Page 89 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
Frederick kisses her. ‘You are not a whale. You are a woman, and you’re beautiful.’
She likes that he still kisses her on the lips instead of her forehead or somewhere that would suggest he’s started thinking of her as a woman other than his wife.
When Ruth was pregnant, her husband used to pat her on the head like she was a dog. She’d laugh and pretend not to be bothered by it, but Dorothy has known Ruth longer than her husband has and she could see that her friend was offended.
‘He hasn’t kissed me in months,’ she’d said to Dorothy not long after that. ‘He says he can’t while I’m pregnant. How does he think I got this way? It involved kissing! And other things!’
So Dorothy was half expecting that Frederick would behave similarly as her body expanded and she became less Dorothy and more incubator. She said that to him once, on a day when she was feeling vulnerable about the fact that her body – the body she’s always had, the only one she knows – was morphing.
He’d frowned at her. ‘Dorothy, why would I change how I feel about you? I did not marry you expecting you to always be the same. Did you marry me thinking I would always be the same?’
She shook her head.
‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘I might lose my hair. Are you going to leave me?’
‘No!’
‘What if I develop a hump, hm? As I become an old man?’
She giggled. ‘No.’
‘Well, you have a bump now. What’s the difference between your bump and my hump?’
She pretended to consider the question. ‘You don’t have the hump yet.’
‘Ah, but I will.’ He’d wagged a finger at her. ‘Tall men get humps. It’s gravity. We can’t help it.’
‘You can if you put your shoulders back,’ she retorted.
He looked amused. ‘Is that what you learn in that yoga class?’
She’d tried her best to look superior. ‘Amongst other things.’
He smiled at her in that understanding, caring way he’s always had. ‘Your bump is part of you, and I love you, so I am not going to think differently of you.’
‘Thank you,’ she’d said, and hadn’t again mentioned the fact that she’s been feeling unattractive and bloated, until now.
‘Are you still going to think I’m beautiful when my ankles disappear?’ she moans. ‘Because that’s next.’
‘I have to tell you,Liebling, that I am not making a list of all the things that are changing. I look into your eyes when I look at you. I am not looking at all the different parts of you.’
She’s touched. Even if it’s not true, he’s trying to make her feel better.
‘Now, I have brought home some food from the café so we do not have to cook dinner,’ he says. ‘And …’ He turns his body towards hers. ‘I have some news.’ His eyebrows dance up and down.
‘Do you want me to guess?’ she asks, picking at the bread she brought into the garden. She knows she’s not meant to eat more than she usually does but she craves bread most days, and Frederick keeps bringing it home.
‘There’s a café for sale in Port Douglas.’
‘Mm?’
‘The owner came to see me today. To tell me. He thinks it would be a good business for us.’
Dorothy chews the bread as she tries to comprehend why he’s telling her this. ‘But we have a business,’ she says eventually.
‘We could have another one.’ He looks at her expectantly.
‘We don’t need another one.’
