18. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
L enore couldn’t stop staring at the gold band that now adorned her ring finger. She was a married woman, and to John Hadley! Their wedding day had been long, with the ceremony at ten in the morning and the reception in the afternoon at her parents’ house. By the time the sun set, Lenore’s feet were killing her. She couldn’t wait to take off her shoes. What she wanted to do more than anything was to go to her new home with John and be alone with him. But guests, mostly cronies of her father, still lingered even though it was close to ten o’clock at night. They’d settled in the parlor and more coffee and cigars came out. The wives were in the dining room, seated in the chairs along the walls as tea and cakes and cookies were brought out from the kitchen. Lenore began to wilt. She didn’t think she could do another round.
“Are you all right?” John said beside her .
“I am. It’s been a marvelous day, but I’m ready to go,” she said.
“Me too. I’d like to be alone with you,” he whispered.
She blushed at that, feeling the welcome heat that rose up within her. She wanted to be alone with him, too.
Her mother approached and spoke to them quietly. “It’s fine if you want to leave.”
“Are you sure, Mother? We don’t want to be rude,” Lenore said.
“No, don’t worry about that,” her mother said, looking over her shoulder. “They’ve gotten comfortable and will probably be here all night.”
Lenore hesitated.
Mrs. Wainwright smiled and patted her arm. “Come on, now, and say your goodbyes.” She guided the new couple from room to room to bid their farewells, cutting short any lengthy goodbyes, and finally saw them to the front door. She handed Lenore a package wrapped in a linen napkin.
“It’s two pieces of wedding cake. It’ll be nice with a cup of tea later.” She hugged them both and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I’m very happy for you, Lenore.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Good night, Mrs. Wainwright, and thank you for a wonderful day,” John said.
After much debate, Lenore and John had decided to hold off on purchasing a home, deciding that the small one-bedroom house he’d been renting on Lincoln Street would do for now. In the run-up to the wedding, Lenore had been adding her own touches to the place, putting her own stamp on things. There was a vase of flowers on a table in the parlor and a floral linen tablecloth covering the small table in the kitchen. When they returned from their honeymoon, Lenore would drive John’s car over to her parents’ house to collect all their wedding gifts. There was no money to take an extended trip, but they were leaving in the morning to spend one night in Buffalo and a second night in Niagara Falls before returning to Lavender Bay. She was excited about spending all this time alone with John.
When they reached the small front porch, John unlocked the door. As a policeman, he was always careful about locking things: his house, the car, the little shed in the backyard. When she told him they never locked their doors at home, he’d been appalled.
Without thinking, she went to step inside, but John held her back with one arm. “Mrs. Hadley, I intend to carry you over that threshold.” Before she could say anything, he scooped her up and carried her through the front door, setting her down inside the small parlor.
Laughing, she kicked off her shoes and set them neatly against the wall. She stretched her toes, relieved to have those shoes off. They looked pretty but were very uncomfortable.
John turned on the lamp that hung over the kitchen table. It was now their kitchen table.
The kitchen was small, with a sink and a Hoosier cabinet. The table where they’d eat their meals was only big enough for two chairs, and that was fine with Lenore. The walls were a mint green, and the cast-iron radiator had been painted to match. The linoleum was old and pitted and scarred in places, but Lenore didn’t care. It was their first home, and she adored it.
The glow from the lamp lit up her husband’s features. As long as they lived, she would never get tired of referring to him as her husband. Her husband. Two simple words that brought so much joy. She smiled.
“Happy?” he asked.
She nodded. “Very.”
“You’re very beautiful, Lenore,” he said quietly.
She blushed, unused to that specific compliment.
In two strides, he was at her side, wrapping an arm around her, lowering his face to hers. She slid her arm around his waist, eager to feel his touch. When he kissed her, all sorts of little sparks lit up her body. She pulled away to lay her cheek against his, loving the sandpapery feel of his stubble against her smooth skin.
She was anxious about their wedding night, and she wasn’t. She was in possession of general knowledge but not specifics. It certainly wasn’t the type of conversation you could have with anyone. Her mother would faint if she’d brought it up. Hilda would declare it not fit for consumption. She hadn’t even talked about it with John. She’d been raised too much of a lady to open that topic of discussion.
He started kissing her again. The pressure of his kisses increased, warm, needy, insistent. And Lenore’s body responded in kind. He held her in his embrace, his big strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Her curves fit perfectly against the hard, strong planes of his body. She listened to her body, knowing it needed something more. Taking him by the hand, she started to lead him toward the bedroom.
But John laughed and pulled her back to him. “Someone is eager.”
Heat stained her cheeks, and she lowered her head, embarrassed. He must think she was a brazen hussy.
He reached out and lifted her chin with his finger, his eyes locking on hers. All humor was gone. He was all seriousness.
“We’re not doing that here, Lenore. We’re not going to be embarrassed or ashamed about anything that happens between us in the bedroom. Right?” Then with a wink, he added, “Or even what happens outside of the bedroom.”
With a relieved smile, she nodded, her humiliation fading away.
He placed his hands on either side of her face and said gently, “Do you believe me when I tell you that our marriage bed will be wonderful and beautiful”—he grinned—“and a lot of fun?”
“Yes.” She knew he would never lie about any of those things. Or about anything, for that matter.
He kissed her again quickly and pulled away, smiling. He slid his hand into hers. “Now, Mrs. Hadley, do with me what you will. Direct my path!”
She giggled and pulled him with her to the bedroom, which was located off the kitchen. John turned on the small lamp on the dresser, and it cast a pale golden light over the room. He removed his suitcoat and laid it over a chair in the corner. As he headed toward Lenore, smiling, he began to loosen his tie.
Lenore’s breath hitched in her throat as he began to peel his clothes off. Slowly, she slipped her dress over her head.
Later, they lay side by side in the bed, and she realized she must have dozed off, because the pearly gray light of dawn filtered through the curtains.
“I’m hungry,” she announced.
Laughter erupted from John, who rolled over and caressed her bare shoulder. He looked behind him at the bedside clock, which ticked along nicely. “It’s only four in the morning.”
“Did you want breakfast then?” she asked. Her stomach rumbled.
She went to flip the bedsheet back, but he laid his hand on her arm. “Wait a minute, Lenore.”
She looked at him, expectant.
“Are you . . . all right?” he asked. There was some hesitation in his voice.
She kissed the tip of her finger and traced it over the scar that ran along the side of his face. He’d been a tender and considerate lover. It had hurt, but he’d promised her it would be better the next time. And she believed him.
“Am I all right? I’m perfect. I’m wonderful,” she said, lifting her head up to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “But most of all, John, I’m hungry.”
He laughed again and kissed her shoulder.
“How about some tea and wedding cake?” she asked. She’d cook breakfast later.
“Sounds perfect.”
She pulled on her robe, used the bathroom quickly to wash her face, and went into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. She set the table properly and by the time John emerged from the bedroom, pulling his suspenders up over his sleeveless T-shirt, she had laid out the two slices of cake on plates and was in the process of making tea for them both .
“I could get used to this every day,” he said, looking over the table. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
“And I could get used to that every day,” she said.
The wedding cake tasted better than she could have imagined. It was a simple yellow cake with strawberry-preserve filling and a buttercream frosting. They washed it down with their tea, and when they were finished, she carried the dishes to the sink and turned the faucet on. But John leaned over and turned off the tap.
“Come on back to bed with me,” he said. “We don’t have to get up for another few hours.”
She didn’t have to be convinced. She left the dirty dishes in the sink and the teapot on the table, and joined her husband back in the bedroom.
Their honeymoon flew by. John had rented them a room at the Lenox Hotel in Buffalo. They walked around the city and took in the sights, like the brand-new art deco city hall. After dinner, they went to the Moonglow, a nightclub on Michigan Street, and Lenore thought she’d never danced so much in her life. There was even a photographer who snapped their picture in a booth, which John paid for at the end of the evening. It was framed in a pale green paper holder that read The Moonglow, Michigan Avenue, Buffalo, New York .
The following morning, they made their way to Niagara Falls. She hadn’t been there since she was a young girl, and it was as impressive as it had been back then. Appropriately, the American side of the falls was called the Bridal Veil. It was lovely. But when it was time to go, she was happy to head back to Lavender Bay and start her life as Mrs. John Hadley.