Chapter 15
Ann fiddled with her two rings as Mrs. O’Donnell bustled around, serving a lavish luncheon.
Her mind spiraled with endless questions, none of which she could stand to think about.
She and Junior were safe. They had a roof over their heads, a warm and welcoming family.
She was married to a good and kind man who would be an excellent father to Junior. Did anything else matter?
But what would it be like to be married to Bill?
Would her heart ever heal? Would she ever be able to return the affection he clearly had for her?
She didn’t want to break his heart, especially not now.
He’d been so generous and selfless to marry her, and she wished with all her heart she was ready to give as much as he had given her.
Those thoughts were too painful to examine, though, so she turned her mind to the practical.
Where would they live? She’d never seen his apartment, but he’d told her it was even smaller than her little house.
How would they fit? Would they find somewhere new?
Did he have the money for that? How would he feel about her working?
How often would his job keep him away? And then there was the more immediate question of what he would expect on their wedding night.
She felt numb, and she barely tasted the food she ate.
Everything familiar was gone. Every vestige of Roger.
She didn’t even have a picture of him now.
She would have to ask her aunt for the wedding photo she gave her so that she would have at least one to show Junior.
She had nothing of her mother’s either. Her piano was gone. Her book of Gilbert and Sullivan.
“Ann?” The voice barely registered. “Ann?” A hand touched her arm.
“Yes?”
“Would you like some cake? It’s strawberry.” Bill. His face was full of kind concern.
“Yes, please,” she said quietly.
He put a plate in front of her with white cake with a delicate pink frosting. There were strawberry slices between the layers. She took a bite and felt a bit of life return.
“Thank you.” She attempted a smile.
He kissed her cheek. “Is there anything you need that you didn’t buy earlier?”
Yes. Everything. “No.”
“After lunch, I’d like to take you to my place. It’s small, but it will have to do for now. We can start shopping for a house as soon as you’re ready. As you know, I already have the money saved.”
“I wish we didn’t have to spend your savings, but I suppose there’s no choice.
” Of course, they had to buy a house. The three of them cooped up in a bachelor’s apartment wouldn’t work for long.
She and Roger dreamed of buying their own house somewhere quiet after the war.
How odd it was to be fulfilling that dream with someone else.
“Oh. We’ll need to stop at the furniture store and buy a crib for Junior.”
At that she smiled a genuine smile. Such an attentive papa already. “Thank you for thinking of that. I hadn’t even thought about furniture. How unlike me! I’m usually relentlessly practical.” She stopped herself before finishing the sentence with “as Roger used to say.”
“My dear,” said Mrs. O’Donnell, “let me take Junior for a few hours while you and Bill are out. You can come back for dinner this evening. I promise to make it special.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Donnell. That’s very kind.” It would be nice to have some time alone with Bill to talk things through.
They finished their meal and went to the furniture store to buy a crib. Bill loaded it into the back of his car and drove to her new home.
It turned out he lived above a barbershop, occupying half of the third floor.
The entire apartment was one room with a bed at one end and a kitchenette at the other.
The bed was just barely large enough for two, unlike the generously sized bed she had shared with Roger.
Despite the small space, everything was neat and tidy.
It was good to know he wasn’t a slob she would eternally be picking up after.
This apartment was very small, though. They would need to move as soon as was convenient.
She and Junior were sure to drive Bill crazy in such a compact space.
Bill hauled the crib up the stairs single-handed and asked her where to put it.
“Next to the bed,” she said. “He doesn’t sleep through the night yet, and I’ll need to feed him in the middle of the night. I’m afraid your sleep is about to become a lot less restful.”
He waved it away. “I can catch up on sleep when I’m out of town. Besides, it’s a small price to pay to have you here with me.”
He sat down on the bed beside her. “I promise you this is temporary. I have nine thousand dollars saved up. For that much, we could buy any house in Mineola.”
Nine thousand dollars was a very tidy sum. He must have been thrifty, and he must have a healthy salary. She wished she wasn’t delaying his dream, but it was ever so sweet of him to be so selfless.
He took her hand and kissed it. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. She could tell he wanted to kiss her lips and was hesitating. Didn’t he realize they were married now? He could kiss her anytime he wanted. And more. Would he want that now? She had assumed they would wait until tonight.
She leaned her face towards him and brushed his lips with her own.
He leaned in for more. His tongue parted her lips and touched her own.
He seemed hungry for her but so restrained, so careful.
It was different than kissing Roger. Bill was slow and tender where Roger was passionate and demanding.
She liked the slower approach. With Bill, she opened like a flower seeking the sun. It had never been like that before.
A little moan escaped her as their kiss continued, and his hands stroked her back, pressing her close. She could feel the magnetic tug of his closeness, the heat that his touch drew forth. After several minutes of this decadent treatment, he pulled back.
“You don’t have to stop.”
“Yes, I do. I promised myself I wouldn’t push you until you were ready.”
I am ready. The thought surprised her, but the wetness and heat between her legs was undeniable. Still, he was right. She wasn’t in the right mindset for it. Even as her body craved his, she appreciated that he didn’t push.
“For now, it’s enough to kiss you and feel your heart beating against my chest. The rest can come when it comes.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
For all her reluctance, a part of her wished he hadn’t stopped.
For a moment her mind wandered to what it would have been like if he hadn’t, and something deep within her clenched with longing.
The embarrassing truth was that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her.
Was it wrong for her to seek comfort with him after everything? He was her husband.
From a practical standpoint, it made sense too.
The intimacy would ease the strangeness of their marriage.
She didn’t want to wait and wonder when his patience might run out.
If he was waiting for her heart to heal, then the right time might never come.
She didn’t want to put things off so long he resented her. She needed him.
But he had stopped. Maybe he wasn’t ready either. After all, this had been so sudden. Did he even want to be married? It was too late to ask such questions, so she cleared her throat and stood up.
They busied themselves unloading the morning’s purchases from bags.
Soon, she had her three new dresses hanging in the closet.
After some agonizing, she had decided not to purchase black.
After all, she now had a husband who was very much alive.
But she selected dark colors and conservative cuts.
She had one in dark green, one in navy blue, and one in a deep plum.
They would serve her well once she started teaching.
Bill cleared two drawers in his dresser, where she put Junior’s clothes and diapers, as well as her own stockings, undergarments, and nightgowns.
Mrs. O’Donnell had tried to talk her into buying at least one nightgown that was frilly and revealing, but she had held firm: one plain, short-sleeved cotton one for warm weather and a long-sleeved flannel one for when the weather turned.
On top of the chest of drawers, she placed her wedding bouquet.
She had to put it in a coffee tin for lack of a vase, but it beautified and freshened the space.
She explored the kitchenette. There was a little stovetop but no oven. His cupboards were full of canned foods, and his icebox had a bit of milk, some butter, some bacon, two pork chops, and some beer.
“What do you eat? There’s practically nothing here to make a meal with.”
“I eat at my parents’ a lot. And when I eat here, I usually open a can of something, heat it on the stove, and cook myself a piece of meat. I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid.”
There was at least one area where she could pay him back for his extreme generosity. “From now on, you’ll be eating better.”
“Speaking of eating, we should get back to my parents’ house. It’s nearly dinnertime.”
She took Bill’s arm as they headed back to the O’Donnells’, appreciating the steady support he offered. When they arrived, she immediately took Junior into the bedroom to feed him.
Her breasts ached with milk, and Junior clawed frantically at her chest when she took him from Mrs. O’Donnell.
As she sat in the dim privacy of the O’Donnells’ bedroom, her mind wandered to the night ahead.
There was no privacy in Bill’s apartment.
She was going to have to get over her reticence to breastfeed in front of him quickly because Junior demanded a meal every four hours or so. There would be no avoiding it tonight.
But she wasn’t ready to think about that yet. She’d deal with it when the time came. Maybe he was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t notice. She could only hope.