Page 80 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
“No. Not... I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
“The same way we’ll figure it out if you get pregnant?”
“Wow.” A blush spread up Edith’s cheeks. “Jumping a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”
“Well, it’s possible.”
“Is it? I’m not so sure. Brian and I weren’t exactly trying to prevent it during our marriage and it sure never happened for us.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Besides, we’re not exactly spring chickens, you and me.”
“What, thirty and thirty-two?” Henry slid his hands around Edith’s waist and tugged her closer. “Pretty sure that falls under the spring chicken category in this town. Even if it doesn’t, we’re going to be going at it like a couple of spring rabbits once we’re married.”
Edith smacked Henry against the chest. “Real classy.”
He chuckled and let her escape his grip. “I’m just saying it’s possible, okay? It’s something we need to consider. Somethingyouneed to consider.”
A breeze ruffled the curtains and an outdoor wind chime plunked a hollow tune as Edith moved to the living room window. The morning sun cast a honey glow, making strands of her hair appear even blonder than usual.
It reminded him of the first moment he laid eyes on her. A dizzy feeling of breathless wonder. And that was before he had even started choking.
Now it still felt like he was choking. Only this time on all the words he wanted to say. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to tell her he loved her. But he didn’t want her to live the rest of her life with regret either. If this town hadn’t been enough for Maggie, why should it be enough for Edith? Why shouldhebe enough for Edith?
She wanted to get married out of fear of disappointing the people of this town. He didn’t want to get married out of fear of disappointingher.
He might not have known Edith long, but he knew her well. She would stand by his side to the bitter end if she thought it would keep the peace. Even if it meant killing her own dreams in the process. She’d done it before, hadn’t she? With her first husband.
Henry wasn’t about to let her do it again with him.
He pressed his lips together, the unspoken words squeezing his throat tighter than any noose. As Edith stared out the front window, probably searching for answers of her own, he stared at her, already knowing what needed to be done.
He was getting that woman on a plane to South Africa no matter what. He might lose a piece of his heart when she left, but better than losing a piece of his soul. This time he was doing the right thing. Letting Edith move on to live the adventure she’d always dreamed of, that was the right thing.
He knew it. She knew it.
He crossed the room. If this was to be the end of them, he wasn’t saying goodbye without making it memorable. He’dsweep her into his arms and dip her back like that black-and-white World WarII picture of the soldier and nurse. This kiss would be one for the ages.
Before he made it to her, Edith spun from the window and grabbed him by the shirt. Maybe she had the same idea. “There’s people outside. And one of them has a video camera.”
Or not. “What?”
“A video camera, Henry. A video camera.”
“I heard you.”
“What do we do?”
The landline in the kitchen began ringing. “Um...” Henry backpedaled out of the living room. Honestly he didn’t know what to do. “Let me see who that is. Just...” He pointed toward the front of the house. “I don’t know. Tell them to hold tight if they come to the door.”
Seeing on the caller ID that it was Peg—and notUSA Today—Henry breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey, Peg.”
“Henry, where are you?”
“Sorry. Some things have come up this morning and I’m running late. Is everything okay?”
Peg released a throaty chuckle into the phone. “Yeah, you could say that. Charles Henderson just called. He said he happens to be in the area and would like to meet with you. He didn’t mention it, but I’ve got a feeling he may have been influenced by that front-page article plastered all over the region. Nice shiner by the way.”
“Thanks,” Henry said, racking his brain for the name Charles Henderson.Charles Henderson. Charles Henderson.Was he supposed to know Charles Henderson?
Able to read him over the phone just as easily as she could in person, Peg let out an exasperated sigh. “Charles Henderson, Henry. Multimillionaire. Philanthropist. Halfway houses. Does any of this ring a bell?”
