He nods. “Yea, my mom wants us to save the town and came up with an insane idea.” He goes on to explain his mother’s plan for her boys to save Snow Valley, how each brother needed a wife.
“And you all agreed to this?”
He shrugs. “What choice did we have?”
I swallow, suddenly not very hungry. He didn’t ask for me. Didn’t want me. I was thrust upon him. Tears fill my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he says with a groan. “Fuck. Look, I couldn’t piss off my family. It’s not personal. Besides…” he shakes his head. “You’re way too good for me, Hattie. I can already tell. You’re, like, a Christmas card.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask, shaking my head.
“On the outside you’re a pretty picture, and inside you’re filled with sweet words. Only good stuff comes in the mail at Christmas. And you’re living proof of that.”
“If I’m such a perfect package, why do you sound so defeated?”
He runs a hand over his beard. “I’m not marriage material. You deserve better.”
His phone rings before I can respond. He answers it, frowning as he takes in the information from the other end. “Understood,” he says. “We’ll touch base tomorrow.”
He hangs up and shrugs. “Pastor Monroe can’t make it up to the cabin. The snow blocked him in.”
Tears fall down my cheeks. It’s December 1st. It was my one and only Christmas wish to get married today. But how can I explain that to the man who just told me he never wanted me in the first place?
5
Hartley
Well I’ve really gone and done it now.
My bride-to-be is sitting in a puddle of tears after I just clearly said every last thing wrong.
I thought honesty was the best policy — and my words were true. I’m not good enough for her. This sweetheart, who walked around my man-cave of a cabin touching things tenderly, taking it all in as if it mattered. As if I matter. She didn’t fuss over canned chili or judge me for drinking. She took off her coat once the cabin warmed up and is all curves, but covered in a layer of tenderness — a cream-colored sweater, a string of pearls. Corduroy pants in dark red that hug her ass. Everything about her is soft. And it makes my calloused heart seem even less appropriate for a woman like her.
But now she is crying, and I don’t have experience fixing things when it comes to women’s emotions. According to the girls in town, I haven’t exactly treated them with care.
“So I’m guessing my brutally honest approach upset you?”
She wipes her eyes, sniffling. “That’s the most you’ve said to me since I got here.”
I run a hand through my hair, considering how to answer.
Before I can, she keeps talking. “But it isn’t the honesty that’s the issue. The fact you didn’t ask for me, that I can work worth. I can make myself indispensable to you, Hartley. I know I can.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
Her shoulders shake and she begins to sob into her hands. This is all new territory and I hesitate — but only for a moment. I remember my mother’s words out in front of the hardware store this evening: You don’t tend to share your emotions, Hartley. And this stranger is going need you to communicate.
I get out of my chair, and pull hers out too. I take her hands. Trying to be a goddamn man. The man she needs. Because I may be in all-new territory, but so is this little thing. She’s in a new place, with a man she doesn’t know, and there isn’t a soul around she can count on besides me.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her. I lead her to the living room, and sit her down on the couch. “You wanna talk about it?”
“You wanna talk?” She smiles through her tears, and I hand her a tissue.
“My parent have been married nearly forty years. I’ve watched my dad handle my mom when she’s upset. He gives her a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to listen. I want to do the same for you. Now.”
“Forty years?” She wipes her eyes and she sits back in the couch, bending her knees up under her. “My grandparents were married for sixty.”
“They were?”
She nods. “They passed away this year. They raised me, and I always lived with them. I wasn’t able to keep their farmhouse and didn’t have many options. I felt so alone… so that’s why… well, that’s why I’m here, Hartley. I didn’t want to spend Christmas all by myself in some motel… I wanted a family.”
Her words send a jolt of longing through me. I sat at the table telling her I didn’t even want a wife, and here she is spilling her guts, telling me that I am her last hope.