No Ordinary Bloke (41 page)

He glanced over at me, looking above the reading glasses perched on his nose. From the neck down, he looked almost professorial. His red hair had already gone silver gray, but there was still some rusty color in his beard. Both were kept perfectly trimmed, and the male version of Allison’s green eyes coldly eyed the world. Below the neck, he looked like a farmer in a plaid shirt, jeans, and work boots. His gnarled hands also gave him away. Thank God I did carpentry, and my hands had taken a beating in my life. Who knows what Pete would’ve thought about me if I’d walked in with Adam’s tea-pouring fingers.

“Can I help you?” asked Pete before he took a drink of water.

“I hoped I could speak to you for a moment,” I said, stepping inside the cramped room.

“All right…” He dragged out the words as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need?”

“Well, I already spoke with your mother, but as you’re Allison’s eldest brother, I’d like to ask you as well. You must know how much I care for your sister. I love her dearly. I want to ask her to marry me. While the decision is up to her, I’d like for your blessing.”

“Fine.”

I was sure I’d heard him, but when he ignored me and went back to his typing, I thought I might’ve missed something. I muttered, “Thank you” and began to turn around when he said, “One more thing.”

What a wanker
. I looked at him again and asked flatly, “What is that?”

He stood up, took a step toward me, and got right in my face. “I’ll beat you to a pulp if you hurt her.”

It was not the time to laugh, but the whole situation struck me as funny. I searched for something polite to say in return and found nothing. The man was an arsehole. I didn’t care if he did find his dead father, took over a failing farm and made it flourish, and provided for Allison when she was young. The bloke was an overbearing prat. He deserved a well-placed punch in his ruddy face. Sadly, I wasn’t the man to do it—for many reasons. “I don’t know if Allison has told you or if you even would believe it, but I’ve been in my share of fights. You probably could beat me to a pulp, but I would never hurt her so you needn’t worry.”

A smile slowly spread across his face. “Yeah, I heard about that. I’m glad you know your limits.”

“I do.” I waved goodbye and said, “Thank you then.”

Again I turned and again he called after me, “David.”

“Yes.” I looked him in the eye.

“What would you have done if I’d objected?”

“Taken my chances, of course.” I smiled. “I would’ve asked her to marry me and hoped like hell I could still remember how to lay in a good punch or two before you tried to kill me.”

A laugh began in his throat, and the sound moved down to his chest before you could see it shake his stomach. “That’s good,” he said, giving me the first friendly smile I’d ever received from him. He laughed a bit more and added, “I like that.”

I walked on, but I was called once again. “One last thing,” he said.

“Yes?” I said, wheeling around.

“Can you ask before the Fourth? It would really make my mom happy to be able to tell all her friends at the parade.”

“Not a problem.” I grinned. “I’ll do it tonight.”

That night, Allison and I went for a walk after dark. She led me through a meadow to the top of a hill she loved. A full moon rose as we walked, and all around us fleeting little lights seemed to change from on to off. I pretended to cover my eyes. “Good God, it’s bright. I thought we were in the country. It feels like we’re in Tokyo.”

“It’s because it’s a full moon.” She laughed.

“What are these other blinking lights?”

“They’re fireflies, silly.”

“Fireflies? Really?”

“Yes, fireflies, lightning bugs. Don’t you have them in the U.K.?”

I tried to grab the little buggers, but they were quick. “No, we don’t. I think God knew they would make Brits nervous.”

“How can they make you nervous?” She chased after one with her hand. “They’re magical. Look at what they’re doing to the night.”

As she looked all around admiring the twinkling lights, I touched my front pocket one more time and said, “You look happy, love.”

“I am happy.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s a beautiful night. We’re on vacation in Iowa which I know isn’t a vacation for you, but it’s good for me to be home. You being here with me makes it all the more special.” She kissed my cheek. “I hope you’re having an okay time.”

“I’m having a great time. I’m here with you.”

“We live together. I happen to know that just because you’re with me doesn’t mean you’re having a great time.”

“Of course, no one is always having a
great
time. There are unfortunate things like crap days at work and Liverpool losing, but I know my life is better with you in it.”

She was coy. “Are you sure? Really? Don’t you ever miss all the
variety
you used to have?”

“Fuck no.” I played with one of her curls. “I’m a changed man.”

“Just don’t change again, okay?”

“I don’t know about that…”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I do want things to change between us.”

“You do?” Her brow furrowed so deeply that I felt a little badly for teasing her.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s bloody high time.” I smiled and watched as her expression became completely perplexed as I dropped to one knee. When I took her hand in mine, you could see everything click in her mind and her worried face changed to a giddy one. As I pulled the ring out of my pocket, I said, “I know I’m just an ordinary bloke, but I love you with all my heart and I’ll do everything I can to make your life extraordinary.”

“David…”

I then slipped the Sylvia approved diamond ring onto her hand. “Will you marry me, my darling girl?”

She alternated staring at me and the ring, and then she soon sank to her own knees so our eyes could meet again. I laughed. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be down here, love. Not you.”

“It didn’t seem right—you down here all by yourself,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “I wanted to be with you. I love you.”

I could feel mine mist up as well, so I joked. “I love you, too, but is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes, of course. I can’t imagine a life without you. Doesn’t this just seem as it should be?” Her tears began in earnest, but her smile widened as well.

“It does.” I kissed her madly as my heart swelled, taking all of my breath. I stopped for a moment and looked up into the dazzling night sky.

“What are you doing?” she said.

I smiled and kissed the little freckles on her neck. “Thanking my lucky stars, darling. Thanking my lucky stars.”

Chickasaw County, Iowa

Twenty Years Later

Allison

E
very summer when we visited Iowa, I felt as if I’d become my mother or even my grandmother. As I stood outside scattering feed for the chickens, the screen door would slam, and without lifting my eyes, I stopped conversing with the birds and yelled, “Don’t slam the door.”

“Sorry” was always the half-hearted reply from my daughter—whichever daughter—just as I’d answered my mother forty years ago. Most likely, my mother had said the same to her grandmother and so-on and so-on.

There was only one difference in this circle of life. The flat Midwestern accent which had apologized was exchanged for a soft English lilt. This voice was the highest, so it had to be our youngest, Nicole, who we’d long ago given in to using the name she preferred, Nick. I turned to see her dressed in her standard long cutoffs, ratty t-shirt, and sneakers. She was our happy, well-adjusted tomboy. As she bounded down the porch steps, I asked, “Where are you off to this morning?”

“Laura’s. I can’t handle it any longer,” she said, walking over to me.

“Handle what?”

“Bev and Maggie. They’ve spent the last hour arguing over earrings for the dance.”

“Not my earrings I hope.”

Her haphazard ponytail of red curls bounced from side to side as she shook her head. “Nah. They tried though.”

“What happened?”

“Dad caught them in your jewelry case. He chewed them out.” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s another reason why I’m leaving. He’s in a lousy mood. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing…” I looked down at the chickens, trying not to smile. “Maybe it’s just the heat.”

“We come here every summer. Shouldn’t he be used to it?”

“Should be, but you know part of him enjoys complaining. Men do that. I’m sure Uncle Pete is in London right now grumbling about something, too.” I looked into her eyes which were like looking into my own. “Do you want me to drive you to Laura’s?”

“No, I want to walk. I
like
the heat.”

“I do, too.” Pushing a few stray curls off her forehead, I said, “You can ask Laura to spend the night if you like, or you can stay there if she asks.”

“Great! She actually already asked, and I’d much rather stay there.” She beamed up at me. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Now, go on.” I pointed in the direction of the Yarborough’s farm. “I’ll go see what’s up with your dad.”

After we said goodbye, I finished feeding the sweet hens and ornery roosters and headed inside the house. Upstairs I could hear the distinct clacking of high-heels against the wooden floors. Poking my head into the parlor, I checked my grandfather’s grandfather clock. The dance was still two hours away. Just as I began to withdraw my head from the room, I sensed a person on my left. I leaned in further to see David standing in front of Pete’s antique rifle case. He stared at the case and rubbed his chin.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he mumbled.

“Nothing?” I walked toward him. “You hate that thing. Why are you looking at it?” For as violent as my husband had once been in his life, he’d always hated guns.

“Dunno.”

“You don’t know?”

“I was just thinking...” He turned to me and grimaced. “I’d rather not touch the thing, but do you think having a rifle on the front porch when the bloke arrives is a bit much?”

‘What?!” I laughed. “Are you crazy? Do you want to do terrify the poor boy?”

“Well, yes.”

I held out my hand. “Come here, silly.”

He smiled and took my hand as I led him over to the sofa. Though I was the one leading him, somehow he managed to get me on his lap as we sat down. After twenty years, three kids, and the color gray overtaking my red hair, my sweet husband never stopped treating me like I was his girlfriend. I tenderly touched his own gray hair and asked a question, though I already knew the answer. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

Pursing his lips, he sucked in a breath. After a moment, he said, “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

“That Bev is going on a date.”

“She’s seventeen, and she’s gone on dates before.”

“Those were different. Those were in London. I knew the boys’ parents.”

“I know Nolan’s mom. We went to high school together. Her husband is a Methodist minister of all things. What are you worried about?”

David’s reluctant expression changed to his signature grumpy face. I steeled myself for a barrage of cursing.