A Pretty Wife

“Well do you think you could at least visit them, even for five minutes or so? You can say you had to run. I just know how much they would love to see you.” Henry asked in a fit of recent bravery.

“I don’t like talking to them. They are boring and every time we talk it’s as if we’re meeting for the first time.” She spoke with such undeniable authority that his stomach tightened for a moment at the mere thought of opposition to such a force. Often when speaking with his beautiful well-liked wife  Henry would recall the Chinese proverb “An egg cannot break a stone.” He often found deep consolation in those simple anonymous words. He wondered if their original speaker had fallen in love during his early twenties as well.

Caroline McWilliams- Scrub had a flawless figure. Her skin maintained the glow and luster of a much younger woman far into her mid-thirties. Her skin wouldn’t dare disappoint. Her eyes were beautiful and sharp. She had a clever way of tilting her head and playing with strands of her carefully messy curls so as to appear coy and bashful. Her opinions were spoken as fact and in a tone so endearing it often took the hearer a few days to feel their subtle intended slight. Her voice had a kind intelligent melody and would hover on the air as she entertainingly belittled they she thought less of. And the “they” in question grew in positive correlation in the amount to which she thought well of herself. Caroline only had a limited amount of liking. Some people are born that way. They can either love themselves or others, and any addition to one was sure to subtract from the other. It wasn’t intentional or voluntary, it just happened to be how that equation worked out.  Caroline fancied herself “frugal” but her frugality only ever manifested with strength when matters of charity were being discussed. She loved Henry dearly for his consistent inability to see her clearly. It was the first quality of his that had caught her sharp eyes. Henry felt in earnest that God had taken pity on his mediocrity and thought in God’s generous sort of way to bless him with a woman so far his superior that only a lifetime of groveling would ever truly even out the score.

Henry Scrub had handsome yet unassuming features. He had spent some of gradeschool and most of highschool searching for a spouse upon which to release the love he had spent so long a time accumulating. He had found his love here and there, as many of us do. Sometimes he found a bit of it hidden in a brook’s haunting babble, and still other times he found it in a sunset, or a kiss at the end of a film. Before meeting his spouse he never knew quiet what to do with all of the pieces of love he found, so he ingested all of them over the years, feeling sore with the pressure of it. At twenty two he met a young and painfully attractive Caroline McWilliams. And although the synthesis of her good qualities never managed to blend into anything resembling a whole, Henry’s honest appreciation for the merit of the qualities on an individual basis left him in a state of gut-wrenching love. Their dates were the unfortunate and common instance of one person talking and the other imagining what it is they might be saying. Henry was too enamored with what he presumed his delicate lovely Caroline might be saying to ever really hear the words she spoke with painful clarity.

The Scrubs were lovers. They loved with the simple and inaccurate assumption that they would be loved to the same degree with which they loved others. And it was under this assumption that Henry at the age of twenty three found himself bound for life to a woman he hadn’t yet met.

“Are you sure you couldn’t just stop by? It’s Christmas!” Henry caught himself. “But you are busy. And you mentioned weeks ago that you didn’t plan on coming. I guess I just thought you might change your mind. We’ll play games, and there will be punch! Now that sounds like a lovely night I think. And the children adore you Caroline.” At this Henry looked up from his feet that had been giving him the strength to speak with such candor.

“Your family is as intellectually stimulating as a flock of geese.” Caroline spoke with that flirtatious smile that left Henry both confused and filled with directionless passion.

“I know you are terribly clever Caroline, but surely life is more than just being smart and funny. My family loves you. They simply want to see you.” Henry had taken lately to speaking these words of truth. Caroline hoped it might just be a phase. She paused swallowing the bit of frustration that was coming out of her depths. Assessing the situation, she sauntered towards him.

“Henry my love. Thank you for speaking with such honesty. I had no idea this little party meant so much to you, and our dear family. I was being a bit of a brute wasn’t I? And you always do so much for me. Oh Henry! Of course I’ll go, but tell me, am I mean?” She said this displaying an expression of weakness and pain. At once Henry felt ashamed for being so forceful. It wasn’t in his nature to say or get what he wanted, and on the chance occurrences when he did he felt uneasy.

“Oh darling no! I am truly blessed to have such a wife! And what kind of husband would I be if I dragged you about to this and that outing just because it suits me? I always swore I would never be that kind of man. Stay at home, rest.” As he spoke he felt the too-smooth skin of his beloved wife.

Caroline protested.

“Oh darling no! Of course I’ll come! It’s Christmas and you ask so little of me. You are such a doting wonderful husband. Do give me more opportunities to show you my love dearest.” Saying this she pressed her lips into his slowly and deliberately, conquering the moment.  She was the hit of the party.

He was consistently well behaved for four more months.