Chapter 15 Mona
MONA
I wake up before Douglas on Saturday morning.
It’s one of the few times it’s happened in the time I’ve been sleeping with him.
It’s still early. Not even five thirty. I’m not actually sure why I woke up, but it’s probably because nerves are churning around in my gut.
Everything is going to change today, and I don’t really want it to.
Part of me wants to live like this—Douglas and me, alone in the world—for the rest of my life.
It’s silly. Impossible in every way. Not only can life not be lived like that, but it also isn’t actually what I want. I want the life I’ve already built for myself, made up of friends and family and work and productivity and whatever good I’m capable of contributing to this world.
But I want all that and also the intimacy I’ve shared with Douglas for these two weeks.
That’s nothing but the dream of a foolish, naive girl, so I’ve been trying not to indulge it. If I was smart, I might have started getting distance as soon as I realized these thoughts were percolating in my mind.
But who among us can always be smart?
Not me.
I have a very short time left with him, and I’m not going to destroy it in a futile attempt to stay safe.
The distance will come anyway.
It might even come today.
Douglas isn’t going to be the man he’s been with me when he’s surrounded by a lot of people. I already know that much.
Even when Colleen and Roy arrived yesterday, he pulled back. Quieted. Retreated from me internally.
Going to his room after bedtime was terrifying because I wasn’t sure what he would do. Colleen and Roy have their own cottage on the grounds, but still… They’re here, and maybe he won’t want to spend the night with me when someone else might know.
But he was neither surprised nor reluctant when he opened the door. Our lovemaking last night might have been nothing but missionary under the covers, but it was slow and tender and incredibly satisfying.
I loved it.
As much as I loved falling asleep in his arms afterward.
Sappy but true.
The sappiness returns with a vengeance as I lie on my side and watch him sleeping. There’s not much light in the room, but my eyes have adjusted enough to see that his are closed and his hair has flopped over messily across his forehead. One arm is outside the covers, lightly holding the duvet.
He’s twenty years older than me, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Not in any significant way. We’ve both had different experiences. We both have different skills and gifts. We make each other better.
I don’t understand why he won’t at least leave a small crack open for more. For a future.
I want it so much.
If I’m honest, I do understand. This month has been nothing but a holiday from his life.
And holidays never last forever.
“What’s the matter, my love,” he mumbles, startling me so much I jerk. He hasn’t even opened his eyes.
“Nothing. Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”
“I just woke up.” He opens his eyes now and turns over onto his side to face me. “And the first thing I felt was a wave of distress coming from you.”
“You couldn’t possibly have felt that. I wasn’t distressed.”
Unnerving. He’s always been incredibly unnerving.
“Weren’t you?” He’s peering at me closely now, his rumpled eyebrows pulled together into a frown. “You look all right.”
“I am all right.” I consider my words longer than normal until I can answer him truthfully but not reveal my whole heart. “If you must know, I was thinking how quickly the month is disappearing. It’s… bittersweet.”
“Yes. It is.” He reaches over to gently brush my hair back from my cheek and neatly tuck it behind my ear. “I keep brooding about that fact too.”
It takes every ounce of my self-control to hold back a tart comeback about there’s an easy way to remedy this reality.
But I don’t want to spoil the mood between us. I don’t want to push in a way that causes him to withdraw.
If this time is all we’re ever going to get, I’m going to make sure all of it is good.
“I guess holidays always come to an end,” he murmurs thickly.
I give a rueful snort. At his curious look, I explain, “I had that exact same thought right before you woke up. It must have been the source of the distressed vibes you were picking up.”
He smiles poignantly and pulls me into a soft hug.
We lie like that, silently comforting each other, until six, when it’s past time for his morning run.
* * *
Douglas’s sister, Greer, is an attractive woman in her late forties. She comes across as very smart, but she’s a successful lawyer and much more outgoing than he is.
She greets me in a friendly manner, asking all about my work and the kinds of jobs I’ve taken on as Douglas and I help her and her family up to their rooms.
Her husband is the quiet one, a few inches shorter than her and with a professorial look although he’s a financial advisor. Three of their children are with them, one a senior in high school and two in college.
The oldest girl is married, and she and her family are arriving on their own.
The kids appear smart and well-mannered although their attention unsurprisingly is more on their phones than anything else.
I’m relieved none of them are remotely snotty, as some people who come from money are, and Greer is obviously as intrigued and impressed by my business as Douglas himself was.
I clearly won’t be treated as the help.
Douglas’s niece arrives with her husband and two children (both under two). She’s incredibly sweet and appreciative. I like her immediately.
The stray cousin is a single man in his forties. He’s got a laid-back, flirtatious manner, but I don’t get the sense that he’ll be a problem. Douglas and Greer’s elderly aunt, Augusta, is in her eighties, frail but still razor-sharp.
She launches into an immediate inquisition about Douglas’s lack of a social life, which he accepts with full good humor.
When she catches him looking at me with silent laughter, her manner changes immediately. She starts studying me with pleased curiosity, like she suspects something has been going on between us.
She’s not wrong. And at least she’s not offended or indignant about our obvious mismatch.
The first two sets of family friends who arrive are fine. Not quite as nice as Douglas’s family—they clearly see me as socially beneath them—but there’s nothing rude or mean about the way they treat me.
There’s only one more person expected, and I’m relieved. This will be fine. It won’t be the same as it was with me and Douglas alone, but he obviously loves these people, and they love him.
I’m glad he has a good family, and I’m glad to learn more about him through them.
Everyone has gathered in the library before dinner.
I’m passing around drinks and small bites while Colleen and Roy are finishing dinner down in the kitchen.
Greer chats with me for a few minutes, and Aunt Augusta queries me about my family, my relationship status, and my plans for the future.
Otherwise, I circulate the room and try to stay out of the way.
Douglas is in his chair with a glass of scotch, having an in-depth conversation with one of his nieces and his nephew-in-law about Kierkegaard.
He’s obviously having a grand time, and it makes me happy.
When the doorbell rings, I give a little jump, set down my tray, and run down to let in the one remaining guest.
One more family friend. A woman on her own. Blakely Iverson is her name.
I’m out of breath as I reach the front door, waving at Roy who is on his way out of the kitchen, a wooden spoon in hand, to make sure someone answers the doorbell.
When I swing open the big door, I’m greeted by the sight of a beautiful, stylish, frowning woman.
Gorgeous. She is genuinely gorgeous. Sleek brown hair in a perfectly cut bob.
Perfect tanned skin. Striking green eyes.
The slim, graceful body of a model. And a coat, boots, and elegant day dress that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
She looks ageless in that way women have when they’ve invested a lot in their appearance, but I’d guess she’s maybe ten years older than me.
A much more appropriate age for Douglas.
Yes, sadly, that is my first thought.
I take in her presence in only a few seconds and smile as I step out of the doorway. “Welcome. You must be Ms. Iverson. Please come on in.”
“It’s freezing out here. I didn’t expect to be left standing on the doorstep for so long.”
She couldn’t have been waiting for more than three minutes, and the temperature is a mild forty-eight degrees. But I don’t say any of that, of course.
“I’m so sorry. I was upstairs in the library, and Colleen and Roy are cooking. Let me show you to your room. We won’t be eating for another forty-five minutes, so you have plenty of time to settle in.”
She doesn’t respond. Simply steps into the entry hall with an indignant sniff, leaving her luggage on the front step. A large suitcase, a matching garment bag, and two additional small bags.
I do my best to arrange them all between my shoulders and hands and follow her.
When she stands at the bottom of the stairs, I say, “Your room is off the guest hall here.” I nod toward the first-floor hallway to the right.
Her stunning eyes narrow between perfect long lashes. “You’re clearly new here. I always stay on the second floor in the charming room at the end.”
The charming room at the end must be mine. My room.
I’m not foolish enough to admit it, of course. “Oh, I’m so sorry. That room is already taken. We’ve prepared a lovely room here for you. It’s much larger.”