Protect and Correct (8 page)

Collin frowned at her and then smiled up at the waitress. “Good to meet you, Francine. My name is Collin Doyle, and this is my lovely wife, Brooke. We just moved into town. Maybe you can help us? We need to get her some new clothes, and she was admiring your blouse. Weren’t you, darling?”

“Why, aren’t you the charmer? Go down the street and head right on Broadway. You’ll see Vintage World. What brings you to this part of the nation? You don’t look like a lobsterman.”

“No, ma’am. The only lobster I do is already steamed. I do online sales and websites.”

“I see… And do you work, Brooke, dear?” Francine asked, eyeing her with a pleasant smile.

“Yeah. I am an analyst…”

“She tests my products as a basic consumer and then fills out surveys,” Collin interrupted, nudging her with his foot. Brooke glared at him. How
dare
he dumb her down!

“Oh? What products?” Francine asked, unaware of the sudden tension.

Brooke stared straight at Collin and answered. “Sex toys. Could I please get some coffee now?”

She could not decide who turned the deepest shade of red—the waitress or Collin. Either way, her response succeeded in changing the subject to coffee, and Francine quickly left the table.

“What the hell was that about?” Collin asked. “I was trying to introduce us into the community.”

“You acted like I am a stupid, uneducated
housewife
. I have a master’s degree and—”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a housewife, kiddo. It is a long honored profession that this world needs. Plus, you
had
a master’s degree. You are, in all intents and purposes, a regular girl now. The whole idea is to blend in and become part of the community, not to isolate or draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Damn… That woman is already spreading the news.”

“I don’t care. I am used to being a social outcast.”

“Brooke, let’s get something straight. We are here for your protection. We want the people to care about you, not to want you to leave. Towns like this can provide the strongest protection, and you need that.”

“He won’t be able to find me. He doesn’t know what I look like.”

“No, but I am willing to guess that he knows enough about you to ask the right questions.”

“From who? A waitress with a third grade education who can barely see well enough to put her lipstick on straight? How many people in this place have even graduated middle school? Seriously, the level of intelligence here—”

“Cut it out, Brooke. You need to adjust that attitude. I… Oh, thanks, Francine,” Collin suddenly smiled as the woman placed two cups of coffee on the table before them. “I apologize for my wife’s surliness. She has been a bit out of sorts lately. You know,
lady
problems
.” He lowered his voice in a knowing tone. Brooke felt her face flush.

“You poor dear! You might want to go to the herbal store and pick up some Black Cohosh. That is supposed to help balance things.”

“I don’t believe in—”

“That is an excellent idea, Francine! Nothing else has helped,” Collin interrupted. He quickly gave their order, topped with more appreciative thank yous. With a sympathetic smile in Brooke’s direction, Francine left the table.

“I hate you,” Brooke repeated her mantra.

“Get over it. What I don’t understand is how you, of all people, can be such a snob.”

“I am
not
a snob!”

“You certainly are. You talk about people with less education the same way that the ‘pretty’ people talked about you! How dare you think you are better than they are simply because you had the opportunity to go to college?” Collin scolded, his eyes dark with anger. Brooke’s mouth hung open. “Do you think your
advanced
education is going to save your neck if that bastard comes after you? Whatever has crawled up your ass and died has finally gotten on
my
last nerve. Now you are to be sweet and cordial when that woman returns, or I swear I will roast your backend the second we get into the parking lot. Do you understand me?”

Brooke stared at him in disbelief. She hid the trembling of her hands as she wrung them in her lap under the table. She felt… ashamed. But he was not done with his lecture.

“There is nothing I loathe more than when a person who has conquered a problem in their life turns and discriminates against the very same problem. Weight loss, education, appearance… I don’t give a shit what it is. I am so damn disappointed in you right now. I really believed you to be better than this.”

Tears formed in Brooke’s eyes. She looked down into her lap and watched as a single drop splashed on her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Collin simply grunted. He looked up as Francine brought the plates to them, thanking her sweetly for the effective way she handled her job. The woman beamed with pleasure as she fussed over his needs.

“Brooke? Do you have something to say to Francine?”

“Aw, Collin…” Brooke began, but she turned to the other woman upon seeing his expression. “Um, sorry I’m so cranky. Please forgive me. There is no excuse if I appeared rude to you,” she choked out. “I was wondering if, well… are there any woman’s groups I can get involved with? Collin is always working, and it would be good if I could make some friends.”

“Of course, dear! Do you like to do any crafts? We have a huge miniature club that meets here the third Wednesday of every month at seven.”

“Isn’t that an oxymoron? A huge miniature club?” Brooke was genuinely confused.

Francine laughed. “Dollhouse miniatures. We have nearly fifteen members! We would love for you to join us. Please come. There is free pie and coffee!”

Brooke looked at Collin with trepidation. His eyes glowed with amusement.
A huge miniature dollhouse club
? She hated crafts and had never played with dolls! Brooke stifled a groan. They weren’t in Kansas anymore!

Collin grinned, enjoying her discomfort. “She will be there. Thank you so much for inviting her.”

Brooke forced a shy smile and nodded her thanks. As soon as Francine left, she turned to Collin. “I don’t have to keep reminding you just how much I hate you, do I?”

“Do you hate me as much as you hate socializing and doing crafts?”

“Yes, and more. Much, much more.”

Brooke’s mood darkened as the day wore on. Collin seemed to take great pleasure in forcing her to do the thing she despised the most. Shopping. Clothes shopping, grocery shopping, appliance shopping… The final straw was broken when Collin dragged her into a novelty store at the far end of town.

“Why are we here? My God, Collin! This town has a population of seven thousand people and less than twenty stores. Do you have to meet every person and go in every fucking store?”

“Watch the mouth. I promise that if I find what I want, we will be done for the day. Ahh, just the thing!” He held up a thick, 14 inch paddle with the words
Attitude Adjuster
carved into it. He smacked it on the palm of his hand, grinning as Brooke reddened.

“Got one just like it for my wife. Works like a charm,” the storekeeper chuckled, taking it from him to ring up at the old-fashioned cash register.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to this, but sometimes the bad attitude calls for a good, old fashioned paddling. Don’t you agree?” Collin commented back

“I think every husband in town owns one of these. They also like to have this on hand as well. Fits nicely in the glove compartment. Please, take it as a welcome gift.” He held up an oval-shaped, flat back, wooden boar bristle hairbrush.

“Thank you! I promise that it will be put to good use very shortly. Too bad these bristles aren’t made into a matt. I would suspect it to be very uncomfortable to sit a sore bottom on them,” Collin said, noticing Brooke starting to slip out towards the front door. “Get back in here, Brooke. If you had bothered with a more pleasant disposition today, then this little detour would not have been necessary.”

“I hate you.”

“The attitude problem seems to come with living in this town. My gal got her buns warmed right before work this morning for the same thing.” The shopkeeper laughed. “She was crying so hard, she put her lipstick on crooked.”

“Are you telling tales about me, Rolland?”

“Ahh! There is my trouble maker. This is my wife, Francine. How was work today?” Rolland asked, planting a firm kiss on her lips before affectionately smacking her rump.

“Much better since I got off. Hi again, Brooke. You don’t look very happy,” Francine said.

Collin grinned with a shrug. “Nor should she be. She is facing some OTK time after dinner tonight. Thanks to your husband, I suspect our time together will be very effective.”

Brooke stared at the floor, anger welling inside of her. How dare he humiliate her like that? She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Aw, honey, don’t be so embarrassed. Nearly every well-loved wife in our little town sports a tender bum now and then. Domestic discipline is an accepted part of our community.”

“Every wife? Are you joking? How in the world can that be?”

“This town has grown by word of mouth and the ladies,” Rolland smiled at his wife, “don’t seem to be embarrassed when it comes to gossip. According to the old timers, it’s been this way for twenty years.”

“But it’s abusive, and how anyone—”

“Have I ever abused you, Brooke? Please, tell me,” Collin asked seriously.

“It
feels
abusive! How can any mature, intelligent woman allow such a thing? We don’t live in the 1800’s anymore!”

“Might as well be around this place,” Francine grinned.

“This is ludicrous. How can women allow this?”

“It makes us happy and helps our marriages stay whole. There are no divorces here that I know of, and the only people who move are the kids who leave home. It’s a beautiful town, with wonderful people, and a way of life that helps keep things simple,” Francine stated, accepting the cup of warm tea that Rolland handed her.

“You are insane—”

“Brooke!” Collin barked.

Francine held up her hand, stopping Collin from further scolding. “That’s okay. I felt the same when I heard about this place for the first time. I was an English professor at Yale.”

“What?” Brooke was genuinely shocked.

Francine nodded. “We both were. Came here to retire. It saddened me when somewhere along the line things like simple étiquette and manners began to disappear from modern society. False belief systems developed that communicated degradation for a woman if she was treated like a lady. For example, some people believed that if a man held a door open for a woman, then he was insulting the woman’s ability to open it herself.”

“We are very capable of opening our own doors and sitting in chairs without help.”

“You are going to have problems sitting in general if you keep that tone up, missy,” Rolland grinned, noting the angry furrow deepening in Collin’s brow.

Francine laughed. “Easy on the child. This is a new revelation. Collin, honey? Do you practice gentlemanly acts?”

“Absolutely. Nor have I given into her protest.”

“Good boy. Your mama raised you right.”

“Both my parents were very old-fashioned and insisted on exercising manners,” Collin nodded.

“How does that make you feel when your husband takes care of you, Brooke?”

“Very uncomfortable. I really am not in the mood to hear more lectures about how fucked up I am—”

“She is correct,” Collin growled. “The time for listening is over. It is now time for action. If you both would please excuse us, I have some business to take care of at home.”

“Aw, Collin, please…” Brooke began, her stomach rising to her throat. “I’m sorry I swore, but—”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Francine came to Brooke’s defense. “She is in a new situation, and—”

“Francine, this is none of your business. Let the man take care of his wife as he feels is best. He loves her,” Rolland interrupted. “Don’t be such a mother hen.”

Collin thanked the couple, gritting his teeth as he led Brooke out the door and started towards the car. She froze in place, unwilling to move. He paused to look at her.

“Are you coming?”

“I don’t think so. I am very content staying right where I am,” Brooke announced, startled as a sudden large clap of thunder boomed overhead.

“Okay, allow me to rephrase. Get into the car. We are going home.”

“It is your home, not mine. I think—”

“It is our home for the time being. I honestly don’t recall asking for your opinion about this, baby. In the car. Now.”

“I don’t like you like this,” Brooke grumbled, rushing into the passenger seat as the rain began to plummet in thick, heavy sheets.

“I don’t like having to be like this, either. But you painted me into a corner. Put your seatbelt on.”

Brooke complied, chewing on her lower lip. He was definitely unhappy with her, and she was definitely in more trouble than she knew how to escape from.

“You knew about the mindset in this town, didn’t you?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“Of course I did. That was one reason I bought the house here in the first place. I was going to set up a practice…”

“You miss doing that, don’t you? Psychoanalyzing people,” she interrupted him, trying to redirect the subject from the target of his desire. Her rear end.

“No. I miss helping people. People who want to be helped, that is.”

“Not everybody needs professional help. Or desires it.”

“True. The problem is, though, that the ones who need it the most are the most resistant to getting it. They fool themselves into believing they are capable of handling their issues on their own, because they are too prideful and afraid to admit their weaknesses and be accountable for change.”

“You cannot assume that strong willed people are incapable of working through problems without help from the Almighty Doctor whatever-your-name-was.”

“Know what I think, Brooke?” Collin remarked patiently. “I think you are terrified to allow me to help you. I think you believe that once the door is opened to reveal all the real pain you are holding inside, that you won’t know what to do with yourself. I think that you have somehow convinced yourself that you deserve to be miserable and that if that feeling is taken from you, that you will not know
how
to feel.” He pulled to the side of the road and parked the car.