A Fine Mess (10 page)

Ian slipped his wedding ring off during work hours the following week-and asked that Paul keep quiet about what had happened over the weekend. He would announce the marriage the following Monday, once the fuss over the audit had a few days to settle down.

And so far, that had gone very smoothly. The accountant, Albert, who’d brought the matter to his attention
heartily
agreed that the matter should be dropped. Of course, with all the stress Paul was under over his wife, mistakes were bound to happen. Albert certainly didn’t want to add to his burden by pursuing the matter.
Especially since the boss, himself, had figured the mess out over the weekend.

So, with the crisis averted, Ian set about discreetly finishing out his employment with his father. He would take a couple of weeks to find an office in a good location, clear across town he hoped, and then give his notice. He could work on setting everything up after hours and be set to go by the end of September.

Maybe by then he and Annie would be living in a house. Heaven knew he was spending an inordinate amount of time on the phone with a real estate agent trying to set up appointments for evenings and weekends.

He leaned back in his expensive leather chair and closed his eyes.

This being married thing was really throwing his life off-kilter. He’d set the rules but was finding them a little hard to live with. Mainly because he’d always gone his own way, was set in his ways, and having a tough time remembering that, as a deliriously happy husband, he had to consider Annie’s needs in addition to his own.

That included choosing a house. Even though she’d only be living in it for five years. Given that she would be spending the bulk of her weekdays caring for her mother while Paul earned a living, the house ‘they’ chose should be near to theirs.

It should also be something she liked because, after spending time at the Blake’s, he’d decided that he did want a real home. She would have to be able to form some sort of attachment to it in order to make it like his in-laws.

A place that he looked forward to coming home to at the end of the day.
Not a cold, almost clinical place like his apartment.

It also had to have a state of the art kitchen. Anything Annie wanted for it was fine with him. As long as she kept turning out meals like the ones he’d actually enjoyed most of the week.

He’d seriously doubted that anything made with cottage cheese could taste good but her lasagna was out of this world. In fact, he figured she could make it three or four days a week and he wouldn’t get tired of it.

Of course there was the concoction she called Spanish
Rice
. If she never made that again it would be too soon!

On the whole, though, he’d found food consuming more and more of his thoughts now. Wondering about the stroganoff she was making that night. Hoping that if it was as good as she promised
,
there would be leftovers for lunch on Saturday.

“Ian?” He glanced across the room to find Paul in his doorway.

“What’s up?” He noted that his father-in-law looked a little pale.

“Annie just called. Maddie’s running a fever and I need to meet them at the oncologist's office.”

Ian got to his feet immediately. He’d grown very fond of Maddie and worried about her more than he cared to admit.

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. Let’s go.” He fished his ring out of his pants pocket on the way out to the car. “What’s wrong?”

“It might be just a summer cold. But with the chemo, her immunity is compromised. There's always a chance it could turn out to be serious.”

“What will they do for her?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see what they say at the clinic.”

~~~~

The ‘clinic’ proved to be an experience for Ian. He’d never really known anyone with cancer and had no idea how time consuming treatment could be.

Annie explained that this particular clinic was different than traditional treatment centers because they combined traditional therapies with vitamins and herbs and other alternative treatments.

After seeing three physicians, one a naturopath, Maddie was sent home with a bagful of herbs and vitamins, and instructed to return every other day for something called fever therapy. If she didn’t show signs of improvement in a week's time, she would probably be hospitalized.

When they finally arrived home, Annie seemed drained. But she still intended to make supper. Ian caught her hand as she pulled a skillet from the cupboard.

“Why don’t we just order a pizza?” he suggested, knowing it wouldn’t be as good as hers but not liking the thought of her tiring herself more than she already was.

“No. It doesn’t take long to make,” she assured him with a slight smile. “I’ll have it finished before the delivery guy can show up.”

“Yeah, but you could be resting between now and then.”

“I’ll probably fall asleep if I do that, and I‘d rather eat something first,” she said with a laugh. “I’m starving. Besides, I’ll wake up a little if I’m cooking.”

“You want me to help?” He grinned when her eyes widened at his offer.
“Seriously.
Tell me what to do and I’ll help.”

She might have been surprised at the words coming out of his mouth, but he was more so. And stunned to find he actually meant them.

“Okay. Would you mind filling this pot up to here,” she pointed to a place about three inches from the top of the big kettle, “with hot water?”

“No problem.”

They worked in companionable silence and she was right. In less than an hour the meal was ready, complete with mashed potatoes.

“I’ve never had pasta with potatoes before,” he said after a few bites. “But I think I like it.”

“Mom loves it. You’d think I’d get tired of it as often as I’ve made it for her but I’m rather fond of it myself.”

For a few minutes neither one of them said anything. But Ian had to ask the question that demanded to be asked.

“Is it always like this with your mom? Since she got sick I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“Spending so long at the doctor's.”

“Sometimes.
Sometimes we’re there all day. It just depends on what’s going on with her. When they do the fever treatments, she and Dad will probably be there three or four hours. They like to keep her for awhile afterwards. Just to make sure she’s not going to have problems with her blood pressure bottoming out.”

“It’s dangerous then?”

“Well-” She seemed to be gathering her thoughts before answering him. “It can be. Some people have died.
But only because they did it unsupervised at home.
They can pass out and then they’ll drown. When Mom goes in, she’ll have a nurse with her for the entire time, and they’ll keep a close eye on her and make sure everything is okay.”

“Good. I like your mom.
Your dad, too.”

“Yeah, so do I,” she said.
Then yawned.

“I’ll clean up here when we’re finished. You need to get some sleep.”

“I can do it, Ian.”

“And I said you can go to bed. Remember that submission thing we discussed the other night?” he asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow and trying to look stern.

Annie just stuck her tongue out at him.

~~~~

“I don’t know why you keep asking my opinion,” Annie muttered as they got ready to look at yet another house. So far they’d walked through four that morning. All big, all beautiful, and all very different than what she was used to.

She’d grown up in a beautiful but smallish colonial home in an upper middle class neighborhood. And while all of these houses weren’t very far from there, there was a world of difference in the economic status of the
neighborhood, that
was for sure!

Ian leaned close to her ear. As far as the
realtor,
or anyone else that might be looking was concerned, he might have been whispering something romantic to her.

“Smile,” he said softy. “I’m asking your opinion because you’re my deliriously happy wife. I’m also asking because you’ll be living here for the next five years and, believe it or not, I want you to be comfortable. So stop giving me a hard time and tell me when we find a house that you can turn into a home.”

Annie wondered if he realized what he’d said. She could fill a house with all the right things. She could do everything in her power to make it a welcoming, peaceful refuge. But no matter what she did, it wouldn’t be a home for him until he was ready to invest more than just the money with which to buy everything.

“Okay,” was all she said
though.
“If you really want my opinion, then I guess I should tell you that if it were up to me, I’d choose the house on Wildwood Way.”

“Wildwood Way?” He jerked back from her, looking perplexed. “That was the second house we looked at.”

“Well, you made plans to look at eleven. I thought you wanted to get an idea of what was available.”

“I do. But we don’t have to see them all if you like that one. Are you sure?”

“I thought it was perfect. But you might like one of the other ones better.”

“I told you what I want. Stay here.”

She watched him exit the car and jog to where Henry Saunders waited at the front door of the monstrosity before them. They had a quick discussion before Ian returned.

“Okay. We’ll follow him to his office so we can get the offer in today. The housing market has been so bad he thinks it should be accepted by early next week.”

The car roared to life.
As near as a sedate sedan could roar.
It never ceased to amaze Annie that Ian tended to drive slower than the speed limit, start slowing for lights and stop signs well before it was necessary, and then take off with more caution than anyone she’d ever seen. He seemed more a sports car, lead-foot kind of guy.

But just because she wished there were no speed limits didn’t mean that everyone did. In fact, she’s always harbored a small hope that there were fast cars and an endless Autobahn in heaven.

~~~~

Ian had been inside churches to attend weddings and funerals. He’d even been to the occasional christening, depending on who the baby’s parents were. But he’d never been to one for an honest to goodness sermon before.

Again, he’d set the rules of the game, so he was stuck with the consequences. And everyone in Annie’s circle knew she wouldn’t marry a man who didn’t go to church regularly. So he was going to church.

Every Sunday morning and Wednesday night for the next five years.
Sunday School, too.

Because his wife was such an accomplished cook, he’d come to grips in a hurry over having real food in his kitchen. This was a different story though. He doubted he’d ever get used to it.

At least, he thought philosophically as he knotted his tie, he would probably learn enough to converse with Maddie about God with some degree of expertise.

“Annie, are you ready?” he called, striding out to the hallway. “If this thing starts at nine-thirty, we’d better get moving or we’ll be late.”