Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (20 page)

He shook his head and tossed it aside. It fluttered to the ground at his feet and he sat back hard, causing the swing to rock. As night fell around him, he stared down the long driveway, rocking gently.

***

Arianna waited anxiously as Shannon climbed the stairs to her front door with the day’s mail.

“Anything?” Arianna asked.

“No, ‘fraid not.”

Arianna stomped, frowned, and stepped back into the apartment.

It had been a week since he would have received the letter. Caleb had plenty of time to write back.

“What should I do?” she asked.

Shannon tossed a pencil across the living room. “Write him again.”

“And say what?”

“The same thing you said last time, only word it a bit differently. Grovel more.”

“I ought to just get on the evening train and show up. Then he’d be forced to deal with me.”

“I think it’s too soon for that,” Shannon said. She folded the last of Patrick’s clothes and stuffed them into a bag.

“It’s been two weeks. He has to have cooled off by now,” she said and dropped onto the couch. She watched Shannon bustling around. Patrick was getting ready for another fight. Shannon seemed to have aged in the last two days as she prepared his things.

The stifling heat wasn’t helping either of their dispositions. Arianna wanted to press her for more advice but could see her mind was elsewhere.

“Maybe I should get a job while I’m waiting,” she said, fanning herself with a book. “I can’t keep living on charity, and I’m bored senseless.”

“And while you’re waiting for Caleb to hopefully take you back, you could earn back some of the money you spent,” Shannon said. “Restaurant two blocks over had a help wanted sign in the window yesterday. I’d hurry though, it won’t last long.”

Shannon was absorbed in what she was doing. The worrying had already begun. After a quick check of her hair, Arianna swiped up her handbag and walked down the street to the restaurant.

***

When Jonathan got home on Monday, he had the look of a spurned man. His anger boiled up whenever he looked at her.

The Tourer was running fine, but there was too much daylight and tension to sit in the house. He went out and opened the hood. It was easier than avoiding her every time she came in the room. Nearly a week of chilly silence was frustrating and giving forced smiles to the children was even more so. They, Eddie and Jean anyway, instinctively knew something was wrong.

Children always knew.

He heard footsteps approaching, and worried it was Ava, picked up a wrench, and stuck his head in. There was nothing to tighten or loosen, but it didn’t matter. He needed to look busy.

“Can’t talk right now, Ava,” he said in a bark.

“It’s me. Eddie.”

Jonathan came up and poked his head around the hood at the soft voice.

“Oh. What do you need, Eddie?” He put the wrench down and sat on a wooden crate. The one his father always sat on.

Though Eddie had relaxed into acting his age, the seriousness he had during their first few encounters returned. With a frown, he wiped the hair from his eyes, and then shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Jonathan said and realizing he was frowning, softened into a smile.

Eddie stared and drew himself tall. “No, it’s not,” he said softly.

No sense in lying to the child. He was above all, practical. Whether he was born that way or his lot in life formed the habit, he was. Jonathan leaned on his knees, agreeing with a nod.

“Ava and I are having a disagreement, that’s all,” he said. “She feels one way about something, I feel another, and we can’t find a way to agree.”

Eddie watched him carefully.

“Is it about me?” he asked, jutting his chin in the air.

Jonathan blinked and shook his head. “No. It has nothing to do with you, Eddie.”

“Jean said you don’t fight a lot.”

“Well, we don’t. But adults argue once in a while. They disagree on things. They get angry, and eventually, they get past it.”

“What is it you’re angry over?” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and walked closer, peering into the cavity of the engine as he went.

“It’s hard for me to explain.”

“You mean it’s adult stuff?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Eddie was quiet, looking into the engine, glancing at the dusty wooden crates piled up against the back wall, the tools scattered around.

“Adult stuff usually means kid stuff. You don’t have to keep me. I want you to keep me, but not if it’s going to make everyone mad at each other.”

“Eddie.” He reached out and took the child’s thin arm. “This has nothing to do with you. We’re glad you’re here.”

Eddie faced him, judging the sincerity in Jonathan’s eyes. “If you didn’t want me anymore, I’d rather you just told me. I won’t throw a fit. It’s better than…”

Jonathan said his name again, took him by both arms and looked him in the eyes. “Better than what?”

“Better than being mean to me because you made a mistake.”

“We did not make a mistake. We are so glad you’re here. Before Ava and I had our disagreement, we were watching all three of you together and she said the family finally felt complete. I agree with her on that.”

Eddie smiled shyly. “I’m glad because I don’t want to leave. I like it here. It’s the best I’ve ever had it.”

Jonathan tousled his hair and pulled him into a hug. The child was so skinny he could feel every rib.

“Why don’t you go inside and see if Ava made any cookies this morning before it got too hot.”

“I have another question first,” Eddie said with his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. “Can I go to school in the fall?”

“Of course,” Jonathan said and Eddie’s eyes lit up.

“Scottie hates school, but Jean loves it. He said I’ll love it, too.”

“You will. And you’ll make a bunch of friends, and you’ll always have Jean to look out for you.”

“And Scottie, too. We made a club and the only way you can join is if you’re like us. Jean doesn’t have his real mom, Scottie doesn’t have his real dad, and I don’t have either of my real parents.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said, surprised.

“But it’s okay. You’re better than my real parents.” He flashed a smile that showed neglected teeth and Jonathan’s thoughts went to more practical things like paying for the child to go to the dentist. A voice whispered that Ava’s money could help with that. Another voice whispered back that he’d find a way on his own.

“Why do you look sad again?” Eddie asked.

“No reason. Run along in the house.”

Eddie hesitated and then hugged Jonathan in a flash. He hugged everyone that way. As if he had to do it quickly, so they wouldn’t have any warning and wouldn’t have time to push him away.

On his way out of the garage, Ava stepped around the corner.

“Are there any cookies?” he asked.

“I made some shortbread earlier. They’re in the cupboard. You can have two.” She touched his head as he passed and then as she looked at Jonathan, her smile faded. She clasped her hands behind her back and walked slowly across the dirt, into the shade of the garage.

Jonathan scrambled to appear busy, ducking beneath the hood, banging his head on the way.

She walked right up to him and leaned an elbow on the car.

“I went about it wrong,” she said. He didn’t say anything, but banged on metal three times with the wrench. “These last couple of weeks, I should have asked you to come with me.” Jonathan stood slowly.

“I was so worried you were going to try to stop me, it never crossed my mind.”

“Why would I want to come with you? So we can both be arrested? What would the kids do?”

She tempered a smile. “Always so serious,” she said softly. “I should have asked you to come with me, so you could see the place. So you could see me doing something I really enjoy, and so you wouldn’t worry so much. I should have invited you along instead of shutting you out.”

With an eyebrow cocked, he began wiping off the clean wrench.

“Are you going to be stubborn? Or will you come this Friday? I can ask Maura to sit with the children.”

The idea had appeal. They hadn’t had a night out together, just them, in… he thought back and couldn’t remember. Life for the last few years had consisted of work, worry, and potatoes.

“I don’t know,” he said and put the wrench away. “It’s not going to make me like the idea any better.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’d like to think I know myself, Ava.”

“I’ll tell you what. Let me know on Friday morning if you want to go and I’ll arrange something with Maura.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll still go.”

His face hardened.

“I enjoy it and we need the money. You can’t argue with that.”

It was true, he couldn’t. “Eddie needs to go to the dentist,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I know. So does Jean. He was complaining of a toothache the other night.”

“He was?”

“I had him rinse with salt water and it went away.”

“But it will be back,” Jonathan said with a huff.

“Which is why I have to do this.”

Jonathan tossed the rag and folded his arms, leaning against the car with a thud.

“Do you think I like this? The kids need something and it takes you having to work and risking jail in order to provide it? It’s my job. Not yours. It’s not right,” he barked with a full pout.

“So that’s the root of it,” Ava said and touched his cheek. He jerked his head away.

“Yes, that’s the root of it. But all those other things bother me, too,” he said, waving his arm.

“Do you think Aryl feels this way when Claire paints for Ruth? Does Caleb throw a fit when Arianna sells…sold her arrangements and cut hair? If you ask me, it’s about time I did something to help. The other wives are.”

“Painting and flowers aren’t illegal,” Jonathan said.

“Neither is singing.”

“But it’s where you’re singing—”

“We could debate that all day long, Jon. The fact is, I found a way to help, and luckily, I like it. I’m not going to quit for both of those reasons. But I do want to invite you to come.”

He stewed with a tightly knit brow. “I’ll think about it.”

***

Muzzy stared down at the table. Small gifts had begun to trickle in, mostly from long time subscribers that she’d gotten to know along the way. The cards congratulated, wished she and Peter the best, and grumbled a bit that they were married in secret, denying everyone the opportunity to witness it. Some of them were genuinely mad at her.

“People are looking for any reason to celebrate these days. They feel left out,” Peter said. “Don’t take it personally. They’ll get over it.” He pushed a small package across the table.

“What’s this?”

“Considering I haven’t opened it yet, I don’t know,” Muzzy snapped.

“No need to be rude.
Wife
.” He grinned.

She stared viciously.

“I know you want to throw that at me right now, but you should open it instead. It’s from Harold.”

Muzzy groaned. “Harold sent us a wedding gift? I can’t.” She pushed the box back. “You do it.”

“No, he’s your ex. You open it.
Dear.
”

“Peter, I swear…” She shook her head and yanked the box back. Tearing it open, she found a carefully wrapped piece of china.

“A gravy boat?” she asked and cocked an eyebrow. “What on earth are we going to do with a gravy boat?” The household trinkets that they’d received over the last few days seemed more frightening than collecting furniture together. It was all so…permanent.

“I’m going to guess we would use it for gravy.”

“We barely take the time to eat, much less eat fancy. This looks expensive.” She looked up at Peter. “Would I be a terrible person if I considered selling it?”

“Yes, you would. It’s a gift. And it’s half mine. We’ll use it. I’ll make a nice dinner for our two week anniversary.” He sidled up to her, and as he put his arm around her waist, she slithered away.

“Did you completely forget the conversation we had about my needing time to get used to this?” she asked. While she was still thrown for a loop over this whole marriage business, Peter was thoroughly happy, calm, and more content than she’d ever seen him.

“I apologize for my physical advances,
Mrs. Burkley,
” he said with a gentlemanly, but mocking bow.

“And especially don’t forget that I’m keeping my own name.”

“I would expect nothing less from a modern rebel such as yourself.”

He’d been patient and found humor in it, knowing everything about their relationship, their marriage, and even Muzzy herself was unconventional. Still, something he’d only dare dream about had fallen right into his hands, literally he noted, as he looked down at her wedding ring. It would take her time to get used to this and more importantly, admit that she felt the same way about him. For now, there would be no moonlit waltzes with her swooning in his arms. She had swooned once, when he’d kissed her. Only then, she hadn’t seen it coming. Her defenses were far too high for that now. After they’d gotten back from Boston, he’d tried for a kiss, casually, as any husband would approach his wife. She reacted by yelping, ducking her head and skittering away like a startled crab. From that moment on, he began reminding her, teasingly, that they should probably act like they were married after all the trouble they’d gone to—when she was ready, of course.