A Fine Mess (12 page)

“Paul Blake?” Again, the name sounded familiar but he had to think for a moment before he remembered who it was.
“Paul Blake from accounting!”

“That would be the one.”

“You married a girl from
accounting?
”

“No, I married a secretary. Her father is from accounting.”

“
A secretary!
”
He said the word with such distaste that Ian started to bristle.

“Yes, Dad.
You’re starting to sound like a parrot. Why don’t you just congratulate me and ask if I’m happy so I can get back to work?”

“I could care less if you’re
happy!
What do you mean by going off and marrying someone so far beneath you? I expected more of you than that.”

Ian walked toward the desk and carefully placed his hands on its surface.

“Watch it, Dad. That’s
my wife
you’re talking about. I married who I wanted to marry. I’m sorry if she doesn’t meet with your approval. But I’ll tell you what. She meets with
mine!
”

With that he turned to stalk out of the pretentious office that had been his father’s for as long as he could remember.

“I’ll be telling my secretary in a minute so you might want to compose yourself before the news makes its way through the grapevine. I hope you’ll welcome Paul to the family with more enthusiasm than you’ve welcomed his daughter,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

“You always were a disappointment to me,” his father muttered, not bothering to even look at him.

Ian just shrugged his shoulders and headed back to his own office. Some people would have been hurt by such a hateful reaction from their parent. Fortunately he’d grown used to that kind of coldness years ago.

~~~~

With Maddie recovering nicely from her most recent illness, preparations for the move began in earnest. As the realtor had predicted, the offer had been accepted in short order and, within a matter of days, they owned the house on Wildwood Way.

Because Ian wanted to be settled soon, he and Annie had taken to eating quick restaurant meals so that they had more time to shop for furnishings and decorative items.

And to pack.
And clean both the apartment and the house. Although Ian insisted on hiring a cleaning service for both places, Annie insisted on cleaning the cupboards and bathrooms in the new place herself. So Ian was left with no choice but to pitch in and help.

It would be a relief when they were finally able to eat relaxing meals in their new home. Especially since Annie had taken to saying grace at mealtimes. A practice she continued to do in
public
.

Not that Ian thought there was anything particularly wrong with prayer.
Or praying in public for that matter.
It wasn’t like she was shouting it or anything. She was actually fairly discreet. Still, it tended to draw the attention of people around them, and that made him uncomfortable.

But what could he do? Tell her to stop it?
Probably not without starting a mutiny.
And so he sat at the table in the steakhouse they’d decided on tonight, waiting for her to finish fixing her salad at the bar a short distance away, preparing to be embarrassed again.

Of course if she’d stop talking with the man standing beside her like they were glued together, they could start eating a little sooner.

Ian sat up a little straighter, his attention zeroed in on them. Now that he looked closer, the man seemed to be doing all the talking. Annie seemed to be ignoring him.
Or trying to.
He shot to his feet when the guy grabbed her arm.

“Sorry, pal, but this one is taken,” he said, smoothly cutting between Annie and her admirer.

“Says who?” the young man asked sarcastically, reaching up to flip some of his long, jet black hair out of his eyes.

“Her
husband
.”
Ian flashed his wedding ring in his face. “So I suggest if you want to hit on someone’s wife, you get one of your own, okay. You finished here, Sweetheart?”

“Yes I am,” she said quickly, shooting him a grateful smile.

“I already got me a wife,” the guy persisted. “Yours is prettier. How about we trade?”

“Sorry, but I prefer to keep mine.” With that, he put his arm protectively-and possessively-around his wife, and led her back to the table. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you for rescuing me,” she said her voice shaking slightly. She sat down in the chair he pulled out for her. “He certainly was determined.”

“What he is is lucky.”

“What!” Annie gasped

“Lucky that he’s not picking himself up off the floor!
Hitting on someone’s wife, while her husband is standing right there, takes a lot of guts. Or stupidity!” Ian grumbled, scowling at the salad bar, where Romeo had found a new, and evidently more willing, target.

“Violence never solved anything,” Annie said gently, placing her hand over his, which he’d curled into a fist on the tabletop.

“I wasn’t talking violence.
Just a quick clip on the jaw.
That’s all.”

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that. Now can we forget about it and eat please? I’m starving.”

But Ian found that he couldn’t forget about it, craning his head this way and that in order to keep track of the grungy looking pick up artist. What if he hadn’t been here to intervene, he wondered.

“Have you had any self-defense training?” he asked suddenly, turning back to glare at Annie.

“Uh-uh,” was all she could manage, having just taken a bite of salad.

“I’ll arrange for some lessons first thing in the morning. One of my clients teaches martial arts and I understand he knows his stuff.”

“Ian-” He watched her swallow quickly. “You don’t have to do that. He wouldn’t have done anything. He was just being rude and pushy.”

“You don’t know that he wouldn’t have done anything! You’re having the lessons and that’s all there is to it.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Annie said, straightening her back. “You can’t order me to do something like that. I’m not ten years old. And you’re not my father!”

“No, but I am your husband. And your Bible gives me the right to do whatever I want,” he snapped, annoyed that she was taking this the wrong way.

“Oh no it doesn’t!”
she said, her voice starting to rise in volume. She quickly ducked her head and glanced around, but he could have told her that no one had noticed the outburst. She refused to look at him when the waiter, seconds later, delivered their meals

“
Read it
. You’re to submit to and obey me,” he whispered as the young man walked to another table.

“I’m pretty sure that privilege only belongs to men who actually love their wives!”

“I’ve read quite a bit of the one your mother gave us and I’ve figured one thing out. If you believe it, you have to do what it says. And
you
believe it.”

“And
you
don’t,” she responded sarcastically, spearing a piece of steak off her plate like she wished it were his hide.

“I don’t know yet. I’m reserving judgment for now.”

They ate in angry silence for several minutes. Long minutes during which Annie still refused to look at him.

He finally admitted to himself that he had handled the whole situation badly. He also suspected that if he didn’t stop throwing the whole submissive wife subject in her face, she was probably going to throw something in his. And he doubted it would be just words.

“Annie.” She continued eating as though he weren’t there. “Annie, I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so little and I realized that it wouldn’t take much for someone like that guy to hurt you. I was just worried. But I was still mad, too, so nothing came out like I meant it.”

It felt like time stopped as he waited to see what she would do now. And then she looked up, tears
brimming
her eyes. He hadn’t expected that reaction.

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “It was so sweet of you to come and rescue me like that. He did kind of scare me, but I didn’t want to admit it. But then you started telling me what I was going to do like I was a little kid or something and- I don’t know. I guess I’m kind of rebellious sometimes.”

“I think anyone would be if some egotistical jerk started ordering them around like I just tried to do to you,” he said gently, reaching across the table for her hand. “I really am sorry, Annie.”

“I really am, too. And you‘re not a jerk.”

“So you forgive me?” He smiled a lopsided smile. “Your Bible says you have to, you know.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t
it.
I suppose I’ll have to then.” She squeezed his hand. “Will you forgive me for being such a shrew?”

“Of course I will.”

“Hmm,” she said, after a moment. “I think you were supposed to be magnanimous just then and tell me that I’m not a shrew.”

“Well, if the shoe fits-” Ian shrugged nonchalantly, and then grinned like a mischievous little boy.

Annie laughed, quickly withdrawing her hand from his.

“If we want to get anything done tonight, we’d better finish up here, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you say,
Dear
.”

~~~~

It turned into a very long night. Their first stop, after the restaurant, had been at a trendy little store that sold linens, draperies and kitchen supplies. And that’s exactly what they purchased. For nearly two hours.

They’d measured all of the windows the previous evening, and because of their efforts, each one would be tastefully covered. The linen closets would be stocked with monogrammed towels and sheets. And the kitchen cupboards would be filled with every gadget any woman who loved to cook could ever desire.

Then it was to the house, where they unloaded everything and finished cleaning the two and a half bathrooms.

“I’m glad that’s done,” Annie sighed, as Ian let them back into the apartment.

“Me, too.
Now all we have to do is finish packing this place up and be ready to move Friday after work.”

They both sighed at that thought. Only three days. And between now and then, one of them had to meet one furniture company or another so their new things could be delivered.

 
“I think we’re going to need a vacation when all this is over,” he said, yawning loudly as he flipped on the hallway light.

“Can we have room and maid service and a massage therapist?
Because I’ll tell you what.
My muscles hate me tonight.”

“Wimp,” he teased, stopping outside her bedroom door.

“And who did I hear groaning when he got out of the car downstairs?”

“Couldn’t have been me. I’m a
macho
kind of guy.”

“So you want to go out for a jog, Mr. Macho?” Annie tried her best to stifle a yawn, and yawned all the more.

“Oh could we? Please?”