“If you’re sure…” she says tentatively. But I can already see her tallying up all the things she has to do when she gets home. She starts to gather her things.
She kisses him on the forehead and lingers over his hand. He pats the side of her face and she ducks his hands, laughing. “Thanks for doing this, Wren,” she says. She slips out the door and closes it gently behind her.
“God, I love that girl, but she’s like a mother hen, always clucking around, telling me to eat my vegetables and get some sleep.” He adjusts himself in the bed and groans. “I’ve been trying to run her off for days.”
“She loves you.”
“And I love her too, but sometimes you have to let a man rest.” Henry stops and stares at me.
“Why didn’t she tell anyone you were here?”
“I asked her not to. The last thing I want is someone treating me like I’m a sick old man.”
“But what about the times when you are a sick old man?” I protest. “Like now.”
“I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”
“Can I get you anything?” I ask, suddenly nervous, because he has that look that says he’s going to pull all the truth right out of my soul.
He shakes his head. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” he suddenly blurts out.
I look everywhere but at him, because I’m fiercely blinking back tears.
“Oh, honey,” he says. He takes my hand in his. “Love’s supposed to hurt just a little bit. That’s how you know it’s real. If you felt nothing, you’d know you had nothing.”
“He’s not even talking to me now,” I say.
He waves his hand in the air again. “If I had to count all the times my Nan refused to talk to me, I’d have to use my fingers, my toes, the hairs on my back, and all of yours.” He reaches for a lock of my hair and rubs it between his fingers. “She was a blonde, you know, when I met her. She was short and thin. She liked taking long walks because she said they cleared her head. She was a fighter, all the way to the end. But, good God, when that woman was mad, she locked up tighter than a rusty bolt. She didn’t say a word. But I always knew she loved me. I knew she’d talk to me again, so I just rode out the storm.”
“I wish this was just a little storm.” Hell, I’m not even sure what this is.
He points to the cabinet across the room. “Reach in there and get me the book, will you?” he asks. I rummage in his small cabinet until I find a notebook at the bottom of the pile of his belongings. I hand it to him. “I had Faith bring me this so I could read it when I don’t have anything to do.” He opens it and turns the pages, licking his thumb so he can flip them faster. He
stops at one section. “Right here,” he says. He holds the book out to me.
I take it from him and look down at the page. Neat, flowing, handwritten script graces the page. “Whose is this?”
“It was my Nan’s.” He nudges me. “Go ahead. Read it to me.”
Dear Diary,
I have decided that my husband is an ass.
I look up from the book as Henry chuckles. “I was an ass,” he says. “Go on.”
Dear Diary,
I have decided that my husband is an ass. Why, you might ask? Well, that’s easy. He’s a stubborn, pigheaded, irritating man. Today, he got us tickets to see a movie, and he made arrangements for the neighbor, Mrs. Barstow, to watch the two little ones. He knows we can’t afford a movie. But he did it anyway. He came home from work looking smug and I knew something was up. We don’t have two pennies to rub together and the man spends the little bit we do have to buy tickets to a movie.
I very promptly told him that I would not be attending, so he could just go by himself. So, what did he do? He took the kids to the neighbor’s apartment, and then he came back and kissed me so soundly that I lost my breath.
“Still mad at me?” he asked, when I finally stepped down off the cloud I was on.
“Livid,” I said, with my lips still pressed tight against his.
Then the fool kissed me again. We went to the movie, and he bought popcorn while we split a soda. After that, we walked hand in hand down the street and he stopped and kissed me under the streetlight. I knew then that I should tell him. I knew then that I should tell him why I wasn’t willing to spend the money. But I couldn’t. He’d made the night so perfect.
“I already know,” he said, as he brushed my hair back from my face. I looked up at him, with that streetlight behind him like a halo, and he said he already knew. “We’ll make it work, no matter what, just like we always have,” he said.