Chapter Two: After returning home from the engagement party Beth is lying next to the sleeping form of Richard. She is wide-awake and her mind is racing.
"Oh, how peaceful he looks when he is sleeping, my big stubborn sweetheart...my love, without a care in the world. I'm so happy, I won't get a wink of sleep at all tonight.... my mind is just racing...isn't it wonderful...
Poor Stanley, how did Margaret put it? Yes that's it, she said, "hum dinger!" and "smitten, Richard is smitten with you." Stanley is going to have one hum dinger of a shiner, a black eye when he says the early Mass tomorrow morning. Dear Margaret, you were right, he just needed a little push and then he came out swinging. He finally said it, "I love you. I love you, Elizabeth Susan Adamczyk." Then he shouted it for all to hear, "I love you Elizabeth Susan Adamczyk!"
That was so romantic and I can be such a bitch. My poor sweetheart.... sweetheart, it feels so good to think that, and to say that... sweetheart... I promise I will never do anything like that to you again.... I will never doubt your love for me... especially after what you did at our engagement party. I just wanted to hear you say it... although in your own way you showed me, darling. I hope I can be as good a wife to you as Beatrice... I pray that I can...
Sean never did any of those things or would ever do any of those things. He would pay somebody to do it, that rich spoiled bastard that he was and most likely still is... he couldn't even stand up to his own mommy for goodness sake.
I was so young and so naive... a virgin. I was smitten by him and with everything about him, his politics for example. He encouraged me to join the debating team and we were partners; double-teaming people to join our liberal causes or to shout down the opposition, ad hominem attacks if it suited our purposes because we were right and they were wrong.
I was so popular in high school, an honor student, a cheerleader.... the homecoming queen.... a big fish in a little pond. Sean told me I was special to him and I believed him... I wanted to believe that he loved me, or in time that would he learn to love me.... I loved him, or I thought that I loved him. He never loved me... I was merely convenient... I can't believe that I cut my hair short for him and agreeing to that stupid pixie cut!
I hate my hair short and I hated that haircut, I looked like a boy. There I go again making excuses...I did it because he was handsome, and not just handsome, he was drop dead gorgeous and I wanted him and the things that his money could buy...I can't believe that I was so shallow then.
I will never cut my hair that short again.... except for my Richard and he wouldn't ask me to because he loves my hair long. I want to grow it waist length for him if he will let me...and I will keep it like this length because it pleases him, however I am sure that he would let me grow it longer if I asked.
Sean and I always agreed on everything... though of course he agreed with me, so that he could get into my pants. The places we traveled to together and the restaurants, plus the expensive gifts that he bought me, they were impressive I will admit to that.
It was like I was in a fog... of course, a fog! Because that is what you are Sean, disingenuous and insubstantial; you polluted water vapor. You were in love with yourself; the reincarnation of Narcissus admiring his own reflection in a stagnant shallow pool and destined to be transformed into skunk cabbage by the gods for your vanity, your self-love.
As for the causes that you championed, I was so impressed at the time...it is obvious now that you never believed in them, like so many of the people of the in-crowd... symbolism instead of substance.
I know exactly where my Richard stands! He means what he says and he lives it. He has never been afraid of anything, not even when he was a little boy.
The caviar, no big deal, it is merely salty fish eggs. I didn't like caviar then and I don't like it now. I just ate it to please you Sean, and because we were engaged, and because it was expensive. Give me a good hometown beer batter fish fry any old time.
I don't hate you any longer mamma's boy...you forced me to grow up and to mature and to realize what is important in life. Family.... my family was there for me, especially my mom. Dear Margaret, you are so much like mom, and Sweetheart, you are my family now, my love and my anchor.
Caviar & champagne cannot compare to the hot roasted walnuts and cold apple cider that we shared. (Beth touches Richard's face and smiles while wiping a tear from her eye) That evening, after our feast and then spending the day together, you walked me to my apartment door like you do every night.... to make sure that I am safe.
I wanted you to kiss me that night.... or for you to just hold me. That was the night that I realized that I loved you.... I was afraid of being hurt again.... afraid of telling you.... perhaps a little stubborn myself. Perhaps more then a little stubborn... I was waiting for you to say it.
Well maybe I will tease you a little to keep you on your toes. I shall tell you I want keep my maiden name after we are married.... just teasing my love, my man. My man...a real man, not a Sean! I adore thinking that because I am your woman now.
I wouldn't dream of changing you because you are so damn stubborn, and so patient and so kind and gentle, and oh... so frustrating at times...but full of surprises, like poetry, our daffodils, our special love poem to be sure. (Beth sighs, rolls over and snuggles closer to her love)
I would have never imagined that you knew poetry when we first met underneath our trees.... did I just think that, under our trees? When you wake up I shall tell you that, our trees, Sweetheart, our trees.
When I first saw you, my impression of you was no nonsense, so spit and polish in your uniform. Solid and formidable, unyielding with your feet firmly planted, much like your trees, our trees now! And then you shook my hand, firmly but gently, such strong hands, tough and callused hands, but warm, like the sun kissed bark of our lovely trees. Dear God, I'm so horny, I can't wait until you wake up so we can make love again and then you will touch me with your hands. You make me so horny.... should I wake you? Your hands are so unlike his which were cool and soft... like a woman's, what was I thinking? (Beth takes Richard's hand and kisses it, careful not to wake him)
You noticed the leaves in my hand and I didn't have time to put them in my car. I was afraid that perhaps you thought I was silly and wouldn't rent to me. Then you smiled and then you didn't look so stern or mean and then you let your guard down a little, yes just a little.... and the more time I spent with you the more you smiled. All the girls in my office noticed that and Margaret certainly did.... my twitter-patted love. ("I hated your mustache," Beth whispered to her sleeping love.)
You shaved off that terrible mustache just for me and I can't wait until your hair grows out. And then there is my beautiful pin, I found out what the leaves in my hand meant to you... I.... I'm going to start crying and wake you for sure.... stop it Beth!
When I first saw your house, now our house, and the barns and the trees and fields, I so wanted to live there. I felt as if I belonged there, as if benevolent hands were pushing me towards it, well...that's just silly, isn't it? I hadn't lived in a real house since Mom died and then I moved from place-to-place, job-to-job and never putting down roots. As to the few men that I dated.... duds... and to label them duds is an upgrade. I had just about given up on men in general when out of the blue, Margaret gave me your yellow file card advertising the apartment and told me to put it in my purse and not tell anyone. I'm so glad that you put that repairman in his place. Lucky for him you didn't hear what he said to me for you would have been angry with his lack of respect and his lack of manners: " Hey girl, what's up? Guess what? It's your lucky day. Out of all the girls here, I picked you to talk to, and baby you look like my size," what a dud!
And our discussions, you never took the ad hominem attack, never belittled my opinions or shouted or even raised your voice to bully me. If we didn't agree you always said, "well Elizabeth, I guess we shall simply have to agree to disagree...." Often I took the devils advocate just to get a rise out of you. You sat there with your arms folded like you do and calmly listened...my God you can be so frustrating at times.... you would be surprised to know that we agreed on most things.
"Would you like butter or jam on your pound cake, Elizabeth?", you would say... when you should have said that you loved me and saved us all the trouble. Instead, you pulled the handle off your favorite coffee cup and didn't even know it. I can be such a bitch, but it was so much fun.... I knew that you loved me and so did Margaret. You were waiting for me to return home one night when I was with Stanley and you pulled the curtains down when you saw me kiss Stanley's cheek... you were so angry, even Margaret laughed at that one.
I love it when you pick me up as if I weigh nothing... and the tractor...ha, ha, (Beth laughs quietly to herself) you were so embarrassed and then you turned beet red, as you did when I mentioned about the cologne you were wearing for me. That was so precious, both times, blushing and you didn't get angry when I ran the tractor into the bushes, you were so patient with me, and you are always so polite and always a gentleman. I'm sure that Margaret saw to that, your good manners...it seems few people have good manners these days.
Margaret told me everything... darling.... how you brought Bea home from the hospital because that was where she wanted to be on her last days on this earth, home. You took an unpaid leave of absence to care for her, doing everything yourself.... I know how you broke down and cried when Bea died, like you did in the theatre with Margaret...the only two times that Margaret ever saw you cry.
I know that when you were a little boy you would stand toe to toe with the older boys, bullies, who made fun of your clothing and the way you looked and how you lived, calling you a motherless bastard. I know that you often came home with bruises and your clothing was torn. Sometimes you were battered and bloody, and few times you needed stitches (sutures) because you were too stubborn to give up or stay down.
Margaret said that you never cried or even complained. You told her that only sissies cry and that a man has to stand for himself no matter what.... you drove Margaret crazy with worry but she admired you for it. Margaret also told me that you refused to tell her who they were, those bullies, or the Sheriff for that matter; and when you got your size you hunted them down and they got their "come-up-ins", especially the one that smashed your binoculars. Nobody messed with you after that. Margaret has such a way with words, "Come-up-ins".
