13

Afret Sue cleaned up from the wedding mishap, she arrived at her new residence and marveled that Jake had such immaculate but beautiful taste. No wonder he got away from me and my family as soon as that mouse ran across the table. He doesn’t like to get dirty. He had wanted to stick around and go home with her so he could give her a personal tour of the place, but he was called to business at the last minute to discuss plans to buy the building that would house the future bank. So Henry took her and her things from the apartment to the house. She only had two worn suitcases that summed up her entire life. Her apartment had been furnished. It felt strange to know she was making such a drastic change in her economic status. She climbed out of the buggy, acutely aware that her old clothes were sorely out of place there.

Henry carried her suitcases to the front door for her. “Am I supposed to pay you?” She searched for any money she might find in her purse.

“No, Mrs. Mitchell. Your husband has taken care of that already. He pays me well in advance for all of my services.”

“Oh.” He really is a generous man then.

He rang the front doorbell for her. “I know you are free to enter on your own, but Ralph and Lydia Border wanted to be at the door to welcome you. Ralph and Lydia are expecting their first child. Jake gave them two bedrooms which are downstairs and a decent salary for their services. Ralph is the butler and Lydia is the maid. They’re as friendly as can be and are eager to meet you.”

“How many bedrooms are here anyway?”

“Six.”

“What does a bachelor need with so many bedrooms?

Does he entertain?”

“He never entertains. He hates dinner parties and any other social gatherings. He makes himself go to the dance on Fridays so he can do business there and avoid the need for going to the other social functions in town. He likes to stick mainly to himself, but I think he gets lonely sometimes. He has a big house and a big heart but there’s no one special to share it with.”

The door opened and a couple in their late twenties smiled at her.

“We’re so happy to meet you!” Lydia declared. She hugged her as much as she could with her expanding belly. “You’re ready to deliver at any moment, aren’t you?” Sue laughed.

“The baby is a week late,” Ralph confided. “We’re anxious to see the little one.”

“How exciting! I can’t wait to see him or her either. I love babies. I got a lot of practice helping out with my younger siblings.”

Ralph brought in her bags.

“Maybe you can help a nervous mother then?” Lydia asked.

“I would be honored to do what I can to help.”

“I knew I was going to love you as soon as Mr. Mitchell told me he was marrying you. I go to the library on occasion and hear about how nice you are. Now I know those aren’t just rumors.”

“I don’t think everyone would agree with you. There are some people who run when they see me coming.” She thought of Mr. Wilkins who had turned the other way when he saw her walking in his direction at the wedding.

Lydia changed topics. “Mr. Mitchell has prepared your bedroom for you. Will you follow us?”

Sue sighed as she recalled her irritation over the lace in her dress. It didn’t take long for him to start dictating her life for her, did it? They led her up the oak staircase and into a room with peach walls, lacy curtains and a flowery bedspread. The plush white carpet was the only bearable thing about the room. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the many frilly dresses decorated in sequins, bows, and flowers.

“He makes me so mad!” she hissed. “I don’t hold any of this against you since you were following instructions, but all of this makes me want to throw up. I want another room. This time, I’ll select it.”

They looked bewildered as she stomped to the next bedroom and opened the door.

“Ma’am, we’re sorry. The room was originally yellow and white with a plain yellow bedspread. As for the clothes, I gave him advice on what to make,” Lydia said.

“He didn’t bother to ask me what I wanted. That’s my problem,” Sue assured her. “I hold none of this against you. You are wonderful people.”

She looked around the light blue walls and beige carpet. The bedspread was a medium blue with a matching pillow. She went down the hall to another bedroom and saw that its colors were green and white. The last room was his bedroom. It was the best one, in her opinion. In strong contrast to the other rooms, this room was striking in its dark colors. The walls appeared to be made of wood. The dark blue curtains were drawn, but on the oak desk in the corner was a golden lamp on it with a beige shade which created a warm ambience to the room. The large bed had an oak headboard and footboard. The dark green, navy, and white pattern of the bedspread matched the pillow cases. On his oak night stand was a copy of The Iliad by Homer. On his oak dresser, he had a small golden globe, a golden clock and a picture of his mother in a gold frame. She walked across the soft dark green carpet and opened the oak closet door, marveling at the large walk in closet filled with countless suits and shoes.

“I want this room. Throw his things out,” she said.

Lydia looked flustered and Ralph was ready to panic.

“Oh, I don’t actually expect you to do that. I suppose it’s only right he gets the best bedroom in the house.” She went back to the blue bedroom. “I’ll take this one. And can I have a bookcase? I want to start a book collection.” It was comfortable enough. She would have preferred his setup but realized six months was hardly worth the money or effort to fancy her room up the same way. Compared to his room, hers was cold and barren.

“But I refuse to wear these clothes,” she said. She dragged out the hideous clothes he selected for her and threw them down the stairs. “I will wear my peasant clothes until I get a seamstress to make clothes I prefer.”

Before she could give further instructions to the overwhelmed couple, Jake walked into the house. “What are you doing? Those are perfectly good clothes,” he yelled at her.

“They are not the kind of clothes I want,” she snapped. Ralph and Lydia ran down the steps so they could quickly collect the clothes.

“And I hate the bedroom you picked out for me,” she

added as she finished throwing the last two dresses over the rail. “I don’t like peach or pink or flowery stuff. I prefer solid colors like green and blue. But what would you know about any of that? You never bothered to ask what I wanted. You compared me to a bunch of women and decided I would like the same things they do. And while you’re at it, return this awful ring!” She took the wedding ring off of her finger and threw it at him. “I can hardly lift my finger with a rock that big. I am not someone you can put into a box, Mr. Mitchell.”

“You’re amazing, you know that!” he screamed back. “You show absolutely no gratitude. I just handed you a lot of money today and you complain about colors, clothes and diamonds that are too big. Don’t you realize what you can buy with the amount of money you hold in your purse?”

“Great. So get me a seamstress and I’ll pay her the appropriate fees.”

“We’ll get right on it, sir,” Lydia told him as she and Ralph left with the bundle of clothes in their arms.

“I want your room,” she decided.

“What?”

“You got it. I like your room. Make the blue one like your room, except you can leave the blue walls because blue is my favorite color.”

“What a relief I picked that for the wedding then!” She stomped down the steps.

He shuddered.

“What is your problem?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

“I can’t believe you’re soiling my nice home in that horribly worn out dress.”

“Well, until I get a seamstress, I’m wearing my peasant clothes. And I’ll even leave the house in broad daylight and wave to everyone I see.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me,” she snapped. “You will not control me. I have as much right to my likes as you do.” She walked down the rest of the steps. “Now what else is in this house?” She saw a door to her left and went to it.

“That’s my sanctuary. You can’t go in there,” he argued as she opened the door.

“Why do you have all the good rooms?”

He followed her in, his face red with anger. “You’re out of your mind.”

She inspected the fireplace, the chairs, the artifacts he had in careful display on the walls and on shelves, the bookcase filled with volumes of books, his desk, and the animals on the walls. “You really amaze me, you know that. You obviously have impressive taste yet you don’t display it in anything that is not uniquely yours.”

“You’re not coming into my home to change anything.

This is my house. The only room you’re allowed to change is your bedroom and that’s it. You’re so afraid I’m going to control you because I was trying to be nice and fix things up the way a typical woman likes it.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a typical woman.” She faced him and crossed her arms, knowing her high neckline made it perfectly acceptable to do so. “I am a spinster. I grew up doing boy chores on a farm. I know more about books and horses than I do about flowers and other dainty things. And just so you know, I will not go to a single luncheon or dinner party, and I refuse to do any entertaining at this house. So don’t expect me to follow in suit with what other wives are happy to do. I like my privacy and won’t compromise it for anyone or any amount of money. And you can tell your Mr. Barnett that I didn’t sign up for those things so I am well within my legal rights.”

“Well, that’s great news because I hate those things too! I don’t want you bringing people over here or dragging me off to

boring social events. The dance is all I can stomach.”

“So it seems we are in agreement.”

“I guess we are!”

“There is one thing I would change about this room.”

“Here it comes. I won’t get it.”

She ignored him. “You need a black bearskin rug in front

of the fireplace. Then this room will be complete!”

“That’s actually a good idea!”

“I am full of good ideas.”

“So you mean it. No dragging me to social functions or bringing people here?”

“When I get home from work, I like to read a book. I get

enough of people all day and I need time to myself.”

“And you won’t feminize my house?”

“That’s not even a word.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I’m not going to decorate your precious house with feminine objects. Weren’t you listening when I told you I don’t like all that stuff?”

“So why are we fighting?” he yelled.

She paused as she processed everything they just agreed on. What were they arguing about? “I don’t know, but I’m sure there was a good reason,” she said in a calmer voice.

He laughed. “And to think I was so scared of marriage. You’re actually going to be easy to live with.”

She relaxed and chuckled. “My friend Belinda lets her husband control everything she does and says. I was afraid you’d try that with me.”