Page 12 of Love is Strange
“I know, my darling,” I respond. “But the time has come to repent, and you’ll take far longer than I will with your endless list of sins, so please, just let me finish. Then it’ll be your turn.”
Her pleading ceases, and her tears start to fall. Though I try to ignore her, I waver, and a few moments later I collapse back on my heels, weeping along with her. She wept this same way when I took her to see Mary, and her vulnerability had been the final nail in my coffin.
“How much farther?” She sounded slightly out of breath as we ventured down the long lane leading to the Browns’ farmhouse. Fallen leaves crunched under our boots, but the autumn night was surprisingly warm. Even so, I felt numb all over.
“Perhaps another mile…maybe two.” It was strange to be making this trip at night, but after what she’d done to me in the confessional, I felt obligated not to dally. I was already semi hard again just thinking about her mouth, and regardless of the fact that we were out in the open, I was eager for a repeat performance.
I ruminated in silence about my oath, the one that I’d just obliterated, wondering why I had so few regrets. Maybe I was just born to be a cad. Perhaps my faith had never really been that strong, and I’d just needed proper motivation to sample the sins of the flesh. Likely Eve was the deciding factor. Had such a perfect woman not been placed in my path, I suspect I’d have gone to my grave pure as the day I was born.
Before I could come up with any solid answers, the large white house was in our sights. I’d merely promised her a peek. We would not be knocking or entering, we’d be peeping, two voyeurs stealing a glimpse at Mary’s new life.
We approached cautiously, though I’d been there recently and had assured Eve along the way that they had no dogs to sound the alarm. Still, we were not here to attract any attention, and I was ill-prepared to answer questions if we encountered anyone. Any gentleman escorting an unmarried lass at this time of night would have been regarded with reproach, but a priest and a prostitute?
I guided Eve to the parlor window, suspecting the family would be visible there. We could hear Mrs. Brown signing a lullaby, but we both dodged in a hurry when we saw she was pacing the floor, the fussing baby over her shoulder.
“My poor darling. Are you getting a tooth?” Her words were muffled through the glass of the windows, but she seemed to be growing nearer. Mustering courage, I stole a glance and saw she was sitting with her back to the window, and I gestured for Eve to take a look.
Once in place, we could see quite clearly the infant over her shoulder. The baby had grown so much in the weeks since I’d baptized her. Her dark hair had mostly vanished. We had a perfect view of Mary’s round face, rosy cheeks, and bright, alert eyes, which homed in on us immediately.
Eve clasped a hand over her mouth at the sight of her daughter, her eyes glistening in the glow from the window. Mary smiled at us and stuffed one tiny fist into her mouth.
“She’s beautiful, Henry.” Eve’s hushed declaration couldn’t be disputed. Mary nuzzled Mrs. Brown’s shoulder, rooting around as if looking for a breast to latch onto. We watched her a while longer, listening to Mrs. Brown sing in Gaelic, Eve sniffling every couple of minutes. The sound of hooves approaching finally pulled our attention away, and we stepped into the bushes just in time to see Mr. Brown crest the hill atop his black steed. The hour was late, and a sinking feeling overtook me. I wonder now how different things might have been had I listened to that instinct, or if we’d left before he arrived.
He was only a few yards from where we hid when he clumsily dismounted, stumbling awkwardly and swearing in a slur.
“Son of a whore.” Spitting, he kicked his horse as if it were the animal’s fault, and the horse whinnied and trotted a safe distance away.
“Let’s go,” I insisted, reaching for Eve’s arm.
“Not yet.” Eve shrugged me away, her expression weighing as heavily as her voice. A door opened and slammed from Mr. Brown’s direction, and though my gut told me to toss Eve over my shoulder and run, we both turned back to the window. Mrs. Brown was on her feet now, clearly alerted to her husband’s arrival by the slamming door.
“Elizabeth! Where’s my dinner?” Mr. Brown thundered, and the moment he came into the room we could see his splotchy complexion and glassy eyes. I’d no doubt he’d been deep in his cups, and when he advanced on his wife, she stepped backward in time with his forward movement, as if they were doing some sort of morbid dance.
“It’s been ready for hours,” Mrs. Brown snapped, surprising me with her boldness. “Where’ve you been the last two nights? Drinking and whoring aga—”
Mr. Brown struck her soundly, and Mrs. Brown’s head ricocheted right into Mary’s. The baby wailed in response, and in my peripheral vision I saw Eve go rigid. Then she bolted away. I sprinted after her, not surprised to see her heading toward the home’s entrance. I grasped her around the waist just before she could grip the doorknob.
“Let me go,” she hissed, pushing uselessly against my chest. I eased my grip and she let loose with a string of curse words in Italian.
I put my finger to her lips. “Eve, you can’t just—”
She batted my hand away. “I won’t sit by and watch this.”
“We aren’t supposed to be here.” I clutched her shoulders, emphasizing each word. Her expression remained vicious, lethal.
“Youtold me they were good people.Yousaid she’d be safe.”
Unable to dispute her accusation, I pulled her along with me back to the window, hoping whatever we saw there would guide me on what to do next. Mr. Brown was holding the baby, shushing her and bouncing her up and down. His wife was sprawled on the floor in the corner, shell-shocked but otherwise uninjured.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” Mr. Brown slurred, then kissed the baby’s forehead. “You know I’d do anything for the two of you. I just…I had too much to drink tonight and I lost my head.”
He handed Mary back to his wife as if she were a new item in a glass menagerie. “I need to go see to Midnight before he runs off.”
Eve turned to me, and I knew what she was thinking before she said it.
“Go talk to him or I will.” She was righteously indignant, and she had every right to be. I was nearly as angry at the man as she was, and the prospect of confronting Mr. Brown alone was not nearly as unthinkable as storming his threshold had been. I nodded and strode in the direction of the barn to get the impending unpleasantries over with.
It was only a couple of minutes before Mr. Brown appeared with Midnight. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
