The M Word (6 page)

She had purchased a bicycle rack, which he
attached to the back of her car. She watched him work. He glanced
at the instructions and had the rack attached to the car in only a
few minutes, which impressed her.

He was good with tools, like her father, she
thought. But he was better than her father, who tended to leave his
equipment out all over the place. Marius was much tidier, cleaning
as he went. He gathered up the packaging from the bicycle rack and
threw it away in the apartment dumpster. Today he was wearing a
polo shirt and a pair of canvas shorts. She noticed that his legs
were firm and muscled and beautifully shaped. Must be all that bike
riding.

Brenda smiled at him. “I hope everything can
fit, but I don’t mind if we need to take a second trip.”

He glanced at the space in the trunk of her
car. “There should be enough room.”

And there was. Marius had only two large
suitcases, a briefcase with a laptop computer, a backpack, and a
few boxes that fit easily in her second seat. “How long have you
lived in the United States?” she asked.

“Three years.”

She found it amazing that he hadn’t
accumulated more belongings.

Brenda noticed that one of the boxes was
filled with several pans and a cutting board. “Do you cook?” she
asked.

He smiled in a bemused way. “I like to
eat.”

That could mean anything, but she’d find out
more about him as they lived together. “Speaking of eating,” she
said casually, as they both sat in her car. “My parents want to
meet you and I said this Sunday would be fine. Is that okay with
you?”

“Yes. I look forward to meeting your
family.”

“I told them that we met over a year ago, and
that we’d seen each other off and on -- casually -- but that our
relationship changed recently when I broke up with Steven. I think
it’s best to keep the dates and the details vague.”

“Steven is your ex- boyfriend?”

She clenched her teeth. “Yes.”

“How long were you together?”

“Nearly two years.”

She glanced at Marius, who had a serious
expression on his face.

“Is there anything else I should know about
him?”

Brenda hated to say this part, knowing that
it would make Marius think less of her, but she had to be
completely honest, even if he thought she was a slut. Someone had
called her that in high school and the word still stung. “He’s
married.”

Marius nodded and said dryly, “Then it’s much
better for you to marry me.”

She smiled briefly, grateful that he hadn’t
acted horrified or asked any more questions. “Yes.”

When they arrived at her house, Brenda parked
in the attached garage. “We can get a wall hook for your bicycle,”
she offered.

“It will be fine, leaning against the wall,”
he said.

She unlocked the door to the house. “I’ve
emptied out one of the bedrooms for you,” she said clearly. “To
give us both some privacy. At least, at first.” She blushed,
knowing how awkward she sounded. But their relationship was
awkward, and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.
Eventually they were going to sleep together, but not yet.

“Very wise,” he said with a smile.

“Your bathroom is right across the hall. I
have my own bathroom in the master bedroom.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want help bringing your things
in?”

“No, thank you.”

How polite he was. Brenda retreated to the
kitchen, and busied herself with paying bills.

For the next few minutes, she heard him
walking past, carrying his belongings. He carried one thing that
looked like an iron bowling ball with a metal handle.

“What is that?” she asked.

“A kettle bell.”

“Oh. For exercise. I’ve heard of that. It’s
very trendy.”

“They’ve been popular in Russia since the
1700’s.”

“I guess eventually everything old is new
again,” she said, looking back at the bills. She chewed on the end
of her pen. She hoped Marius wouldn’t end up being one of those
exercise fanatics who insisted that she follow his routine.

He took several more trips from the car into
the house. As he walked, he hummed something she didn't
recognize.

“That's a cheerful, bouncy tune. What is it
from?” she asked, setting her pen down.

“
La Traviata
.” He stood in the
doorway. He sang one line of it, then explained, “Alfredo is giving
a toast encouraging Violetta to drink to love.”

“You sang some of that the other day. Is
La Traviata
your favorite opera?”

He hesitated. “One of my favorites.”

Brenda wished she knew more about opera so
they'd have something to talk about. “Is that what you’re studying
for your degree?”

“Yes.”

“Masters or Doctorate?”

“Masters right now. Perhaps later I will get
a doctorate.”

Dr. Jaworski. He’d probably be good at it.
“Do you plan to teach?”

“Someday. Perhaps.” He smiled. “There is a
Yiddish proverb I like:
Mann traoch, Gott Lauch.
Man plans
and god laughs.”

Brenda smiled.

“So I work toward my goals, but I don’t
expect them all to be achieved.”

“That’s a healthy attitude,” Brenda said.
That’s probably why he was such a calm person. He wasn’t as driven
as she was. She realized that he never gave the impression that he
was in a hurry. She hoped that some of his happier attitude would
eventually rub off on her. She handed him two keys. “Here’s one for
the front door and one for the back door. If you want it, there’s
an extra remote for the garage door on top of the
refrigerator.”

“Thank you.” For a second as he took the
keys, his fingers brushed hers.

Brenda was startled by the warmth of his skin
on hers.

“Next month, we can probably get you a used
car,” she continued briskly. “Do you have a driver’s license?”

“Yes, but I do not need a car. My bicycle is
sufficient.”

“But now that you live here, it’s a much
longer commute.” She said, “I don’t know how safe it is for you to
be riding that distance at night, especially when it’s
raining.”

Marius smiled, but there was an underlying
hint of steel to his words. “Thank you for your concern, but I do
not need you to buy me a car. If I want a car, I will buy my own
car.”

Ooops. Belatedly, Brenda realized that she
must have stepped on his masculine ego. Marius may not have as much
money as she did, but he didn’t want to feel like a kept man. “Yes,
of course,” she said quickly. He returned to his task of moving his
belongings into her house.

This marriage relationship was going to take
some time to get used to.

A few minutes later, he brought his pans into
the kitchen. “Where would you like me to put these?” he asked.

“Wherever,” she said. “With the remodeling,
any system of organization I had is long gone now.”

He noticed that there were several packages
on the table.

“Wedding presents,” she explained. “I’m
trying to get a head start on the thank you notes.”

“What have we received so far?”

“Towels. A clock.” She motioned to the last
package, a padded yellow envelope. “You can open that one, if you’d
like.”

He sat across from her and ripped open one
end. “It is not wrapped,” he said, pulling out a wisp of black
lingerie. He held up a pair of thong underwear. “For you,” he said,
handing her the item.

“Probably,” Brenda agreed wryly, taking the
package from him. “I don’t think it would fit you.”

Marius flashed a brief smile.

She pulled out a matching cropped camisole
top. “It’s probably from Andrea,” she said, checking the return
address - blank. “Oh, here’s a card.” She reached into the padded
envelope. “Now, watch it be from my Grandma Vicky,” she joked, then
felt her face freeze as she recognized the handwriting on the
card.

Thinking of you.

Brenda dropped the card as if it burned her
fingers, then hastily wadded up the panties, the top, and the
packaging. Without a word, she carried the items out to the garage
and dumped them in her trash can.

She came back to the kitchen, washed her
hands and sat back down at the table.

“From Steven?” Marius asked gently.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped.
She had thank you notes to write, and she was not going to let
Steven distract her.

Marius watched her for a few minutes, in
silence, then left the room.

Brenda was glad he didn’t pry. For the next
hour, she heard him unpacking his belongings and getting settled.
She wrote her thank you notes, paid bills and straightened up the
kitchen. Marius came into the kitchen just as she was at the sink.
“Good night,” he said pleasantly.

“Good night,” she said automatically, not
even looking at him. She had poured herself a big glass of water
and was searching searched through the cupboards for a medicine
bottle. She shook four capsules into her palm and was about to put
them in her mouth, when she saw him watching her. “Acetaminophen --
do you mind? I have a raging headache.”

“That's not the solution,” he said gently. “I
can give you a neck and head massage. It's very good for relieving
stress.”

If she thought it would do any good, she
might have been tempted. But she didn't want anyone touching her.
Not now and not for a long time to come. Brenda swallowed the
capsules. “Keep your hands and your good advice to yourself,” she
said fiercely, and walked past him, down to her bedroom. She shut
and locked the door.

CHAPTER FIVE

Brenda woke to Marius singing scales. She rolled over and looked at
her alarm clock. Five-twenty. She had ten minutes to lie in bed and
enjoy the serenade.

As she listened to him sing
a capella
,
she thought,
he really is good
. Then his voice cracked on
one of the higher notes.

No one's perfect. He was silent for a moment.
When he started again, he was back at the beginning of the
scale.

She considered lying in bed a few minutes
longer. Then maybe he'd leave before she came into the kitchen.
Coward
. She needed to apologize for being such a shrew the
night before. They were going to be man and wife, and at the bare
minimum, that required civility.

She took a shower, then dressed in a black
suit and a royal blue blouse. As she stood in her small bathroom,
applying her make-up, she smiled wryly at her reflection. At least
there was one good thing about her short fuzzy hair -- it was very
easy to take care of. But she’d be glad when it grew out enough so
she wouldn’t need the wig.

When she came to the kitchen, she saw Marius
at the stove, cooking what smelled like scrambled eggs. He wore
blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top that bared his muscled
shoulders and arms. His feet were bare.

He smiled. “Good morning.”

Brenda swallowed, unable to say anything for
a moment. She’d had no idea what had been hiding beneath his
ill-fitting boxy dress shirts.

Marius wasn’t stocky. He was built like
Adonis, with wide shoulders and a surprisingly broad chest that
tapered down to a washboard stomach. He didn’t have the extreme
bulky look of a body builder. He looked more like an athlete -- a
gymnast perhaps. He should have his clothes tailored to fit that
incredible inverted triangle.

Or maybe not. She didn’t want him to get
mobbed by women on campus.

“Good morning,” she said, finally finding her
tongue. She noticed that his thick dark hair, slightly damp, curled
back from his forehead. And the dark chest hair that had seemed too
hairy before, now seemed appropriate.

Maybe she was getting used to it.

“I've made enough for two,” he said
cheerfully. “Would you like some?”

It wasn’t scrambled eggs. She was surprised
to see that he had made a lightly golden omelet, bursting with
finely chopped vegetables. It was beautiful, but she didn’t like
eggs in the morning on an empty stomach.

“No thank you,” she said politely. “I'm not
very hungry.” She took a banana, peeled it, ate it, then poured
herself a glass of milk. She drank standing up, watching as he set
a place for himself at the table.

She’d never known a man to actually sit down
for breakfast. Steven always ate breakfast on the run, usually
downing a foul smelling protein drink before he kissed her good
bye.

“Is that all you're eating?” Marius asked
her, then frowned. “Pardon me. That is none of my business.”

It was none of his business, but she had to
give him credit for catching himself quickly. And she was
determined to start their relationship on a higher plane. “About
last night,” she began awkwardly. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

His hand paused as he lifted a fork from the
silverware drawer. He looked over at her. “No, I should apologize
to you.”

She wouldn't let him take the blame. “No, you
were just trying to help, and I was in no mood for anything.”

“Is your headache gone?”

“Yes. I feel much better now.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled. He turned back to his
work. She watched as he slid the omelet from the pan onto his plate
and carried it over the table. As he sat down, he looked at her
expectantly.

Brenda was embarrassed to be caught staring.
She checked her wrist watch. “I've got to run,” she said, then
remembered what she had meant to say the night before. “I’m going
to be wearing a white dress for the wedding, so it would look nice
if you wore a suit. If you have one. But if you don’t, your khakis
would be fine.” She didn’t want him to spend extra money,
either.

“Would you prefer a tuxedo?”

“No, there’s no need to rent one.”

He looked at her calmly. “I own one.”

The man whose entire wardrobe fit into two
suitcases owned a tuxedo? Marius was full of surprises today.
“Good,” she said finally. “That will be great.”