Interview for a Wife by Ruth Ann Nordin

Chapter Seven

Deanne followed Bill and Morgan into one of the houses in town.

“This is all on one floor,” Morgan said. “It’s smaller than the others, but I think it might suit someone who’s in a wheelchair. It only has two bedrooms. If you had more little ones, I know someone who can help you add another room to this house.”

Deanne clasped her hands together but forced herself to remain quiet. Why did everyone assume all women could have children?

“The parlor looks nice,” Bill said as he scanned the empty room with a fireplace and dusty floors. “The window is large. I like that. It lets in plenty of sunlight.” He glanced at Deanne. “What do you think?”

Deanne felt herself relax at the gentle tone in his voice. “I like the large window.”

“If you like lots of light, you’ll love the kitchen,” Morgan said. “Two windows are in there, and it overlooks the backyard. The yard has a fence, Bill. Your children will be able to play there without running off.”

Since Bill looked at her expectantly, Deanne left the room first and followed Morgan to the kitchen, which, as he had promised, had plenty of light. The yard was a good size. She thought Amber and Vernon might like playing there. They might even one day like climbing the large tree. She remembered how fun it’d been to climb trees when she was a child.

“Is this a new cookstove?” Bill asked.

She turned her attention from the window and watched as Bill opened the oven door.

“It might as well be. It’s only a year old,” Morgan said.

“It looks like it was hardly used,” Bill replied. “Was the previous owner someone who didn’t like to cook?”

“Mrs. Quincy did cook, but she was also a meticulous housekeeper,” Morgan said. “The only reason there’s dust is because it’s hard to convince people to come to Lincoln. Most people want to go to Omaha. That’s where all the big stores and restaurants are.”

Bill nodded.

Morgan was right. One of the reasons Deanne had chosen to marry Terry was that he’d been in a big enough city to offer things she’d never had in her small Kentucky town. She’d figured even if the marriage wasn’t that great, she would still enjoy being in a big city. In the end, it hadn’t made any difference.

“Mr. Quincy loved working with his hands,” Morgan continued. “He put this dining cabinet in here.”

Deanne turned her attention to the large oak cabinet in the corner of the room. Morgan opened the glass doors to show them the shelves and then pulled open the drawers.

“Mr. Quincy also put in the countertops and sink.” Morgan went to the handle over the sink, and after a few pumps, water came out. “He knew how to do quite a few things. One might consider him a jack-of-all-trades.” His gaze went to Deanne. “I think you’ll like the improvements he made around here. Mr. and Mrs. Quincy moved to Iowa. They have one daughter. She’s married to a farmer out there. A few months ago, they decided to move out there so they wouldn’t miss being with their grandchildren.”

Deanne offered a smile, though she had to resist the urge to groan. Again, more children and grandchildren. Was there no one but her who wasn’t able to have them?

“I didn’t realize they moved for that reason,” Bill said.

“I only know because they gave me this house to sell on their behalf,” Morgan replied. “They’d be glad to have this off their hands. But,” he lifted his hand and grinned, “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. We have a couple more houses to go to.” He glanced between them. “Would you like to see the other rooms, or have you lost interest?”

Bill looked at Deanne. “Do you like what you’re seeing so far?”

“Yes,” Deanne said. “I’d like to see more of it.”

Bill nodded then turned his gaze back to Morgan. “You said there are two bedrooms?”

“There are,” Morgan said. “They’re this way.”

Deanne followed him and saw that the windows in the other two rooms had more space in them than it seemed from looking at the house from the outside.

“The windows are easy to open,” Morgan said as he went over to one and lifted it.

The wind swept into the space and cooled the hot room.

“It’s easy to adjust how much you want it open, too,” Morgan added then demonstrated this fact. He glanced at Deanne. “Do you want to try it?”

She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I can see how easy it is.”

He shut the window. “The fireplace in the parlor has been cleaned out and is ready to use.” He paused then added, “I think that’s all unless you got any questions.”

Deanne had no questions, so she glanced at Bill.

“Can I get a ramp put in at the front and back doors?” Bill asked.

Morgan nodded. “I can get those set up if you take the place, but I advise you to check out the other two houses first.”

“Part of whether or not I put in a vote for this place all depends on if I can get a ramp,” Bill told him.

“I can arrange for a ramp to be put in at any house you pick. That’s an easy thing to do,” Morgan replied. “The nice thing about most of the houses in town is that all the rooms are on one floor. You got a couple that have an upstairs and a downstairs, but for the most part, they’re all suitable for someone in your condition.”

Well, that was good news. While it might make picking the house Bill wanted more difficult, it would be nice for him to have more than one place to choose from. Deanne had already decided she would pick whatever house Bill wanted. It didn’t matter to her what kind of home she lived in. What she wanted most was to be content, and being content was more about the people she was around than the kind of roof that was over her head.

They left the house and went with Morgan to the other two houses, and in the end, she realized that Bill had liked the first house they went to the most. It had larger windows, the nicest backyard, and the cookstove that was practically new. When Bill asked for her opinion, she picked that one. Bill seemed happy, and he made arrangements to meet Morgan at the bank tomorrow to sign the paperwork for the home. She was glad for him. Soon, they would be living here in town, and he would be spared the hassle of always going back and forth to town in a slow wagon.

Now he could wheel himself to the store and to his house. That would give him a greater sense of freedom and independence. Those were two valuable things, and being here with Bill, and seeing the world through the perspective of someone who was bound to a wheelchair, she was beginning to understand how wonderful those things were.

***

A few days later, Amber turned to Bill as Henry and a couple of other men brought in a few more pieces of furniture into their new home.

“I don’t want to live here,” Amber told Bill. “I want to go back home at the farm.”

Bill and Amber were in the corner of the parlor so they could be out of the way of the men. Vernon was with Deanne and Marsha in the kitchen. From the way things smelled, they were brewing coffee and cooking something. He had thought Amber might want to run in and join them, but she’d chosen to stay with him in the parlor.

“I know you miss your mother, honey, but I can’t stay all the way out there on the farm anymore,” Bill said. “You remember what I told you about my legs. I can’t walk, and it gets hard to go back and forth to town all the time.”

“But Mama was there,” she said.

“Yes, she was. Just because we’re going to a new home, it doesn’t mean we’ll leave her. She’s still right here.” He tapped her heart. “And here.” He tapped his heart. “No matter what happens, no one can take that away from us. We don’t need a house for that.”

She let out a sigh that told him she didn’t like the answer but wasn’t going to argue his point. He didn’t know what else he could say, so he grew silent. He hadn’t thought this move was going to be hard on Amber, but she did remember her mother. That house must have been a comfort to her in ways Bill hadn’t realized.

He caught sight of a crate filled with the things he and Jennifer had once kept in their bedroom. An idea came to him. “Would you like to put your mother’s picture in your bedroom? The photograph was taken when she was sixteen. There’s a lot of her in you. I bet when you’re sixteen, you’ll look like she did.”

Her eyes lit up. “I want to see it.”

“Henry!”

Henry stopped on his way to one of the bedrooms. “Yes, Bill?”

“Is that picture of Amber’s mother from when she was sixteen in there?” Bill asked as he pointed to the crate.

“I think so.” Henry sorted through the things in it. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled it out. “You want this?”

Bill nodded and held his hand out to take the picture that was in a wood frame. Bill turned to Amber and showed it to her. Then he studied his daughter’s face. “I can’t believe how much you two look alike.”

Amber smiled. “I like that I look like her.”

“I do, too. It’s a good reminder that she was a part of our lives. In addition to looking at her picture, you can also look in a mirror.”

She hugged the picture to her chest. “Can I get a mirror put in my room?”

He nodded. “We can arrange that.”

Her smile widened, and he felt better for her. It was nice that Amber could smile when she thought of Jennifer. The good memories of Jennifer’s life should outweigh the pain of losing her. And who knew? Maybe having Deanne would help the girl. Every girl should have a mother to raise her and teach her how to be a young woman. He hoped that, in time, Amber would grow to think of Deanne as her mother. He didn’t expect Deanne to replace Jennifer, but it would be nice if Deanne could pick up where Jennifer left off.

Marsha came out from the kitchen. “We just put cookies in the oven. Is there anyone who would like one when they’re done?”

“That’s not fair, Marsha,” Henry said as he rubbed his stomach. “You know I’ve been trying to avoid eating sweets.”

“You can say no,” Marsha replied.

“How can I say no to cookies?” he asked.

“Easy. You say, ‘no’. No one is going to force you to eat one. Besides, I was talking to everyone.” She gestured to Bill, Amber, Morgan, and Jack.

Henry groaned. “You know baked sweets are a weakness of mine. Why can’t you stick with something I won’t be tempted by? Like cabbage. Why not offer us cabbage?”

Bill grimaced. “No one thinks of cabbage as a treat.”

“Exactly. That’s my point,” Henry said.

“I’ll eat your cookie for you,” Amber told him.

Amber looked so proud of herself for thinking to help him by eating his cookie that the others chuckled.

Bill patted her back. “That’s alright, honey. I’m sure Henry will manage to eat one. Why don’t you put your ma’s picture away and go into the kitchen to help set the table?”

With an enthusiastic nod, Amber hurried to her new bedroom.

“I can’t believe that girl tried to steal my cookie,” Henry said, eyes wide. “You ought to keep an eye on her, Bill. Now that you got a wife, you might find that your sweets will go missing around here.”

Bill laughed then went to Amber and Vernon’s new bedroom so he could help Amber find a place to hang the picture.