We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 07

We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 07

The days settled into a rhythm after the wedding.

Arthur wasn’t a big talker, but he showed up in every way that mattered.

I cooked, he did the dishes. I did the laundry, he hung it out to dry.

If I went to the store, he came along to carry the bags. The other wives on base noticed, and they all had

opinions: Arthur was completely wrapped around my little finger.

He heard them. He didn’t care.

Once, he left on a short mission, and by the time he got back, the sun was already down. I was in the yard, mending a shirt by hand.

He came through the gate, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn’t “I’m home.” It was, “You’ve lost weight.”

“You were only gone a few days,” I said.

“A few days is all it takes.”

“You caught some sun.”

He touched his face. “Just the sun.”

Then he pulled a small paper-wrapped package from his bag and held it out. “Maple fudge. They make it near where I was stationed.”

I took it. The paper was still warm. He’d carried it against his chest the whole way back.

I unwrapped one and bit into it. It was sweet, soft, and warm all the way through.

Arthur crouched in front of me and watched me eat like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll bring more next time.”

I told him not to bother. He didn’t listen.

After that, every time he came back from a mission, he brought maple fudge.

The kind from the corner shop, the kind from roadside stands, the kind he carried back from towns hours away. Sweet ones, mild ones, soft ones, chewy ones. They filled an entire drawer.

I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out. I couldn’t bring myself to eat them either. I just left them there.

One day he was digging through the drawer for something and saw the pile. He paused.

“Why aren’t you eating them?”

“I can’t bring myself to.”

He looked at me for a second, then reached over and ruffled my hair. “What am I gonna do with you?”

His hand was rough. There were calluses between his thumb and forefinger, thick and hard from years of handling a rifle.

After a moment, his hand dropped back to his knee. His fingers opened and closed, as if he were working up the nerve to do something.

I pretended not to notice.

By then we’d been married for months, and we were still sleeping in separate rooms. He gave me the big

bedroom and took the small one, nothing in it but a cot, a desk, and bare walls.

I told him we should buy him a dresser. He said he didn’t need one.

I told him I’d clear half of my closet for him. He said he didn’t need it.

I asked if he wanted it or not. He said he did.

And then he smiled.

I smiled back. That was the first time I saw him smile not like an officer, but like a fool.

The days moved like that, unhurried, the way a river eases through fall. I thought it would go on forever.

Then one day, I saw Raymond at the base gate.

He stood under the big elm across the road, in civilian clothes, no hat, his hair blown sideways by the wind.

He saw me come out and took a step forward. Then he stopped.

“Eleanor.”

I stood where I was. I didn’t move toward him, and I didn’t back away.

“What is it?”

He opened his mouth, tried to speak, and finally settled on one question. “Are you doing all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“He’s… good to you?”

“He’s good”

Raymond went quiet. His hands went into his pockets, came out, then went back in, like he didn’t know what

to do with them.

“Good,” he said. “That’s good.”

I didn’t answer.

He lingered a moment longer, then turned and walked away.

A few steps out, he looked back. “Eleanor…”

“Is there something else?”

His lips moved, but he shook his head and kept going.

I watched him until he was just a shape in the distance, and a small thing surfaced in my mind.

It was a very small thing.

The winter he fell through the ice, I pulled him out and wrapped my own coat around him. He was shaking

with fever, barely conscious, and he said it. “I’m gonna marry you.”

I thought he’d remember.

He didn’t. That was fine.

I didn’t have to wait for him anymore.