Chapter 5♥“When Are You Getting Married?”
“I swear, if Edward uses the ‘friend’ word again while staring at you tonight, I’m going to treat it like a slug bug and punch him in the arm every time he does it.”
“Marianne, behave.” Elinor added a half cup of water to the rice and stirred. “There’s a reason he wants to establish that we’re friends, and friends only. I think he’s in a relationship with someone.”
“Did he say that?”
“Why don’t you ask him? I’m shocked you haven’t already.”
“I’m not asking him. If he never talks about her, she might as well not exist.”
“That makes no sense, Marianne.”
“I’ll ask him,” piped up Greta before stealing a roll off the counter. She was gone in a flash before either Elinor or Marianne could stop her.
Elinor gave a long sigh. It was probably for the best that Greta did it and reported back what he said. This air of mystery surrounding the whole thing was just ridiculous. Edward might hope that if he didn’t talk about her, she wouldn’t exist, but clearly someone was in his life. Someone he apparently was not free from. Whatever that meant. Maybe he had a controlling mother who wouldn’t let him date. Elinor shuddered. What a horrid possibility.
“Are we ready to call everyone to the table?” Marianne asked. She picked up the salad bowl from the counter and peered in on the rice.
“Yeah, go ahead.” Elinor preferred her rice a little softer and stickier, but this would have to do. Rice cooked in bulk was a fickle beast. She’d made too much in fear of having too little. She turned off the burner and grabbed a hot pad before taking it into the formal dining room. The little kitchen didn’t have enough room for a table, which was a shame because the dining room needed a makeover like Elinor needed to get this dinner over with.
Greta came in, tugging Edward behind her. “Now can I ask him?”
“Ask what?” Edward smiled at Greta before his eyes turned to Elinor, pinning her in place. He had such beautiful blue eyes.
Elinor put the rice down and squeezed the handles of the pot. This was why worrying was so futile. Her family could embarrass her in ways she could never dream of no matter where her anxious imagination went.
“Marianne and Elinor want to know if you have a girl. Like one you date.” Greta dropped his hand and pulled out his chair for him, gesturing for him to sit.
He swallowed and looked from Marianne to Elinor to their mother, and then over at Greta. “I do. I’m engaged, actually.”
“How wonderful.” Mom smiled in encouragement and sat at the table first. “What’s her name?”
“Lucy.”
“Does she live far away?” Marianne asked, looking irritated. Nobody liked to be the last to hear news, especially a matchmaker.
“She lives here in town.” He sat down with his smile affixed, an intentional one, like he was being forced to compliment someone on their bad cooking. He might want to save that look for when he tasted the rice.
Elinor moved the vase with the flowers Edward had brought and scooted the rice pan closer. As long as her hands stayed busy, she wouldn’t have to look at him, face him, analyze him. Was it an arranged marriage? Her controlling mother theory went in a whole new direction. Maybe he came from one of those old money families who wanted to make alliances with other important families. Did that still happen?
“When are you getting married?” Marianne asked, ignoring the salad bowl Mom was trying to pass to her.
“We haven’t set a date yet.”
“Well, how long have you been engaged?”
“Let’s bless the food.” Elinor glared at her, but Marianne only shrugged in feigned innocence and bowed her head. Elinor did the same, trying to clear her mind. Engaged. Wow, was she bad at twenty questions. She should have asked him that one.
Marianne offered a prayer of thanks and then looked up expectantly at Edward, waiting for him to answer her question.
“We’ve been engaged for a year.” Edward picked up the ranch dressing and poured it on his salad. Like, Niagara Falls poured it. He must have been expecting a stopper. Greta laughed so hard she almost fell out of her chair.
“I’ll clean your plate off. Hold on.” Elinor reached across and picked it up, happy to have an excuse to leave the table. She took his plate to the kitchen and scraped it into the garbage before taking it to the sink and washing it. There was nothing worse than soap residue in food, so she gave it a good long rinse, occasionally flicking droplets of water at the houseplant on the windowsill which had survived the move. Edward couldn’t very well eat off of a wet plate, so Elinor took her time drying it with a clean towel.
“I can get a new plate. I’m so sorry.”
Elinor whirled around. What was wrong with her? He’d been sitting out there without a plate, while she was in here enjoying the solitude. Her enjoyment of solitude had led her to conquer many sinks full of dishes. She held out his plate for him to take back.
