Chapter 2: Woman of the House

Saturday morning, after one more round of morning love to say goodbye to their bed, they checked out. They ate lunch in another of the hotel’s restaurants. They were back in Evanston in the early afternoon. Andy set down their luggage to give two short rings on the bell. Then he opened the door with his own key. He carried her across the threshold. She greeted the family while he took their luggage up to his -- now their -- room.

“What the...” he shouted above her head.

“It’s a new mattress,” his dad began shouting up there. Andy came downstairs.

“Since there’s only one of me and there’s two of you,” he continued in a normal voice, “I figured that the double bed belonged in there. It’s a new mattress, and there are new sheets.” Well, a double bed had been more fun.

“You’re very kind,” she told Mr. Trainor -- Mr. Trainor senior.

“Selfish. The more comfortable you are, the likelier you are to visit.”

After a little more talk, she walked over to her house -- her parents’ house. Andy looked at her and then at his dad before she left. He seemed to want to go with her -- to protect her? -- but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Mom was, in fact, nice. All their recent battles were over. She was married to Andy, and Mom could have no objection to her sleeping with him. Mom believed in monogamy, and that meant she wouldn’t urge Marilyn to seek another man. The wedding was over; they’d each got some of their way on that. But those battles were definitely in the past.

“It seems your sisters all had nice things to say about Andy,” Mom said. Well, what did you expect on his wedding day. Zates could be critical, even catty, but they didn’t dump on your decision when it was clearly your decision. Besides, the Zates present had included Barbara and Brittany.

“Yes, Mom, Andy’s fairly popular with the chapter. They see him around; they see how he treats me; they see him being helpful.”

“Are other boys so violent, then?”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking of violence. Although some girls on campus have been date-raped. We had a freshman this year get groped at a school dance. And a few boys get violent in other ways. But those are the minority. Verbal abuse is much more frequent. Well, Andy doesn’t do any of those things. Besides which, he is formally polite -- carrying packages, opening doors. They’ve never seen him drunk; I’ve never seen him drunk.

“Those are the negatives he lacks. Beyond that he’s nice.”

“Well, dear...” Marilyn was trying to sell an issue which had been decided. She changed the subject.

“I’m really grateful for all you put into the wedding.” Which lumped the cash in neatly with the planning. Well, some of the planning had been helpful. “It’s a day that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.”

“Well, dear, you’re staying there?” Mom changed to another topic.

“We could hardly stay here.” Pete the Pervert would be listening at their door.

“You will come to dinner, you and Andy?”

“Sure. Do you want to invite Andy’s family, too?”

“Well, we do owe Jim Trainor a dinner.” Now, that was interesting. She couldn’t mean the rehearsal dinner.

“If you invite us and him this week, you should really invite his daughters, too.” That would cram the table, though. Mom wouldn’t deliberately choose a night when Pete was otherwise engaged. “You’ve barely met the girls, but they’re quite nice.”

“Well, why don’t we say you and Andy for Monday?”

“That’s fine. I’ll convey the invitation.”

“The wife makes the couple’s social engagements by herself.”

“Yeah, Mom, but I’m a very new wife. I don’t know what other commitments he has. We didn’t spend the week merging our calendars. We had other things to do.”

“And you complain about Pete! Don’t think I believe for one minute that you were that busy that way for an entire week.”

“You’re right on both counts, Mom. I suppose I should manage his social life. It’s just that all my thoughts about social life culminated one week ago.”

“Well, on your social life of one week ago, I’ve got the wedding gifts with a list of who gave them in your room upstairs. I must say the toaster oven from the MacGregors impressed me. They were invited simply as the parents of a bridesmaid. Half the church members who attended gave nothing.”

“They brought their attendance, their witness. Loads of them didn’t go to the reception, either.” And their attendance at the ceremony hadn’t cost the family anything. “As to Barbara’s parents, she was one of the girls Andy tutored. They might be grateful for that. But you’re right. I have to get on the thank-you notes. But let’s put that off ‘til Monday.”

Back at Andy’s house -- now their house -- she rang the bell. April opened the door.

“It’s Marilyn!” she yelled to the rest of the family.

“I’m sorry, Marilyn,” Mr. Trainor said, “I didn’t give you this.” He got a key out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Too many other things on my mind.”

“Or Alzheimer’s,” Molly said.

“What’s that? I forget what we were talking about.” His children laughed.

“Before I forget, Andy, Mom invited you and me to dinner Monday. I said a tentative yes. Are you free?”

“As a bird. I don’t have anything to do except with the people here.”

“Well,” said his dad, “you need to get some formalities taken care of.”

“Yes, but Marilyn is one of the people here. I thought we’d go down to the bank Monday to get her name on the account. Is it okay to wait until we’re back to do that on the Champaign account?” That seemed to be addressed to her.

“Quite all right.” Andy had two bank accounts, savings up here and checking in Champaign.

“If they’re having you over, I think we ought to invite your family. How does Wednesday sound?” Mr. Trainor looked around. “I know you can’t speak for your family, Marilyn, but does anyone here have any conflicts?”

“You might want to invite just my parents.”

“And not Pete?” asked Molly. Well, for a great many reasons, not least Molly’s interest in him.

“Listen, my new sister, I don’t mind if your dad invites him. That’s his choice. But you be careful. I know that guy. Don’t get in any back seats with him.”

“Marilyn!”

“I’m not saying to stay out of back seats with boys in general. That would be not only hypocritical, but ... You’re a high-school graduate?”

“Yeah.”

“Years too late.” How many years she wouldn’t say while both April and her dad were listening. “I’m saying watch out for this particular guy. I’ve heard him talk about girls, and he’s only out to score.”

“He did tell me,” Andy said, “that the game was getting sex from a woman without marrying her. According to him, I’d lost. I told him that was like telling Babe Ruth he’d lost because he hadn’t scored a touchdown. I’d won the World Series in the game I was playing.” That was sweet of Andy.

“The whole family,” said Mr. Trainor. “Pete will sit next to Molly, and I’ll get a set of handcuffs for him.” His kids laughed again. When he called to give the invitation, he confirmed that she and Andy would go there on Monday.

Dinner was order-out pizza. Everybody got to choose one topping. She was asked last, which surprised her at first. Mr. Trainor seemed to defer to her so regularly. Then she realized that the last place was a privilege. If your first choice was named by somebody else, then you got it and your second choice, too. Even so, five toppings on a pizza seemed excessive. She realized, though, that the Trainors were used to four.

That night, she saw the bed for the first time. The frame was old and solid, made of a dark wood. The mattress felt new. Its surface was flat and firm. The sheets were new; you could see the remains of the creases that had been folds in the package. Conscious of the ears around them, they made slow, quiet love. When her first climaxes hit, Andy was kissing her. When he was in her, however, and the feeling was most intense, his face was inches from hers, and their mouths were not aligned.

“Ah!” she cried as the lightning struck.

“Oh, darling,” he said as he pulsed within her. He was heavy on her as she recovered. She delighted in his weight but began worrying about the noise they’d made.

“Do you think they heard us?” she whispered in his ear.

“No.” But he sounded doubtful. They arranged themselves in the spoon. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair. She hugged his arm and he hugged her in response. He loved her, and she loved him. She’d been silly to worry about the ratio.

Sunday morning was hectic with five people trying to shower with only one bathroom. In deference to his family, Andy didn’t even suggest showering together. The Trainors had a small room with a toilet, sink, and medicine cabinet downstairs. She put her at-home makeup, as opposed to what she carried in her purse, on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet. The only other materials there were a bottle of Tylenol and a package of bandages.

When they were getting their seats in church, she suddenly realized that she wasn’t sitting with the Trainor family. She was sitting there as part of the Trainor family. After church, people came around to congratulate them, and Mom and Dad stood near to share the congratulations. Mr. Trainor had anticipated this and had made his reservations a half hour later than usual.

She rode in the back seat between Andy and April when the entire family was in the car. On the way back, April asked her, “What brought on that problem at the last minute? At the wedding, I mean. I thought you loved Andy.”

“I do, and I did then. I was just being silly.”

“It wasn’t silly at all,” Mr. Trainor said from the front seat. “Marriage is a leap into the dark, a lifetime commitment. She wasn’t ready for marriage, and she realized that at the last moment. But most marriages occur when the couple isn’t ready for marriage. Indeed, you can’t really be ready for marriage before it happens, no more than a new-born infant is ready for birth. It’s almost traditional for brides to panic at the last minute. It’s traditional for someone to calm them down if that happens.”

“Your father talked me though it.”

“I dealt with the expressed problem, and that got her attention off the underlying problem, which was that it is a leap into the dark.”

“What was the problem?” Andy asked. “The expressed problem, that is.”

“Well,” she told him. “I decided that, however much I loved you, it wasn’t as much as you loved me. You’d given me an image of love, and I wasn’t living up to it.”

“I do love you.”

“And I love you, too. I’m just worried that it’s not so much.”

“If it would make you happier, Marilyn,” his dad said, “I suspect that much of what Andy calls love is really selfishness. He wants to have you in his life.”

“But I want her to be happy, too. All right, that’s a requirement for the other. I couldn’t have her long if I make her unhappy. But it’s a separate desire. I want to see Marilyn happy. I want to make her happy.”

“Well, you can’t,” his dad told him. “One person can make another unhappy. One person can’t make another happy, although they can provide the circumstances that tend to increase happiness in that person.”

“Well, I’ll try that, then.”

“And if your wife is wise, she’ll let you know what those circumstances are.” Which was advice she should take.

That night, he held her in the spoon position with his hand between her legs. She moaned into a pillow as the lightning struck again and again. When, finally, he entered her, he rested inside while stroking her still.

“I love you; I love you,” he whispered when he finally moved inside her. His motions and her squirming responses seemed to go on forever. When he moaned and thrust harder against her, she climaxed as well. He tucked the sheet over her. She was partly recovered when she felt him, no longer stiff, slide out. She thought of the conversation that afternoon in the car.

“Well, darling,” she said, “you’ve learned one way to make me happy, anyway.”

“I love you, you know. This makes us both happy.”

Monday, they ate breakfast with Andy’s dad. The girls were still asleep, and she and Andy wore nightwear. It was the first time she’d seen Andy in pajamas. When he was with her, even when the room was cold, he put on a robe -- if that. After breakfast, still before the girls awoke, they had separate showers.

Mrs. Bryant came in before Molly and April got up.

“You didn’t need to make the bed,” Mrs. Bryant told her later when they were alone. “I do that. I do all the cleaning and straightening except Andy’s bookshelves and wastepaper.”

“I didn’t. Andy did. You have enough to do with four rooms occupied and five mouths to feed. By the way, Andy and I won’t be at dinner tonight.” She figured that the news of the guests wasn’t for her to give. This wasn’t her employee; she was a guest in the house.

“I’m not worried about amounts. With Andy home, all the left-overs will be eaten before they spoil.”

The girls wanted to go shopping when they had risen and eaten. They actually wanted Andy to drive them.

“Let’s walk,” Andy replied. “It’s not far, and I want you to know the way back. I think Marilyn and I will be back for lunch,” he told Mrs. Bryant. April and Molly said that they’d eat in town. They were, at least, going to do their shopping in Evanston. “Did Marilyn tell you?” Andy asked Mrs. Bryant. “We’re having three guests Wednesday. Eight in all. Her family.”

They walked the girls to downtown Evanston. Andy took her on to his bank, and they got her name on the savings account. It really was a brand-new account in both their names. The bank closed his old account. He handed her the passbook as they were leaving.

“Which of us should keep this? You’re in charge of chores. Handling the money might not be quite the same thing, but it makes sense for you to assign that as well.”

“You should keep it. Andy it’s your money.”

“Not since the ninth. Is it okay if we don’t officially transfer car title? I think there’s a charge for that.”

“Andy, it’s perfectly all right.”

“I’ve given you the keys, right?” he asked as they went out the door. He reached to his key ring. “Nope! They’re here. Sorry about that.” He handed her three keys. She gave him her key ring instead of accepting them.

“Take your apartment keys off, too, will you? I’m bad about that.” Andy was always so skilled with key rings. She always risked breaking a fingernail. This time, too, he got both old keys off and three new keys on.

“The one which isn’t a car key is to the garage. You can use it, but maybe you want to ask me or dad to get the garage open if it’s closed. Anyway, if there’s anything else I’ve forgotten, let me know.”

“Well, it is an awfully long time since I was kissed.” So he took care of that, right on the street.

They ate lunch with Mrs. Bryant. The main course was sloppy joes. They were flavored with green pepper, onions, and at least one spice out of a jar. Andy took three and loaded the buns heavily. There was also a salad. The beverage was water, which rather surprised her. Her family had always had soda on hand for the kids. Well, maybe she wasn’t a kid anymore, but a married woman.

“Are you tired of the baked ham, Mrs. Trainor?”

“Marilyn, please. The baked ham was six months ago, and it was delicious.”

“I thought I’d do that, then. Your parents have had the roast beef, Ms. Marilyn, and the ham will serve any number.” Marilyn accepted the name silently. She figured that ‘Ms. Marilyn’ was as good a compromise as she was going to get. “Andy,” Mrs. Bryant continued. “could you get a shopping list for me?”

“Sure, but you should really ask Marilyn for my services. She assigns chores in this marriage.” Andy was going way too far, and she gave him a look to show it. “Anything else you want to add?” That was addressed to her.

“Well, maybe. Mrs. Bryant, do you have eggs and bacon?”

“Bacon. If you want many eggs, Andy should add them to the list.” Andy did so and left. Mrs. Bryant got up to put the dishes in the sink and the left-over sloppy-joe mix in the refrigerator. “Did the mister tell you that I won’t go in your room if the door is closed? If you want anything cleaned up, leave the door open.” And when she didn’t want to be disturbed, she could just shut the door. When Andy got back, she led him upstairs. Behind the closed door, they had a nice cuddle. They were leaving sex to the nighttime, but privacy invited the sort of intimacy that they’d had before they’d gone all the way. And even though they did stop, the fact that they didn’t have to stop added spice to their kisses.

When the girls got back, Molly had bought a charm for her bracelet, and April had bought nothing.

“In a tenth of the time you took,” Andy said, “I filled a large grocery bag and carried it home.”

“Andy,” she said, “they weren’t buying. They were shopping.” He looked puzzled. “Males!” It wasn’t just Andy who couldn’t see the pleasure. Well, if time would allow, she’d take them down to the Loop and show them real shopping.

Before dinner, they went upstairs to change. They got a little more cuddling in, too, but she came down looking, if she said so herself, suave. It was a mild day, and they walked. Andy took an umbrella just in case.

Mom and Dad were on their best behavior. Dinner was Mom’s lamb chops, which Marilyn knew were a lot of trouble to cook.

“Yummy,” she said. “I never got the hang of these.”

“If you’d like, I could give you one more practice session.”

“Mom. We’ve planned out our budget. I’m not buying a single lamb chop in the next year. What I need practice on is mac and cheese. Now, if we end up in Evanston...”

“Are you planning to work in the Chicago region?” Dad asked.

“Good question,” Andy said. “But one that it’s way too early to answer.”

“Look,” Mom said, “you two can discuss business later. What did you and your father think of the wedding?”

“Well, Dad can speak for himself. He hasn’t expressed any opinion except to accept that Marilyn is married to me. And, really, that’s what I came away with. It was a fine ceremony and a fine reception, but the important part was, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife.’”

“You sound like you’d have preferred a justice of the peace.”

“Ah, but the issue I cared about was the woman I married. I think Marilyn wanted that ceremony and that reception. Certainly, she wanted her sisters there. I get the impression that Zeta is important to you, too.”

“Yes,” Mom admitted. “It is.”

“Well, while this is simply news you can send your chapter, Marilyn’s chapter was well represented. I expect everyone will have heard every detail by the end of August.”