Interview for a Wife by Ruth Ann Nordin

Chapter Eleven

Acouple weeks later, Deanne was totaling a customer’s order when Bill came out from the back room. She glanced over at him as he passed her. She turned her attention back to totaling the cost of the items on the list the customer had given her.

Usually, people came in for a small order, but this man had come in with a long one. The man looked familiar, but she had trouble remembering who he was. So many customers came in and out of the store during the course of the day that it still overwhelmed her at times, though she had to admit it was getting easier.

The man turned to face Bill and tipped his hat.

Bill offered a wave.

When Bill didn’t say anything, Deanne remembered that the man in front of her was Pete, and Pete couldn’t hear. She wondered if Bill had heard her speaking to Pete. Maybe that was why he had come out here. Maybe he wanted to stop her from making a fool of herself in case another customer came into the store.

Face warm, she totaled up the last two items, and then she worked on adding everything together.

Pete stood in front of her, and thankfully, he seemed to have all the patience in the world since his expression remained polite.

When she was done adding everything up, she showed the amount to Pete.

Pete offered a nod then dug his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a few bills and quite a few coins. She was ready to count the money for him when he started doing it himself.

“If you put one of the crates in my lap, I’ll collect some of the things he wants,” Bill told her.

With a nod, she retrieved a crate from under the counter and set it on Bill’s lap. She tried not to make eye contact with him, but when his hand brushed hers, she instinctively did so. He smiled at her and patted her hand. She was so startled that she couldn’t respond.

“Can you show me the list so I know what to put in here?” he asked.

Breaking out of her shock, she nodded and showed him the list Pete had given her.

Bill scanned it then handed it back to her. “I’ll get the things within my reach. You get the rest.”

She cleared her throat. “Alright.”

He went over to a shelf by the window and put a container of coffee grounds into the crate.

Recalling Pete, she returned to the counter. He had finished putting the money on the table. She quickly sorted through it and gave him his change.

He tucked it into his pocket, gave her a smile, and then picked up the crate she had planned to use. He gestured to the items on the high shelves that he wanted then pointed at himself.

Not sure what he wanted, she glanced at Bill. “Do you have any idea what he wants?”

Bill turned his gaze to Pete who looked at him and pointed to the items he wanted on a higher shelf and then pointed to himself.

“I think he’s asking if he can get the things high up by himself,” Bill said. “Nod that it’s fine.”

Deanne did, and Pete’s smile widened before he started to put some of the things on his list into his crate.

“It’s not every day a customer comes in who wants to help out so much,” Bill said. “It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Yes, it is.” She took out another crate from under the counter then admitted, “I forgot he was deaf. You must have thought I was foolish when you came out here and realized there wasn’t anyone else in the store.”

“No, I didn’t think that. Pete does a good job of getting along with people as if he can hear. Once he’s been in here a few more times, you’ll remember him. I know it takes time to get used to people’s faces. When I started working here, I got people’s names wrong all the time.” He chuckled. “I’ll never forget the time I called this woman Frankie. It turned out that Frankie was the nickname she had given her husband. Those two didn’t let me forget it for a whole year.” After a moment, he added, “Do you want to know what her name was?”

“What?”

“Quinn.”

She felt a smile tug at her lips.

“It’s alright to laugh,” he said. “It is funny.”

She gave herself permission to laugh. “I can understand why you mixed their names up. I would have assumed Quinn was the husband’s name, too.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job, Deanne. I hate to say it, but you’re almost doing too good of a job. I came out here because I was bored. There’s nothing else I have to do at the moment. You don’t interrupt me in order to get me to help you with something out here.” He winked at her. “I’m not complaining.”

Her skin warmed in pleasure from the compliment, and she turned her attention to the list so she could help collect the things Pete had purchased.

***

“I wonder if the store might be better laid out if we moved this table over there,” Bill said the next day when there was a lull in activity.

Deanne stopped lining up the dime novels on the shelf and glanced his way. “I thought you were going to organize the buttons and threads in the sewing section,” she said in amusement when she noted that he was on the other side of the store. She placed her hand on her hip and feigned indignation. “I think you’re looking for a reason to get out of working.”

He smiled at her joke. “I can get back to organizing later. This table is bothering me.”

She walked over to the table which had bags of flour, baking soda, and cornstarch on it. “This table has been in this spot since I first came here. Why is it only bothering you now?”

“I didn’t notice where it was until I was in the sewing section. It makes more sense if the cloths for sewing are over here. I was thinking that this table would be better placed by the fruits and vegetables on that side of the store.”

She followed the direction he pointed to and saw the small table holding tobacco, pipes, and cigars that was next to the fruits and vegetables. “Where would you put the tobacco, pipes, and cigars? They don’t fit next to the sewing supplies.”

“That’s a good question.” He left the spot where he was at and wheeled himself across the store.

The store had been arranged to allow him enough room to get from the back room to the front door, and that was pretty much it because some of the tables were angled in a way that he couldn’t pass through them. She wondered if he had stopped to consider this before he started winding his way through the small aisles.

When he ended up getting trapped between the display of jars containing jams and jellies and the barrels of potatoes and preserved meats, she hurried to push one of the barrels aside.

“Sometimes it’s frustrating that I can’t move around easily like I used to,” he muttered as he backed up.

“There’s not much room in here.”

“No, there’s not, but I can’t afford a bigger building.” When he was back in the wider aisle, he added, “It sure would be nice if everything wasn’t so cramped.”

Her heart went out to him. She knew what it felt like to be restricted from doing something she wanted to do. She used to envy some of the women who could come and go from their apartments whenever they wanted. It wasn’t until she came here that she felt she could go anywhere in town without getting her husband’s permission. Also, it was nice that she was able to go wherever she wanted without having to maneuver a wheelchair around.

“If it will help, I can push some things aside so you can get through the store easier,” she offered.

He let out a sigh. “Some of the barrels and sacks are heavy.”

“All I have to do is scoot them along the floor. They aren’t so heavy when I do that. Then you can wheel yourself through here and see where everything is located.”

“That’s a lot of unnecessary work. It would just be easier to have you go through the store and call out where everything is.”

“I can do that.”

She waited for him to tell her where he wanted her to go, but to her surprise, he asked, “Doesn’t it bother you that I can’t walk?”

“Why should it bother me?”

“Because I’m not like other men. I can’t do a lot of things by myself. I need your help to move things around this store. I need your help to get in and out of bed.” He rolled his eyes. “And I don’t want to even think of the chamber pot.”

“Bill, I don’t mind helping you with those things. That’s what I’m here for. I’m your wife.”

“I know you’re my wife, but other wives don’t have to do all of this for their husbands. The most they’re asked to do is take care of the children, keep the house clean, and have meals ready at reasonable times.”

“Some husbands don’t ask their wives to do anything. Some husbands demand they do things. They dictate every hour of the wife’s day. They tell her where she can go and who she can talk to. They tell her what to wear or how to style her hair. And if they don’t have a good day, they act as if she’s the one who ruined it for them. I’d rather have someone like you than what I used to deal with.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t realize you had a bad marriage with your first husband.”

She shrugged. “No one does. They all assume Terry and I were happy because married couples are supposed to be happy. Sometimes I envy you. Your first marriage was a good one.”

“My second marriage is a good one, too,” he softly told her.

She blinked in surprise. It was?

She didn’t know what to say. His expression was so tender that it made her heart leap with hope. She knew he had loved his first wife. She didn’t think there might be a chance he’d love her, too.

She was spared from having to give a response when the door opened and two women entered the store.

Bill hesitated but turned his attention to them. “Good afternoon, Jody and Eunice.” Bill moved his wheelchair so he could face them. “How can we help you today?”

As the women answered, Deanne pushed aside the strange flutter in her stomach. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on how this second marriage was going. She didn’t know how to properly think through their conversation at the moment anyway. She needed time to sort things out. The women had offered her a reprieve.

She took a deep breath then went to help Bill take care of the customers.

***

By the end of the day, Deanne had reorganized the items in the store so that they would be easier for the customers to find. It never ceased to amaze Bill how much Deanne could do. He’d had several men help him with this store since getting it, and he couldn’t think of a single one who was more efficient than her. She had been born for this job.

She really was a lovely woman. Quiet and gentle. She didn’t ask for anything. She was eager to do whatever she could to help, and that went for the store and at home.

Also, it warmed his heart to see how nice she was to his children. He knew he’d been taking a risk when marrying because not all women were kind to their stepchildren. He was sure a good number of them were. Women seemed to have a natural mothering instinct about them. In the small town of Lincoln, there weren’t a lot of widowers with children who remarried, but he recalled how cold Jacob Wilson’s second wife had been to his son. She’d taken care of the boy well enough, but everything she’d done had been out of obligation, rather than sincerity.

Deanne might seem uncertain at times about her role as a mother, but she wanted to be a good one. He didn’t know if she realized it or not, but his children were already developing an attachment to her. Amber didn’t let just anyone touch her hair. The girl was particular about who she let do anything to her. So the fact that Amber was asking Deanne to decorate her hair was significant. As for Vernon, he sure enjoyed those morning pies at breakfast. Thinking about how Vernon kept calling the pancakes that made Bill chuckle. The way to that boy’s heart was through his stomach. Yes, Bill knew Deanne and his children would get along just fine.

Up until today, Deanne hadn’t said anything about her first marriage. Bill hadn’t known why he’d assumed it had been like the one he’d had with Jennifer. He knew some men could be strict with their wives, but he’d never heard of one who went so far as to dictate what his wife wore, how she styled her hair, where she could go, or who she could see. Though Deanne’s voice didn’t convey her resentment at being treated that way, he’d noticed the way her face hardened when she’d talked about her first husband.

At that moment, he realized he didn’t have to feel like he was such a burden to her by having her do things for him he was unable to do by himself. He hadn’t consciously worried about any of it until he’d gotten stuck in that aisle. When he realized he couldn’t get out without her help, all of the embarrassment and awkwardness he’d suppressed had come rushing to the surface. It was to his relief and surprise that he realized she really didn’t mind helping him. She didn’t consider him to be less of a man because he was in a wheelchair.

In that moment, he realized that he was falling in love with her. He hadn’t expected such a thing to happen. When he posted the ad for a wife, he was looking at things from a practical standpoint. He figured he would be offering the woman a place to stay and his protection. Meanwhile, she would help him raise his children and operate the store. He had seen it as a partnership, one in which he had hoped would result in friendship. But somewhere along the way, it had become deeper than that.

And now that he’d realized he felt the stirrings of love, he couldn’t go back to just thinking of her as someone who was here to help him with the store and his children. Things would change now. They wouldn’t change because he was going to will them to; they would change because they had to. Once someone became aware that their feelings had changed in a given situation, it was impossible to stop the process. The feelings would continue to change and adjust.

He looked up from the desk in the back room where he’d been trying—unsuccessfully—to fill out the list of supplies he needed to order. From the front of the store, he could hear Deanne talking to a customer about a recipe the woman was thinking of trying. His lips curled up into a smile. That was a conversation he’d never heard when Archie was helping someone.

He lowered his gaze back to the paper in front of him, but no matter what, he couldn’t focus on it. The conversation he’d had with Deanne earlier that day kept going through his mind, and, as silly as it seemed for a man in his mid-thirties, he had the strange compulsion to spend time with her. He’d thought he was over such schoolboy longings after he fully matured, but apparently, even grown men could entertain youthful fantasies.

He glanced at the pocket watch which was resting on the desk. It would be time to close the store soon. He could work on this tomorrow. He set the paper in the top drawer then left the room.