Once Upon A Marriage

Barbara hadn’t told him about that one. Maybe, with the whole thing happening so quickly, Marie had opted not to tell her mother about the debacle. A shame, really. It would have done Barbara good to know that her daughter had been able to see through the man and then take care of herself quite effectively.

He’d have lingered awhile, curious about what else she might have to say, but Eva buzzed her, letting her know they had a line out front.

Reminding her that they were on high-security protocol, Elliott watched her all the way to the front of the store and then let himself out the back.

* * *

SHE DIDN’T HAVE to make a trip to the members-only bulk store that exact night. Marie bought enough in advance to always have extra supplies on hand. But she’d opened her last case of organic chips and the store had a coupon special on them. She also wanted a new air purifier for the apartment and those were on sale, too. Ben Schumann, the seventy-seven-year-old who, with his wife, Matilda, lived on the second floor with her, had been smoking in the hallway again and the stench was beginning to permeate her apartment and was driving her crazy.

Probably because she had enough quiet time to notice it there, all alone as she was.

She didn’t, technically, have to call Elliott to let him know she was going out, either. But he’d asked. Insisted. And she didn’t want to be more of a pain in his backside than she’d already been.

When his agreement to accompany her lit a burst of excitement inside her, she knew she had to start getting out more. To get a life.

Living alone, being alone every evening, just didn’t agree with her. Maybe she should find someplace to volunteer in the evenings. And start looking for a new roommate.

The fact that the weight had started to slowly lift from her heart as she walked down the huge aisles of floor-to-ceiling warehoused bulk sale items with Elliott walking quietly beside her, his hands in the pockets of his black chino pants, reiterated her earlier thought. She needed a roommate. To get out more.

She...

“Sorry about that.” His deep voice sounded beside her as he pushed the oversize cart that was getting heavy beneath the load she was piling in it. Cases of organically grown beans for salads. Toilet paper for downstairs and up. Paper towels. Trash bags for home and the shop.

“Sorry about what?” With a frown she glanced over at him.

“The stares. They can be off-putting the first few times.”

He didn’t quite smile. But she liked the way his eyes had softened. She was also confused. “What stares?”

With a movement of his shoulder he directed her gaze to the right. A teenager was looking at them. He turned away as soon as he saw them noticing him.

And she glanced at Elliott. “Maybe he likes your sweater.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t say anything else, and Marie turned down the aisle of professional-grade vacuum cleaners, smoke detectors and air purifiers. She read the specifics of the three models offered. Couldn’t decide between more BTUs or square footage estimates. Asking Elliott, as she’d have asked Gabrielle anytime in the past that she’d been purchasing a home appliance, she was relieved by his input and made what she was confident was the best choice.

“Is this for the shop?” he asked as he lifted it into the cart for her.

“Nope. It’s for home.” She told him about Ben, smoking in the hallway.

“It’s against Arapahoe rules to smoke in any public places,” Elliott said.

“I know.”

“Did you serve him a notice?”

“No.”

“But you asked him to stop?”

“No.”

He didn’t say any more. Didn’t question her. But she felt as if he had.

“Ben’s got cancer. He’s dying. His wife, Matilda, doesn’t want him to smoke, afraid that he’s shortening what time he has left. The man’s been a smoker since he was a kid working in his dad’s auto shop. It’s one of the few pleasures he has left. If he can have a few happy moments each day, sneaking his smokes out in the hall, and keep Matilda happy, too, thinking that he quit, then I’m sure not going to stand in his way.”

Not waiting for Elliott’s response, she moved on to the next aisle. And noticed, as they rounded the corner, the shocked look on the face of the middle-aged woman who’d been standing in front of a display of pots and pans. She looked from Elliott to her and back to Elliott again. Eventually she turned back to the cookware, leaving Marie with a huge dose of defensiveness where Elliott was concerned.

He didn’t say anything, so neither did she. And on they shopped. Not saying much. It was just past dinnertime and employees were out with little metal carts, serving samples of many of the food items the warehouse had for sale that week. As always, she passed them by. Elliott didn’t skip a single one of them—earning him another stare or two.

She earned herself one—from him—when she made a stop at the candy aisle and added a ten-pound bag of little individually wrapped chocolate bars to the cart.

“You serve all homemade food.”

“I know.”

“Surely you don’t go through that amount of candy at home.” She noticed him look at her figure.

“It’s not for me,” she said. “You’ve met Janice Maynard and her mother, Clara.” Janice, a seventy-three-year-old spinster, who lived with her ninety-five-year-old mother, had been in the shop one of the days reporters had swarmed the place after news of Connelly Investments’ fraudulent activities hit the internet. Janice had been upset by the cacophony and Elliott had personally escorted the two women to the private elevator and up to their apartment.

“Janice and her mother are almost as small as you are.”

Maybe. Though Marie had never thought of herself as small. Gabrielle was small. Neither of them was overweight. They both had good figures. But Marie took two sizes bigger on top, which made it difficult to share clothes.

“Janice’s mother has a penchant for snatching candy out of bowls or off from tables and hiding it in the seat of her walker,” Marie said. “I make it a habit to always have some on hand for her to snatch. It’s harmless.”

It was only as they were waiting in line to pay that Marie realized how much of a kook she must look to him. And wondered why the idea bothered her so much.

She’d never really cared before what other people thought of her. She liked herself, and that was what mattered. Or so her mother had always said.

But as a little girl gave a bit of a yelp when they approached her in the parking lot on the way to the car, hiding behind her mother’s leg as she watched them walk past, Marie couldn’t help being bothered. “That’s why you were apologizing, earlier. You get this a lot, don’t you? People staring at you?”

His shrug made her curious. More than curious. She wanted to know what it hid. Wanted to know everything he didn’t say to her.

“I’m larger than what most people are used to,” he said with no inflection as he began to load her purchases into the back of his SUV. “I’m not only tall. I’m broad. I have to special-order my pants and shoes.”

The words were personal. She wanted more. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“Sixteen and a half.”

Marie glanced at his feet. They were huge. She’d never really noticed before. Because they fit his body.

And she’d made him feel uncomfortable. Which wasn’t her way at all.

“Burton’s in love,” she blurted as soon as they were buckled into the SUV for the drive home. She hadn’t meant to tell him. It wasn’t as if Burton’s love life had anything to do with him.

But the news had depressed the heck out of her.

And she’d had to say something to get rid of the awkwardness that had arisen between her and Elliott.