The Water Tower

Chapter 1

 

              Summer was quickly fading and I was deeply grateful for the transition. Nighttime led to open windows, which allowed the soft hazes of peace and light winds in. The heat made it impossible to breathe at times and somehow, I never could acclimate to the sounds of the city. So it was the city rather than the air that kept the windows in my bedroom shut for most of the day. This, I found, often led Adam to sit in the library down the hall. Of course, being the gentle man that he is, my husband would invite me to join him and would always suggest books for me to read. I could hardly bear it. I only left the confines of my room when absolute necessity deemed it so. There are times, though, when Adam would not take my refusal as an answer. He would take my hand in his, brush the hair away from my eyes and smile the same smile he wore the night he proposed. It was difficult to fret over his family’s stares after that.

 

In the library, which housed a cushioned bench on a curved wall, my husband and I would sit. Adam would work on his blueprints and schematics for the buildings he designs and I would be engulfed in a novel of his choosing and I would always be thankful. Thankful that he found my mind an equal to his and thankful that I genuinely adored the literature I read.

 

One evening, however, I was reminded of the reason to my self-imprisonment. The curved wall of the library, which Adam and his father built, housed windows that revealed the hallway and part of the great room. As I looked up from a page of a Shakespearean play, I gazed at Adam. He stood tall and his glasses were reflecting the light of the candles. His light brown hair was too long for a gentleman but I never minded it nor did he mind the looks and scoffs of anyone who thought his appearance to be amiable; his family included. He held a book and as he stared intently into its pages, my heart skipped a beat. There, my husband stood. But what I saw in the corner of my eye made me regret ever meeting him.

 

His father Sidney walked past. I turned to see him shaking his head just before he disappeared out of view.

 

“Esther?” I wonder if he makes it a point never to look at me or if he simply forgets that I live here. Esther?”

 

“Yes, Adam?”

 

“How do you like the play? I know it holds much darker themes but"“

 

“Titus is lovely. Truly.” Adam placed the book down and as he sat beside me on the bench, he took off his reading glasses and placed his hand on mine. The touch felt foreign, as if I were feeling the hand of a stranger and not that of my own husbands’.

 

“He is only weary from his work.” I smiled as happily as I could manage and put the book on the table so that I could create my exit. However, Adam’s arm went over my waist and he held me to the bench, moving his body closer to mine. Adam is set on building a house for us from the ground up therefore no gift from his father would be satisfactory to him. ‘I want to make a home for you, Esther.’ He had said when he proposed. This decision forced us to remain in his father’s house until that home was constructed. And to stay in Sidney Beckett’s house meant that, wife or not, I was to sleep away from my husband. That is why his grasp on me made me tremble the slightest and my stomach give birth to hundreds of tiny butterflies. Sometimes I pray to God our house is never completed. If Adam’s hand on mine wreaks havoc within me, I dare not wonder what chaos could ensue if our marriage were ever consummated.

 

“They will see you for who you are someday, Esther. Until that day, fear not of their foolish thoughts for that is all that they are, darling, foolish.”

 

“What,” I had to keep the tears away so I could no longer look Adam in the eye. “What if they do not.” His laughter caught me off guard but created a feeling in me as it always has. Comfort. Adam held my face and brought it slightly to his own.

 

“Then that is a loss that they must bear. You are my wife, not theirs. And I, Esther, I love you and that is all that should concern us.” That should be all that would concern me. However, the purity of my husbands’ love is in question.

 

I could not withstand his sincerity, nor his skin upon mine any longer. I had to harness my exit and thankfully, Sydney’s arrival meant that dinner would begin to be prepared.

 

“I should help with dinner.” I could swear I saw Adam squirm slightly; as though someone just revealed to him a most unsettling secret.

 

“Of course, Esther. I’ll join you shortly.” He smiled again and took my hand to his lips and kissed it so tenderly, I nearly hoped it came from love. I knew better to believe that burst of light and made certain I doused the tiny spark completely out.

 

 

I fought off the urge to kiss his hand as I rose to leave and made sure my attention was on the hardwood floor. When I shut the door and began to walk away, I could see in the corner of my eye, that Adam was still standing there, his eyes on my form.

 

A deep breath wearily graced my lungs as I stood in the doorway of the large white and chocolate brown kitchen. Adam’s mother, Olivia, was standing over the sink stirring the cream into whatever dessert was on the menu this evening. With her gray and strawberry blonde hair pulled away from her face, I could almost see the beauty she once held. But, seeing any beauty, any purity in these people is like finding a ladybug amidst a garden of red roses. The task can be accomplished, but too much time and far too many thorns need to be endured. Quite frankly, I do not feel as though I should search for such innocence. Not when they show only the opposite sentiment to me.

 

I try, though. Or, I used to as it were.

 

“Come in then, Esther. You are of no use to anyone standing there.” Phoebe. “Here, help peel the potatoes, please.” She set a bowl of potatoes on the table in the center of the room and she sat down waiting for me. I do not know which it was, the doorframe, or me but once I moved closer to my sister-in-law, I felt trembling all over.

 

I sat beside her and, with a smile, began peeling potatoes. Phoebe was humming some piece by Mozart I believe and her bangs had grown so the strands kept disrupting her vision. Her long thick hair was the lightest of the children and the only child to match the mother the most. It would be logical I suppose. As logical as this biological fact is, it leaves me, undoubtedly, as the anomaly of the family. They were light and I was dark.

 

After helping my mother and sister-in-law with dinner in silence, we had dinner. Though the music of nothingness that deafened my ears during the preparation of the meal continued through to the consumption of it, Adam did speak to me. He was the only one.

 

“Thank you, Esther.” He said at the end of the meal, motioning slightly with his eyes toward his empty plate. We both felt the scornful glances of his mother and sister, who thought they deserved the thanks and not I. But, Adam smiled and I smiled consequently and then nearly lost my breath when he smoothed his fingers across my cheek, took both his plate and my own and walked away.

 

 I insisted on cleaning and mercifully, the ladies of the house left me to the chore. The men, mumbling grunts about my husbands’ foolish womanly act, wandered off into the den for Brandy and talk of hopeless politics. Adam, however, was excluded from this tradition. Every so often he would indulge his father and brother with controversial and educated conversation on the world’s events and the town’s character but Adam cared as much for those matters as any Chicagoan cares for fire.

 

My husband relishes, instead, in the events of the past and the designs of our house. He spends hours at a time in the library and when he is not, he goes riding with his horse Star Light. Of course, he requests my presence with him on these mini adventures but I always refuse. Tonight was no exception.

 

As I walked through the hall toward my bedroom, I could hear the laughter of the men coming from the den on the other side of the house and the quiet chatter of the women in the sitting room as they sewed and knitted by the fire’s side. An activity I engaged in mostly alone in my room- away from their judgmental eyes.

 

I turned the iron handle of my door, went inside and shut it and in that instance, the greatest wave of peace wrapped around my skin. I breathed a silent sigh and knew that existence with my husband’s family was over: for just a few precious hours. I began to undo my hair as I turned away from the door but let out a gasp, nearly tripping over my feet.

 

“I believe your reaction to my presence means only one thing?” Adam was sitting on the foot of my bed suited in his riding boots and jacket.

 

“Perhaps that a man should not be in a woman’s chamber without her permission?” I smiled, catching my breath. I wanted to go to my vanity, which was in a alcove straight across from the entrance, but I could not move. Adam laughed but it was not filled with humor.

 

“No, Esther. It means that I am absent from you far too often.” He stood, looked to my writing desk on the other side of the room and then turned his focus back to me.

 

“Nonsense, Adam. We are in the library together nearly everyday and we went on a lovely walk just last night.” I took a step but he took several toward me until only one step kept us apart.

 

“A husband should not be apart from his wife.” His sincerity and what looked to resemble pain caused me to look away from him. “You are always alone in this place. When I brought you here, I never imagined this.”

 

“Imagined what?” I said as I forced myself to look at him.

 

“My wife falling asleep alone.” There was the briefest pause and it allowed me to notice something as my eyes flickered from his words; his fists tightening. “The worst of this is that you feel that there is no place for you here, Esther.” He let out a sigh and his hands held mine.

 

“My place is with you.” I regretted the words the moment I said them. He does not share my sentiment. Not anymore. Not ever, I fear. Adam’s face relaxed with my words, but he insisted on maintaining his fretful tone.

 

“Will you come ride with me?” A nervous laugh spilled from my lips and somehow, I managed to escape from his hands and sit at my vanity.

 

“I do not know how to ride horses, Adam. How many times must we go over this?” I began to brush my hair when his words, and his form, began to reach me.

 

“Perhaps I have been stating my question in an erred fashion. Let me rephrase.” He came to me and steadied himself on the back of the chair. His eyes met mine in the mirror and he continued with his renewed request and tone. “Will you hold on to me as I ride Star Light?” Adam had been well aware of my inability to ride from the moment we met so I always wondered why he constantly asked me to go riding with him. Teaching me is a possibility but now, now I see that he only wishes for my company. Does he truly only desire time with me?

 

“What will they say when we go off into the night, Adam?” My husband smirked at my blunt implication and the sudden warm breath on my neck was gravely apparent and yearned for much too long.

 

“They will say the truth.” Adam turned so that his familiar portrait cradled my own. His words were meant to be obvious with meaning but I was left confused.

 

“They will say that we will be…” He could not possibly be implying that…

 

“Esther, can you tell me your memory of when we last kissed?” If I was not clear on his intentions before, I was absolutely ridden with disorientation now. But he posed a rather significant question. The memory did not leave me disoriented whatsoever. We were at the Water Tower. Adam had the sudden urge to go into the city and took me with him. Nightfall was nearing and so were the rains. We had left the carriage and walked until we came to the Tower. We were only there a few minutes until the carriage caught up with us. But, as the droplets began to fall softly and the sound of the horses and people began to muffle, Adam held my hand and then pulled me so close to him, I giggled out of shock.

 

Then, as the rain hurried its march to the earth, Adam kissed me. And I could do nothing, wanted to do nothing, but kiss him in return.

 

“I cannot say for certain. I believe a few nights ago.” He shook his head with hurt.

 

“Yes, Esther. What does this tell you?”

 

“Simply that we have not kissed since earlier this week. What are you getting at, Adam?” Some how, the lines of his face wrinkled and his jaw tightened in a way I have only witnessed when he is at his most angered…. and his most helpless.

 

“Goodnight, darling. Sleep well.”

 

“Adam?” He headed for the door and as his hand touched the iron, I felt my heart race and my stomach burn. “Adam wait.”

 

“I apologize, Esther.” His words reached me but his face did not. I stood and was a few steps from him and that distance made my heart break quietly.

 

“For what? You"“

 

“My behavior was ill-advised and I assure you I will take caution to my thoughts for the future.”

 

“Adam, there is nothing ill about your behavior. I…I just do not understand them.” Adam turned around then with the most quizzical and saddened face I have ever seen on a man.

 

“How could you not understand?” Truth be told, I understood incredibly. If he were a husband to any other wife, it would be clear that his intentions were to kiss her. To have her wrap her arms around him as they rode through the woods. To make love to her… I could conceive of that. This, however, this I could not, for if these intentions were directed toward me then reason would dictate love as a factor. And I have come to learn that my husband does not love me anymore. Hence now, my utter misunderstanding of his words.

 

“How could you?” He glared at me with a mixture of shock and disgust and very silently, stormed out of my room. I only began to move when I heard Star Light galloping from the stable.

 

 

 

Anorin Arssinous 2010