"Please come see the garage apartment," I said a little shyly. "I hope you like it." I turned to precede them up the steps. Suddenly I reconsidered. "No," I said, turning. "Here are the keys."
It was theirs, they should see it alone, without me there to make them feel that they had to admire it. I left to start overseeing the carpet layers. About an hour later they came to the house, looking about them carefully, like cats examining a new environment.
While Shelby went upstairs at my invitation to finish the tour, Angel put a broad hand on my shoulder to get my attention. I looked up at her. "It's the nicest place we've lived in years," she said unexpectedly. "Shelby told me what it was like before. Thank you for everything." "You're welcome. If you want to change anything, now is the time, with all these home repair people coming in and out."
She looked at me blankly, as if changing her environment was an alien concept.
"Where do you want us to park?"
"Since Martin and I don't have both cars here, just park in the garage. I don't know what we'll work out later after the wedding, but we'll think of something." "Okay. We've carried our suitcases up, and we're ready to start work." "Work" sounded more formal than the casual "helping you out" relationship Martin had suggested. But I certainly did need help.
"Let me tell you what I want to do here in the house, and how far I've gotten on each item," I began. To my surprise, she pulled a small ruled pad out of her pocket, and uncapped a pen clipped to it. Shelby was suddenly beside her, listening just as attentively as if I were updating them on a missile launch. Feeling nervous and awkward, I started explaining, room by room, the plans I'd made, and showed them the paint, wallpaper, and carpet samples for each room that I'd sorted into a divided accordion folder. In the section I'd accorded each room was also a list of necessary repairs or changes, and taped to the front was a list of things I had yet to do before we left on our honeymoon. This list included such things as "Start paper delivery. Order new return-address stickers. New library card. Box books in townhouse. New stove will be delivered Monday a.m., be there... ." and it went on and on. "I think we can take care of this," Shelby said after a thorough briefing. "You do?" I know I sounded idiotic, but I was stunned. It had never occurred to me they'd take the whole thing off my hands.
"Of course we can't sign things for you," Angel said. "And you'll want to come see for yourself, at least once a day. I know I would. But I think we can make sure all this happens on time, and I see you've got a list of all the phone numbers we might need, taped here to the folder." I am capable of organization.
"You'd do that?" I was still having trouble grasping the idea that relief was standing right before me.
"Of course," Angel said again, surprised in turn. "That's what we're here for."
"When will Shelby start work at Pan-Am Agra?"
"Oh, not until you all are back," Shelby said. "Martin wanted us to be sure everything kept on going while you were gone, and that's what Angel and I intend to do."
"Oh... that's wonderful. Thank you," I said from the bottom of my heart.
They both looked uncomfortable and glanced at each other. "It's our job," Angel said, with a little shrug. A little shrug on Angel was a pretty large gesture.
I had to relax them before I left. "Now," I said briskly, "the carpenter building the bookshelves here in the hall is supposed to come this afternoon, but he'll get his wife to call with some excuse, about 12:30. So tell him that if he doesn't come in to finish the job, we'll hire someone else tomorrow." "Okay," Shelby nodded. "And who will we call tomorrow? Or am I bluffing?" "Bluffing. He'll come in today, but he just needs prodding. He likes to go fishing."
"So do I," Shelby said. "I feel for him. Well, go on if you have something else you need to be doing. We'll handle things here." "Thank you," I said again, and I meant it just as much.
That evening we had scheduled another session with Aubrey. I got to St. James early, but Aubrey was already there, sitting on the steps of the church. He was watching the sun go down, a little ritual he liked to observe every now and then. I plopped down by him, glad to sit and let my brain rest for a little bit. After our hellos, we slumped together companionably for a few minutes, thinking our separate thoughts, watching the splendor unfold to the west. Aubrey had a wonderful quality of restfulness, the inner relaxation of a man who is square with the world and its maker.
"Martin's not early, for once," Aubrey observed, after a while.
"No... guess he had a meeting."
"I think he usually comes early because he doesn't want to leave you alone with me."
"You think so?"
"Could be," Aubrey said neutrally.
"He knows I love him," I said.
"He knows other people love you."
I mulled that over.
"You're implying that he's extremely jealous?"
"Could be."
"Do you like Martin?"
"I admire him. He has many fine qualities, Roe. I don't think you'd pick a man who didn't. He's intelligent, strong, a leader. And he obviously loves you. But you're going to have to stand up to him on everything, every point, not let him get the upper hand. Once he has that, he won't be able to stop." "This is a surprise, Aubrey." I watched an ant toiling across the gray concrete of the sidewalk.
"I care about you. Of course, I care about everyone in this congregation, but you're a special person to me, and you know it. In these counseling sessions, I've seen how much Martin loves you and how much you love him, and I've seen that both of you believe in God and are trying to lead the good life. But Martin feels he is a law to himself, that he and God are each autonomous." We were sitting with our knees almost in our faces because the steps were so shallow. I leaned my head down on my knees, felt their hard caps and the movement of my muscles underneath, the amazing way my body worked. I was trying not to feel scared.
"You'll perform the wedding?"
"Yes. And I'm not saying anything to you I won't say to Martin. I just wanted to talk to you because I felt I was being prevented from doing it. And because I'll always be fond of you."
"Are you going to marry Emily?" I was being impertinent, but the evening and the quiet of the neighborhood around the church encouraged intimacy. "We're thinking about it. She hasn't been a widow very long, and her little girl is still trying to understand her daddy's absence." Emily's husband had been killed in a wreck the year before, and she'd moved to Lawrenceton because she had an aunt living here.
Emily Kaye was dull as dishwater, but of course I wasn't going to say that to Aubrey. At least my intended was exciting.
And here he came in his Mercedes. Martin was groomed to a T even after a long day at work, his striped shirt still crisp, his suit unwrinkled. My heart gave its familiar lurch at the sight of him, and I sighed involuntarily. "You're really in love," Aubrey said very quietly, as if to reassure himself.
"Yes."
I smiled at Martin as he got out of the car and came toward us, and he didn't look jealous or even uneasy at Aubrey and me sitting tête-à-tête. But he pulled me up by my hands and gave me a kiss that lasted too long and was almost ferocious.
"I'll go unlock the office," Aubrey murmured, and rose from the steps.
"Your friends got in today," I told Martin.
"Shelby called me. What did you think of Angel?"
"I've never met anyone like her, or like Shelby, for that matter." "What do you mean?" We began walking down the south sidewalk to the parish hall where Aubrey's office was, the dusk gathering around us. I could see the desk lamp shining through Aubrey's uncurtained window. "Well," I said slowly and carefully, "they seem used to having very little, to needing very little." I was uncertain how to phrase my next thought. "They're very quick to understand your wishes and act on them, and they don't reveal anything about themselves, about what they want. Oh, gosh, that makes them sound like a maid and a butler, and they're anything but that. But do you see what I mean?"