Chapter 6
On Monday morning two weeks later, I wake up happy.
I’ve been happy at the beginning of every day since I moved in with Mason.
I honestly never knew it was possible again. To open my eyes to a new morning excited about what might happen rather than dreading it.
It’s not like life has miraculously become easy or simple. I have to work hard, and no one in the villages of the Central Cities is free to make their own choices. We have to do and be and live the way we’re told. Always, always earn our keep. But still…
Living here is so much better than living with Lorraine and Aria.
Mason is already up and doing chores, so I dress quickly in a baggy sweater and a pair of trousers that used to be his mother’s. It’s not easy to stay clean while doing morning chores with Mason, so I don’t want to put on a dress until later when we head for the market.
As soon as I step outside, Bill is waiting there, sitting up straight and eager with his ball in his mouth.
“Hi, Bill,” I say with a smile, leaning over to give him some pets. Yesterday afternoon, Mason and I managed to bathe him, an effort he didn’t appreciate. But his fur is soft and much cleaner now, and he doesn’t hold a grudge. “Did you sleep okay in the barn? Are you happy about the new day too?”
He’s clearly as awed and gratified by his new situation as I am mine, and it touches my heart.
He pants around the ball in his mouth and gestures with his head several times until I hold my hand out for him to drop the slobbery ball into. I toss it as far as I can, and he bounds after it with a joyful yip.
I head toward the barn and find Mason milking a cow. “Good morning,” I tell him, grabbing my stool and pail so I can milk Genevieve, the most docile of the cows. “Am I late?”
“No, I woke up early. I would’ve been farther along, but Bill demanded some ball time before he let me escape.”
I giggle. “He let me go at one throw. I guess that’s why. Did you sleep okay? Why did you wake up early?”
“Dunno. Just couldn’t sleep any longer.”
Something about his tone and avoidance of my eyes makes me wonder if he’s telling me the truth, but I’m in no position to demand he share his thoughts with me.
He’s not a bad companion. He’s not very talkative or open, but he’s generally polite.
And he’s usually considerate, thinking about my needs as well as his own.
As husbands go, he’s a good one, and I’m not about to mess things up between us by becoming pushy or demanding about how many of his thoughts he shares with me.
I focus on Genevieve and Vera after her. Then I go to feed the chickens and collect the morning’s eggs.
Mason doesn’t trust me yet with the other cows since they’re occasionally temperamental or not as gentle. But at least I can help with some of the morning chores.
When I’m done, I wash up and make eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast. Mason polishes off his plate as usual and then finishes mine when I pass it to him after I’m full.
Mason earns more credits than Lorraine does, since everyone in the village needs milk, butter, and cheese. So I’ve been able to buy any food I’ve wanted for our meals for these two weeks.
Monthly credits can’t be saved beyond the month they’re given, so I’ve taken the credits that Mason designated for food and divided them up for the rest of the month.
We’re going to be able to eat really well, at least by the standards I’m used to.
He also said I could use any extra credits we have left this month to buy a new pair of work boots since mine are so old the soles are almost worn through.
With that and what Annabelle gave me, it’s felt like I’ve been living in the lap of luxury lately.
After breakfast, I wash up and change into my good day dress, braiding my hair and feeling prettier than normal. My cheeks and lips are pink, and my eyes look very blue.
Maybe it’s petty, but I’m excited to go to the market and sit behind Mason’s stall instead of fetching and carrying for Lorraine and Aria. And I want the village to see that I’m more than a drudge.
I feel almost special, and I can’t remember if I’ve ever felt that way before.
Even as a child, Annabelle’s prettiness, courage, and bright spirit always drew most of the attention. I never resented it because I believed—and still do—that she deserves to shine.
But maybe in a very small way, I can shine too.
Mason isn’t excited about the trip to the market like I am. In fact, he’s in a grumpy mood about it. As we’re preparing to go, he responds to my questions with only wordless grunts, and he seems impatient with my attempts to help him load his cart.
Maybe he doesn’t like market days. I didn’t notice it last week, but I definitely do today. Hopefully that’s all it is. I don’t think I’ve done anything to annoy him, but I search my memory for any slipup as we walk toward the village square.
It’s the chilliest day yet this autumn, and I had to put on a sweater over my pretty dress. So the combination of Mason’s mood and feeling rather frumpy in the oversized sweater dims my excitement a bit.
“Maybe,” I say as we approach the square, “if I can learn how to do everything, then you won’t always have to come to market days.”
He blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“I just seems like you don’t like them. So I thought I could do them once I learn everything. That way you could stay and work on the farm.”
“What makes you think I don’t like market days?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” I swallow hard. “It just seems like… like you don’t.” I’m not brave enough to admit he’s been grumpy with me.
“I don’t mind ’em.”
“Okay. Then why…”
He seems to understand even though I don’t finish the question. “Sorry if I’m in a mood.”
“Is everything okay? It’s not… it’s not me, is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Course not. It’s not you. Just… haven’t been sleeping good.”
“Why not? Is there something I can do to help?”
For just a second, I see something in his face that makes me believe there is something I can do, but it disappears before I can fully process it, and then I wonder if I imagined it. “It’s nothing. You didn’t do anything.”
“Okay. Because things have been good for me, and I want them to be good for you too.”
“They’re good,” he mumbles, not meeting my eyes now. “They’re real good.”
Market is fine once we get there. Last week, Mason showed me how he sets things up and how to process the purchases, so I’m comfortable helping him today. And half the village stops by to greet us and find out any gossip we’re willing to share.
Lorraine comes over once and pretends to be gracious as she asks how we’re doing and offers assistance in the most condescending way possible.
Aria doesn’t say a word, and whenever I glance in her direction, she cuts her gaze away quickly to pretend she hasn’t been watching.
I’m not sure what I would have expected, but it’s obvious they’ll never change. There’s no satisfaction or vindication I can ever really get in regard to them.
It’s enough that I managed to escape and that they didn’t get what they wanted from Mason. Or from me.
I packed sandwiches for lunch, and the day passes quickly. Before I know it, we’re on our way home.
Bill is waiting for us, eager first for his dinner and then for some ball throwing.
He still does his own thing most of the day, roaming through the surrounding area and investigating every inch of the farm.
But as each day passes, he wants a little more time with us, and his growing affection makes me glad.
Mason throws his ball while I make dinner, and then I sit on the porch steps and talk to and pet him while Mason does his evening chores.
Mason still isn’t in his normal mood. I’m not quite sure what the problem is since I believe him when he says he’s not annoyed with me. But when it’s dark, he doesn’t sit in the living room with me like normal.
He says he’s tired and goes to his bedroom, closing the door behind him before I can ask him again if anything is wrong.
The next morning he’s up early again. Very early. It’s still pitch-black when I hear the sounds of him in the bathroom, washing up and getting dressed.
I lie in bed for a few minutes, frowning up at the ceiling and wondering if he’ll ever tell me.
After a while, I’ve imagined so many possible scenarios that I have no choice but to get up and dressed too.
Bill is hanging around the porch when I walk outside, and he snuffles around me like he’s anxious about something. I pet and soothe him softly, but I don’t see a light in the barn. It’s odd.
Where could Mason be? What is he doing?
I go to the barn with Bill at my heels. No Mason.
I check the chicken coop, but there’s no one there but the chickens.
Bill and I are walking around to the far side of the barn to check the pasture when Mason suddenly appears in front of me.
It’s so unexpected that I jump.
“Shit!” he exclaims, obviously just as surprised as I am. “Whatcha doing out here so early?”
“I just woke up.” It feels like I’ve done something wrong, but I haven’t. I know I haven’t. “So I decided to get up. But then I couldn’t find you. What were you doing back there?”
“Nothing. Why were you looking for me?”
I stare at him, surprised and rather annoyed by his grumpy tone. “Because I didn’t know where you were. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. How many times do I got to tell you that?”
I have to bite back my instinctive response, which is to snap his head off.
I’m not a fool. Something is going on with him.
But pushing further might make him angry, and I don’t want him to be mad at me.
I don’t want him to regret taking me as his wife.
“Okay. Sorry if I startled you. I was just confused.” I pitch my tone as conciliatory as I can. “Should we just get started on the chores since we’re both up?”
The day progresses without any conflict because I bite back any response that would lead to it. And Mason appears to be trying to contain his grumpiness, but it’s not an entirely successful attempt.