“What about me?”
“You sit here half the night and work all day. You need sleep, too.”
He smirked, “Do I, now?”
“You do. You can’t go on burning your candle at both ends. I suggest some time away from work, or more time sleeping.” His sly smile made her feel self-conscious; was he making fun of her? “All right, now why are you grinning? Are you laughing at me?” she asked.
He tried to hide the smile showing through his dark sad eyes. The smile was a nice change to the solemn expression he often wore while observing his sleeping wife. “I’m not laughing; I’m amused.”
“Fine, be amused. Just get some sleep.”
“I don’t remember the last time someone told me what to do.” Nathaniel sat back and watched his wife. Marie didn’t go to bed; she sat and allowed him to talk. She couldn’t take away his pain. Perhaps, if he felt comfortable enough to express his thoughts, the ache would lessen, in some way. Nathaniel continued, “I do actually.”
They were no longer looking at one another or touching. Both sat with their heads resting on the plush winged sides of the Queen Anne chairs, watching Sharron. Marie encouraged, “You do?”
“Sharron, she was the only person who was ever able to tell me what to do,” he chuckled, “and how to do it.” He went on describing the love of his life, her incredible beauty and tenacious will. “When I came home from the war, it wasn’t over, but my tour was. She’d written to me, and I her. We still have those letters in a box somewhere. I couldn’t wait to see her again, to hear her voice, and hold her.” He reached forward and picked up her frail hand. “I should show you pictures. I know what you see -- isn’t what I see. I still see the vibrant strong-willed girl I rushed home to marry.”
Marie didn’t comment. The tears she’d shed earlier now had companions. Her heart broke for this man telling a beautiful love story, one which she knew had a cruel sad ending.
“Did I ever tell you, her family didn’t approve of me?”
That was difficult to believe. After all, Nathaniel Rawls was an esteemed businessman. “No, why not?”
“Well, first her father didn’t like me,” and with a chuckle, “Believe me, the feeling was mutual. But mostly, it was because they had money. Not a lot, but they were comfortable. I barely had two pennies to rub together. He didn’t believe I could provide for his daughter, in the style to which she was accustomed.”
Marie grinned, “You proved him wrong!”
“I did.” His voice didn’t sound triumphant, more melancholy.
“Did he ever admit he was wrong?”
“No. And that’s understandable; real men don’t apologize. Besides, he died before I made my first million. This,” he gestured with his hands, “has all been for her. And now, I have to keep going for her. I refuse to back away from any of it. Even if she isn’t with me, I’m still doing it all for her.”
“She still loves you.” It was surprisingly easy to carry on heartfelt conversations while not looking at one another. “Your voice excites her. Her heart beats stronger when you’re near.”
“Do you think she still knows?”
“Some days, some times. When I first started, she liked to look through old photo albums. I think it was her way to hold on to memories. She’d tell me stories about the two of you, when you were young, and about Mr. Samuel and Mr. Anton. You two had -- I mean have -- something very few other people are ever blessed to experience.”
Nathaniel looked at his watch, “Marie, it’s after three thirty. You go get some sleep. I’ll stay here until morning. You can relieve me in about three hours.”
When she didn’t move, he stood and took her hand. She noticed the gleam in his eyes. He was thinking about another time and another place. “I mean it. I want you to get some rest.”
She allowed herself to stand, her hand still in his. “Good night, Nathaniel.” While in the presence of others, she addressed him formally. However, during their private talks, the Mr. Rawls was long gone.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t right. Nevertheless, as he stood there holding Marie’s warm soft hand and their chests touched, with only her robe covered nightgown and his robe covered t-shirt separating them, something changed. They both knew it, but neither one uttered a word.
Nathaniel Rawls took what he wanted in life. What he wanted, above all else, was his wife. Life was cruel, and he couldn’t reach her, no matter how long or how hard he tried. He’d worked his entire life to give her the best of everything. However, he couldn’t give her health.
Standing in front of him was everything Sharron had been and had ceased to be. In his hand was energy, vibrant and strong-willed, embodied in a lovely caring young woman. As he looked down into her soft gray eyes he noticed a sparkle only recently doused with tears.
Although he still held tight to her hand and their hearts beat frantically within their touching chests, Nathaniel watched as Marie turned her twinkling eyes away. He didn’t want to lose that vivacity. It was more life than he’d be held in a long time. He gently raised her chin and spoke with a deep throaty voice. In all of their talks, she’d never heard this tone before, “You need to go to your room. May I suggest locking your door?”
His tenor terrified her. Not that Marie feared Nathaniel; she feared the desires stirring within her. After all, she hadn’t been with a man for a long time, and never consensually. For the first time in her life, she experienced consensual thoughts and feelings. How could she possibly be thinking like this, with Ms. Sharron only two feet away?
“You sit here half the night and work all day. You need sleep, too.”
He smirked, “Do I, now?”
“You do. You can’t go on burning your candle at both ends. I suggest some time away from work, or more time sleeping.” His sly smile made her feel self-conscious; was he making fun of her? “All right, now why are you grinning? Are you laughing at me?” she asked.
He tried to hide the smile showing through his dark sad eyes. The smile was a nice change to the solemn expression he often wore while observing his sleeping wife. “I’m not laughing; I’m amused.”
“Fine, be amused. Just get some sleep.”
“I don’t remember the last time someone told me what to do.” Nathaniel sat back and watched his wife. Marie didn’t go to bed; she sat and allowed him to talk. She couldn’t take away his pain. Perhaps, if he felt comfortable enough to express his thoughts, the ache would lessen, in some way. Nathaniel continued, “I do actually.”
They were no longer looking at one another or touching. Both sat with their heads resting on the plush winged sides of the Queen Anne chairs, watching Sharron. Marie encouraged, “You do?”
“Sharron, she was the only person who was ever able to tell me what to do,” he chuckled, “and how to do it.” He went on describing the love of his life, her incredible beauty and tenacious will. “When I came home from the war, it wasn’t over, but my tour was. She’d written to me, and I her. We still have those letters in a box somewhere. I couldn’t wait to see her again, to hear her voice, and hold her.” He reached forward and picked up her frail hand. “I should show you pictures. I know what you see -- isn’t what I see. I still see the vibrant strong-willed girl I rushed home to marry.”
Marie didn’t comment. The tears she’d shed earlier now had companions. Her heart broke for this man telling a beautiful love story, one which she knew had a cruel sad ending.
“Did I ever tell you, her family didn’t approve of me?”
That was difficult to believe. After all, Nathaniel Rawls was an esteemed businessman. “No, why not?”
“Well, first her father didn’t like me,” and with a chuckle, “Believe me, the feeling was mutual. But mostly, it was because they had money. Not a lot, but they were comfortable. I barely had two pennies to rub together. He didn’t believe I could provide for his daughter, in the style to which she was accustomed.”
Marie grinned, “You proved him wrong!”
“I did.” His voice didn’t sound triumphant, more melancholy.
“Did he ever admit he was wrong?”
“No. And that’s understandable; real men don’t apologize. Besides, he died before I made my first million. This,” he gestured with his hands, “has all been for her. And now, I have to keep going for her. I refuse to back away from any of it. Even if she isn’t with me, I’m still doing it all for her.”
“She still loves you.” It was surprisingly easy to carry on heartfelt conversations while not looking at one another. “Your voice excites her. Her heart beats stronger when you’re near.”
“Do you think she still knows?”
“Some days, some times. When I first started, she liked to look through old photo albums. I think it was her way to hold on to memories. She’d tell me stories about the two of you, when you were young, and about Mr. Samuel and Mr. Anton. You two had -- I mean have -- something very few other people are ever blessed to experience.”
Nathaniel looked at his watch, “Marie, it’s after three thirty. You go get some sleep. I’ll stay here until morning. You can relieve me in about three hours.”
When she didn’t move, he stood and took her hand. She noticed the gleam in his eyes. He was thinking about another time and another place. “I mean it. I want you to get some rest.”
She allowed herself to stand, her hand still in his. “Good night, Nathaniel.” While in the presence of others, she addressed him formally. However, during their private talks, the Mr. Rawls was long gone.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t right. Nevertheless, as he stood there holding Marie’s warm soft hand and their chests touched, with only her robe covered nightgown and his robe covered t-shirt separating them, something changed. They both knew it, but neither one uttered a word.
Nathaniel Rawls took what he wanted in life. What he wanted, above all else, was his wife. Life was cruel, and he couldn’t reach her, no matter how long or how hard he tried. He’d worked his entire life to give her the best of everything. However, he couldn’t give her health.
Standing in front of him was everything Sharron had been and had ceased to be. In his hand was energy, vibrant and strong-willed, embodied in a lovely caring young woman. As he looked down into her soft gray eyes he noticed a sparkle only recently doused with tears.
Although he still held tight to her hand and their hearts beat frantically within their touching chests, Nathaniel watched as Marie turned her twinkling eyes away. He didn’t want to lose that vivacity. It was more life than he’d be held in a long time. He gently raised her chin and spoke with a deep throaty voice. In all of their talks, she’d never heard this tone before, “You need to go to your room. May I suggest locking your door?”
His tenor terrified her. Not that Marie feared Nathaniel; she feared the desires stirring within her. After all, she hadn’t been with a man for a long time, and never consensually. For the first time in her life, she experienced consensual thoughts and feelings. How could she possibly be thinking like this, with Ms. Sharron only two feet away?
