Faces of the Wind

Chapter 47

Two weeks have passed since Adrian and Arden tied the knot. It felt more like an elopement, and maybe it was, with neither family present, no announcement made in the honeymooners' hometown and the bridegroom presenting the bride with a cheap ring. No wedding dress, no bouquet and no music. The Macys threw them a small dinner party, to which their daughter Molly and her husband Billy Peppers, who have recently moved to their own lodging, were invited along with Mrs. Bumbleton and her mousy grandson, Eddie.

Adrian no longer took his time on the evening commute back to his lodging. A cheerful companion now received him with a smile and a few words of either playful sarcasm or pure warmth. There was hot food on the table every day, thanks to the addition of his wife's wages to his. She now works for a newly-founded journal as a story writer under a male pseudonym. The stories she is often engaged to write are not to her liking, which oftentimes made her less sulky about not being able to use her real name. Her wage was not generous, but it was better than his and, unlike him, she seems to have developed skills that came in handy for managing the family's finances.

One pail of steamy water after the other was poured into the tin bath that Mrs. Bumbleton has given them as a wedding gift. She said now that there is a woman in the house, it would not be fit to keep borrowing the Macys' tub. He wondered how that was relevant as he watched his new life companion, with whom he has exchanged sacred vows, go back and forth from the kitchen area to the middle of the room, where she has placed the bath. He listened to the water gurgle loudly every time a bucket was flipped over it.

He still could not wrap his mind around the fact that he and Arden have actually become a family, but she seemed quite merry about it and, thankfully, this was infectious. He tore himself from her every morning to labour at the Medleys' establishment. He now fixed roofs, ceilings and walls in addition to his employment as a painter, but he kept these details to himself. He also cleaned the chimneys before winter like a common urchin. It felt as if every ounce of self-worth he had has been ripped away, leaving him completely numb.

"Your bath is ready, Your Highness," her soft hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back to his newly-founded realm of happiness. Her head was right beside his as she leant over. She wrinkled her nose when he looked at her. Sometimes it was hard for him to decipher her moods and reactions, but it did not matter... so long as she was his and by his side.

She stood straight and placed her fists on her waist. "Or would ee like me t'bathe ee meself?"

"You need to work on that accent," he snorted, his heart laughing, "you still don't sound like a proper common wife."

She made a funny face and gently pulled him up by the collar. He rose to his feet and began to unbutton his shirt, and she helped him. He thought he knew her, but now that they lived under the same roof, he discovered there was more to her character than he could ever have imagined. Her occasional lack of vanity made her all the more interesting and convivial.

"You needn't heat the water so much," he said as he sat in the bath, "the weather is very warm tonight." His nerves eased and his bones felt like they have loosened when his body became submerged in water. He fought an urge to close his eyes and doze when the fragrance of the jasmine oil Arden has added to his bath filled his sinuses. He wondered if she added the oil because she found his body odour so repulsive.

"I wanted to make a feast but forgot to bring the chicken," she replied, "though there isn't enough flesh and fat left in you, but you'll do." She soaked the sponge in the pail and gently stroked his head with it to wash his hair. She knew he loved it when she coddled him, and her heart seemed set on doing whatever brought him the faintest smile despite that her mind constantly protested it. After having established her independence, she could not have imagined herself tending to a man, bathing and feeding him like a baby. Much to her surprise, she found herself keenly and indulgently treating her husband like a cripple. She fed him with her hand at times even though his hands are much stronger than hers. She helped him into and out of his clothes, cleaned his mess and tended his occasional wounds.