Chapter 22
CLAIRE
One Saturday in May, Ethan and I stood in a kitchen spacious enough for two dining tables. Neither of us spoke first.
Ethan switched it on, then off, and tilted his head to look outside for a while.
“Say it,” I told him.
He turned to me. “I don’t really like it here.”
“The kitchen?”
“Yes. I want to see the sun when I walk in here in the morning. Even if it’s only for a little while.”
I set my canvas bag on the counter and looked out too.
The agent waited at the door without hurrying us.
I really liked how close the house was. The stairs were wide, and Nora’s room could face the street.
But I pictured Ethan standing in this shadow with his cup and knew it was something that would matter to him.
“Let’s see the next one,” I said. “The cupboards here are big, but I don’t have that many pots yet.”
“We could buy pots.”
“And invite them to admire that wall?”
He picked up my bag with a laugh. “Let’s go.”
We’d been house hunting since our March trip, comparing what we liked, remembering problems afterward, and going out again.
Nora, newly ten, had stayed home with her caregiver to sort birthday presents and finish a model over a video call with a friend. Her school and friends would stay the same. She’d only asked us to photograph any room we thought she’d like.
Outside the car window, the trees were thick with leaves.
I lowered the window a little and told Ethan my long-term schedule would stay fixed from next month, and I’d been confirmed as the person responsible for the book group.
A colleague had asked if I wanted to keep Saturday mornings free.
I’d chosen every other week, leaving room for plans of my own.
“What are you going to do with those free Saturdays?” he asked.
“Sometimes go out with friends. Sometimes sleep.”
“Can I sign up for the one that isn’t sleeping?”
“Depends whether my friends want to bring you.”
He smiled at the road ahead. “I could also ask you out, just the two of us.”
“That has a better chance of success.”
The next house was in the neighborhood I knew, two intersections in from the main road.
On the pale porch were two sun-faded marks, as if large flowerpots had once stood there.
When the agent opened the door, the first thing I saw was sunlight on the living room floor.
Then I caught the faint scent of wood in the empty house.
Ethan didn’t go straight inside. He bent to feel the loose handle by the door and asked the agent if it could be repaired. Only after getting a yes did he step aside to let me go first.
The smaller kitchen faced east, its window overlooking a backyard. Sunlight lay on the floor. There was room for a table beneath the window, where I could see leaves rising above the fence.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
He nodded, making no effort to hide it. “Very much.”
“I don’t like this countertop.”
He glanced down. The dark gray surface glittered faintly and looked a little cold.
“We can replace it. Do you like lighter colors?”
“Not too white. I’d feel every day as if I’d left flour on it.”
He nodded. Countertops could wait until we’d chosen the house. We tried the space beneath the window and found an oval table would leave the backyard door clear.
He turned sideways to let me pass, his hand lightly touching my waist.
“Every time I pass you?” I asked.
“Depends how many times you pass me in a day.”
I turned back and kissed him, then took advantage of the agent still being on a call in the living room and pulled him toward the little room next door.
It faced the side yard and had a door that closed properly.
There was no radiator on the wall by the window, so bookshelves could go there.
The opposite wall had enough space for a desk.
I went in and pushed the window open. Nearby, someone was cutting the grass, the sound coming and going beyond the hedge.
The blue high-backed chair would fit here too. Almost at once, I could gauge the space it would take up. In the apartment, the afternoon sun warmed it before I got home. Sometimes, after work, I sat in it and read a few pages of a borrowed book before I’d even taken off my shoes.
I would miss that apartment. I would miss the relief of finally sitting on the edge of the bed after putting my own things in place for the first time, and Nora running over from the courtyard side to show me what she’d drawn.
It had room for the life the two of us shared. Even now, I liked going back.
My fingers rested on the window frame. I didn’t hurry to turn around.
Ethan stopped at the door. “What would you put here?”
“Bookshelves. And my chair.”
“The blue one?”
I nodded. He looked at where the window was and came to stand beside me.
“If the desk goes here, you can look outside while you’re sitting.”
“I’ll close the door when I’m reading in here.”
“I’ll knock. Or wait until you come out.” He paused, then added, “If all I want to ask is where the cups are, I can find them myself.”
I laughed and turned to him. He was already studying the wall, as though estimating whether my existing bookshelves could move here in one piece. Suddenly, I wanted to go home with him tonight, do our own things for a while after dinner, then meet in the kitchen and ask if he wanted water.
When he turned, I was still looking at him.
“Ethan, let’s get married.”
He didn’t move. After a moment, he asked quietly, “What did you say?”
I stepped closer and took his hand. “I want to marry you. I want this home, and I want the life I have with you now.”
He said my name, but nothing followed. The look on his face made my eyes grow hot and made me want to laugh. I held his hand tightly, waiting for him to cover it with his other one.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I do. I very much do.”
“You sound as if you’re answering the question at the wedding early.”
“You can ask me again then. I’ll give you the same answer.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace. I caught the familiar scent of his shirt, my cheek against his shoulder. Outside, the sound of grass cutting stopped, and someone called someone else’s name. I closed my eyes in his arms for a while, until he kissed my hair.
“I didn’t expect to hear that today,” he said.
“I meant to wait until we’d seen everything.”
“We can finish looking.”
He still hadn’t let go. Laughing, I patted his back. Only then did he draw away a little, cradle my face in his hands, and kiss me intently. I caught his shirt and let the kiss linger a little longer.
On the stairs, we both stopped to let the other pass and only ended up crowding each other. Ethan laughed and turned sideways. Holding the banister, I went ahead, my ears still warm.
One upstairs bedroom would suit Nora well.
Its window looked onto the big tree beside the street, and I took a photo.
Another small room could fit Ethan’s desk.
He stood by the window to try out the position and told me the afternoon light wouldn’t fall straight on his screen.
Then he looked at me again, his mouth still curved in a smile.
“You’ve already said ‘I do,’” I reminded him.
“I know.”
“You don’t have to check I’m still here every time we go through a door either.”
He held out his hand. “That’s a little difficult just now.”
Downstairs, we measured for his old leather sofa. Facing the fireplace, it blocked the path to the kitchen. He wanted to keep it, so we tried the long wall instead. I walked through the space to check.
“That works. You won’t have to tuck your legs up.”
“And you’ll have somewhere to lean.”
I slipped my arm through his.
On the porch, I checked the walk to the library. Ten minutes longer than from the first house, past my favorite café. We could try it that afternoon. I wanted this house.
He told the agent we’d chosen it and that we would arrange another time for the next steps.
After the agent left, we didn’t get into the car right away.
Sunlight fell beside the steps. I put my hand in Ethan’s and said I wanted only a few people at the wedding, somewhere we could hear each other speak.
“Outdoors?” he asked.
“Somewhere with shade from trees. And don’t make everyone wait too long for the food.”
“What else?”
I wanted our friends beside us at dinner. Ethan suggested tables close together so everyone could move around, and I agreed.
“And you,” I told him. “Wear whatever you like, as long as you’re comfortable.”
He smiled and kissed my hand. “I can do that. I’d like music, so I can dance with you.”
I agreed, then told him he’d have to get the beat right first. Very solemnly, he asked me to leave him some practice time. Every night, preferably.
We settled on June. Once the house was ready, we’d have a small wedding.
As we left, I looked back at the porch and the kitchen window. Ethan waited beside the car. I went over and took his hand.
“I want to live here. With you.”