bedroom, her rose perfume filling the air. “Let’s go outside.” With a shudder of the back door we were free: out and running across the bumpy grass to the edge of the yard.
“What do you want to do?” he said.
“How aboutyou teach me to drive?” I laughed. “If I’m to be your wife, I’ll need to be at least your equal, maybe more.”
“For now let’s try a bike.” Peter laughed. “Let’s ride the tandem bike.” Peter yanked my hair loose from its pins. “Come
on
.” We dragged the heavy bicycle out of the garden shed, pulled on gloves, and off we flew over the bumpy New England roads, my hair flying as we pedaled up hills and down dales.
What seemed like an hour later we reached a field, where he dropped the bicycle on the grass with a chunky
thonk
that I felt in my legs. We were sweating.
“I’m no athlete,” he said. “That’s probably the last time we do that.”
“I’ll drive next time,” I laughed. “Put me up front. I can steer like a madwoman.”
“I’ll bet you’re a menace behind the wheel.” He trapped my wrists above my head so I couldn’t move.
Then he put some wildflowers in my hands.
“Your favorites, missy.”
The buttercups’ rounded flower heads were dense with something that burst straight from the earth’s center.
Then he opened my mouth and slid in a yellow bit of flower.
“Are you hungry?” he said.
I remembered how, when I was young, I pounded the table, craving meats, sweets, anything to put in my speechless mouth. I had the same feeling with Peter. Some new hunger flooded me.
“Starving,” I said.
Chapter Sixteen
B y a slight quiver in my nostrils I could sense a storm’s approach. A flood of earth odors washes through me when a storm closes in. So I was not surprised when rain started to fall later that afternoon as Peter and I paused on the back lawn, crickets shirring open the hot air. Peter lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. “Time to face the music.” He nodded toward the house.
“You know I can’t hear music.” I laughed.
“Excuse me for forgetting your handicap. But you’re lucky you can’t hear Annie stomping around inside.”
We both paused on the back steps.
“Do you think I can’t tell how angry she is?” The staccato of Annie’s footsteps crisscrossing the kitchen sent splinters through the floorboards of the porch.
“You want to face her alone? I’ll come with you.” Peter came up the steps.
“No. She’d tear you apart. I’d better go first.”
“Helen,” he said. “You act so strong. It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for my help. I’m here when you need me.”
The smoke from his cigarette smelled bitter.
It’s strange to me now, how as I walked through the downpour of warm rain and into the house my acute senses felt nothing to fear at all. The truth is that when I moved into the house to meet Mother and Annie I felt stronger, more alive, than either of them had ever been. The sweet scent of corn, the bitter tang of radishes, the warm scent of bread told me Annie was back with the groceries. She thumped and banged cabinet doors open in the kitchen as she unpacked the bags, and when I felt my way into the room Annie was so annoyed at seeing me that she slammed the Frenchdoors.
She herded me into the stuffy kitchen, where she drew the curtains against the rain. “Don’t make me ask, Helen. Just spit it out. Where have you been?”
“I’ll help with the groceries.” I tried to pry a bulky bag from her arms.
“Stop.” She dropped the bag to the counter. “Stop trying to distract me. Just tell me the truth.”
“The truth is I’m worried about you. How was your test?”
“It was nothing. A poke in the arm and I was done. A whole day wasted.”
“Today wasn’t wasted …”
“You’re right, Helen. Today wasn’t wasted. I left the house at six a.m. with my chest feeling like it was on fire, and I came home five hours later with my ears about to burst: your mother
“What do you want to do?” he said.
“How aboutyou teach me to drive?” I laughed. “If I’m to be your wife, I’ll need to be at least your equal, maybe more.”
“For now let’s try a bike.” Peter laughed. “Let’s ride the tandem bike.” Peter yanked my hair loose from its pins. “Come
on
.” We dragged the heavy bicycle out of the garden shed, pulled on gloves, and off we flew over the bumpy New England roads, my hair flying as we pedaled up hills and down dales.
What seemed like an hour later we reached a field, where he dropped the bicycle on the grass with a chunky
thonk
that I felt in my legs. We were sweating.
“I’m no athlete,” he said. “That’s probably the last time we do that.”
“I’ll drive next time,” I laughed. “Put me up front. I can steer like a madwoman.”
“I’ll bet you’re a menace behind the wheel.” He trapped my wrists above my head so I couldn’t move.
Then he put some wildflowers in my hands.
“Your favorites, missy.”
The buttercups’ rounded flower heads were dense with something that burst straight from the earth’s center.
Then he opened my mouth and slid in a yellow bit of flower.
“Are you hungry?” he said.
I remembered how, when I was young, I pounded the table, craving meats, sweets, anything to put in my speechless mouth. I had the same feeling with Peter. Some new hunger flooded me.
“Starving,” I said.
Chapter Sixteen
B y a slight quiver in my nostrils I could sense a storm’s approach. A flood of earth odors washes through me when a storm closes in. So I was not surprised when rain started to fall later that afternoon as Peter and I paused on the back lawn, crickets shirring open the hot air. Peter lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. “Time to face the music.” He nodded toward the house.
“You know I can’t hear music.” I laughed.
“Excuse me for forgetting your handicap. But you’re lucky you can’t hear Annie stomping around inside.”
We both paused on the back steps.
“Do you think I can’t tell how angry she is?” The staccato of Annie’s footsteps crisscrossing the kitchen sent splinters through the floorboards of the porch.
“You want to face her alone? I’ll come with you.” Peter came up the steps.
“No. She’d tear you apart. I’d better go first.”
“Helen,” he said. “You act so strong. It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for my help. I’m here when you need me.”
The smoke from his cigarette smelled bitter.
It’s strange to me now, how as I walked through the downpour of warm rain and into the house my acute senses felt nothing to fear at all. The truth is that when I moved into the house to meet Mother and Annie I felt stronger, more alive, than either of them had ever been. The sweet scent of corn, the bitter tang of radishes, the warm scent of bread told me Annie was back with the groceries. She thumped and banged cabinet doors open in the kitchen as she unpacked the bags, and when I felt my way into the room Annie was so annoyed at seeing me that she slammed the Frenchdoors.
She herded me into the stuffy kitchen, where she drew the curtains against the rain. “Don’t make me ask, Helen. Just spit it out. Where have you been?”
“I’ll help with the groceries.” I tried to pry a bulky bag from her arms.
“Stop.” She dropped the bag to the counter. “Stop trying to distract me. Just tell me the truth.”
“The truth is I’m worried about you. How was your test?”
“It was nothing. A poke in the arm and I was done. A whole day wasted.”
“Today wasn’t wasted …”
“You’re right, Helen. Today wasn’t wasted. I left the house at six a.m. with my chest feeling like it was on fire, and I came home five hours later with my ears about to burst: your mother
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