentioned her, too.

“Not a word,” the other woman confirmed as she sat on the couch. “But I’m not surprised, it’s so very much like him,” she remarked dryly.

Amy sat gingerly on the armrest of the couch. “That’s my fault too. I should’ve thought about calling you. The wedding was very quiet, just the two of us. My father wasn’t present either.”

Stacy patted her hand. “But I don’t blame you, my dear, not in the least. I know my son and his ways. He’s always been so secretive about everything, even as a little boy.”

“Would you like something to drink, or perhaps you’re hungry?” Amy asked nervously after a moment of silence.

The situation was awkward. She had no idea how she should talk with this woman, who was now her mother-in-law. Had she known about the visit she would have asked Geri and Laura for some tips on how to handle the visit from a mother of one’s husband, and mentally prepare herself for it.

Jake’s mother smiled at her steadily. “No, thank you I’m not really hungry. I had a snack on the plane and it wasn’t half as bad as usual.”

“So perhaps, a cup of tea, it’s quite chilly today,” Amy proposed politely.

“A cup of tea would be very nice, my dear,” Stacy conceded at last.

Amy smiled and excused herself to the kitchen, relieved to be alone if only for a few minutes. But her guest followed her shortly after.

“I know I’ve said it already, but I really can’t tell you how thrilled I am that Jake married at last and such a wonderful, decent girl like you,” the woman assured warmly.

Amy smiled again, not quite sure how to answer that. She concentrated on preparing tea, and cutting the chocolate cake into slender pieces. There wasn’t much left of it, though she’d made it only last evening as she wanted to try a new recipe recommended by Geri. Jake had eaten half of it after she’d taken it out of the oven. Now, only about one third was left, meaning he had helped himself this morning, as well, when she hadn’t been looking.

“And it’s so much like him, not to inform his own mother, the only family he has,” Stacy said, when they sat down at the table. “If I hadn’t phoned his office this morning, I wouldn’t have learned about it for God knows how long.”

“I’m sure Jake intended to tell you soon, but he’s been so busy lately, so much has been happening.” Amy tried to justify the situation as she poured the tea into the cups.

Stacy reached out and patted Amy’s hand one more time. “It’s nice you’re taking his side, child, but as I’ve said I know my son well, and I’m not surprised. You know he’s always been such a private person about everything, and hard to read. From the earliest years, he kept things to himself, and had problems with expressing his emotions and feelings. He has always been so closed up in himself.”

“Really?” Amy propped her chin on her fist. “I don’t know him so well, yet, but I think he’s rather articulate in telling what he wants,” Amy said dryly, before she realized how it could have sounded.

She felt her mother-in-law’s curious gaze, and couldn’t stop a blush from seeping into her cheeks. In an effort to change the subject she pushed the plate with cake towards her guest.

“I’m sorry, that there’s not more cake,” she said apologetically, “I baked it yesterday, but we’ve run out of it pretty quickly.”

“You mean my son ate all of it,” Stacy guessed knowingly. “He’s always had a sweet tooth.”

“Well, he has it now,” Amy noted with smile.

She didn’t really know what to say next or how to carry on a conversation, so she concentrated on her tea.

“Your place is lovely, my dear,” the woman said after a moment, “Like from an interior design magazine.”

Amy blushed at the praise. “I like decorating,” she admitted, and added eagerly. “We’re looking for a house now, well to be precise, I’m looking because Jake is too busy. I can’t really wait to start decorating it.”

“Oh, have you found anything interesting so far?”

Amy shook her head. “Not really. I’m quite picky I must say.”

“Oh, that is totally understandable. Buying a house is a very important decision.” Jake’s mother bit on a piece of cake, took a sip of tea, and asked the unavoidable question. “So tell me how all of this happened, the wedding, everything?”

Amy gave her a pale smile, thinking desperately on how much she should or rather could reveal. She didn’t want to lie, but saying to a mother that she’d married her son only for his money and position was rather crass. She decided on half the truth.

“We met again a year ago and renewed our acquaintance. Jake sponsored the new children’s wing in the library where I work.”

“You’re a librarian?”

Amy nodded, relieved to leave the subject of the wedding behind.

“I thought that Jake mentioned once to me that you studied law,” Stacy noted casually.

Amy glanced at the other woman in surprise. Jake had talked with his mother about her? It was unexpected.

“Yes, I was in law school for a year, but I decided it wasn’t really for me.” She took a sip of her tea, praying not to be asked more questions about it. “I really like my current work,” she stressed. “I don’t really think that I would enjoy working as a lawyer for some big corporation.”

“Well, I think that’s a lovely job, a librarian,” Stacy assured quickly.

Amy smiled too, glanced at the clock on the wall, and lifted herself slowly. “I’m afraid I need to start preparing dinner. Jake should be home in an hour or so, and he’ll be hungry.”

The other woman stood up as well. “Oh, dear, I’m interrupting you on your plans...” she started but Amy caught her hand impulsively.

“No, of course not! You must stay, please and have dinner with us, Mrs. Barry.”

“I’ll be happy to stay.” The woman smiled, her expression bright. “But on the condition that you call me Stacy, and I’d like to help.”

“No, you’re my guest,” Amy protested, and at the same added, “But I’ll be happy if you keep me company in the kitchen.”

Both women moved to the kitchen. Amy began making spaghetti sauce, while her mother-in-law settled herself comfortably on the high chair, by the kitchen island. They talked casually. Stacy asked if Jake always returned home so late and worked until almost seven o’clock. Amy answered that yes he did quite often. She felt instantly guilty because the fact that he worked so much was at least partially her fault. He had more work now as he ran not only his own companies but her father’s. Her last wish for him was to overwork himself, because of her own brother’s irresponsibility.

“He should cut down on the work time, having such a pretty, young wife like you,” Stacy noted with a warm smile, “and spend more time at home.”

“He takes his responsibilities very seriously. It’s really hard to convince him to work less.” Amy put the skillet on the fire.

“I can believe that,” Stacy agreed easily. “But I’m sure it’s in your power to make him stay at home more often.”

Amy only smiled at this, again not knowing how to answer it. Did every woman feel so awkward when talking with her mother-in-law? Or was it because this particular marriage was a sham, while that woman believed that her only son had at last found love and happiness, and was just starting a happy family?

Amy heard the door open and Jake’s deep voice followed. “Amy?”

“I’m in the kitchen,” she said loud enough to be heard, trying to give her voice a normal tone.

Her mother-in-law lifted her finger to her lips, shaking her head. Amy nodded and smiled.

A moment later Jake walked into the kitchen. He didn’t look around, but went straight to his wife, and drew her into his arms.

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