June 12th, 2023
Tonight I sit at my kitchen table, the kettle ticking down, and I finally write down the last words I ever heard from my father. You can stay angry at me as long as you like, my dear, he said, his voice flat as a stone wall. But my soul is rotten; dont argue with me, Ethel. Go with Martin and thats final. He warned that a life with him would be as silent as a tombnothing good would ever come from his tongue. He called himself a good man, but I saw the truth.
Arthur Tanner tried to embrace me, his arms as stiff as the old oak in the garden. I knew I could not turn against his will, yet I slipped my hand away, tears slipping down my cheeks. I have no strength for the courting! I whispered, my voice cracking.
He stared into my blue eyes, stubborn as ever, and promised that he would never let me be unhappy. Youll be forced to love him, Ethel! Go! he barked.
By the riverbank, Julian waited for me. My heart leapt at his smile; I imagined a lifetime beside him. In those fleeting moments I loathed my father with a ferocity I had never felt before. He had always been my rock, my example. Pleas and promises could not bend him.
Is he cruel or simply lost? Julian asked, his hand drifting through my dark curls as he studied my eyes behind thick lashes. He said we cant be together. Its hopeless you cant persuade him, I sobbed into his chest.
Try again! he snapped, kicking a duckling that scuttled along the bank. Youre not fit for my wedding! The house, the farmhes stubborn! He swung his foot, sending the poor bird flapping wildly.
Watch out, you fool! I shouted, trying to protect the creature.
Julian laughed, Just another duck, nothing to worry about. He led me toward the woods, away from the river.
On the way back home I ran into Martin. The sight of him made my cheeks burn. He was short, freckled, with sandy hair and clear blue eyes that I used to tease as bleached. He was nothing like Julian. I wanted to hurl something at him, but then I saw he cradled a duckling.
Where are you off to? I asked, smiling.
Just down to the river to bathe. I found this little thing crying out. I think it hurt its leg. Ill show dad; he knows how to treat animals, he answered, eyes meeting mine.
I realized the same duckling Julian had trampled lay in Martins arms. Shame flooded me; my beloved had hurt the creature while the man I despised now saved it. How odd fate can be.
From that day the duckling clung to Martin, following him around the village and even curling up on the haystack beside him. It was a comic sight, waddling after its keeper, always watching to make sure he didnt stray too far.
Youre a swineherd, and Im a duck herder, fool, Julian teased, Theyre only good for the table. Martin simply brushed him aside and kept walking.
Soon the wedding day was setMartin and I. I wept uncontrollably. Julian tried to coax me to run away with him, but I could not betray the love I felt for him, no matter how much my heart ached. My father, who held all the power, would never let me step over the threshold without his blessing. Mother, frail and silent after years of losstwo brothers gone in childhoodhad no voice to oppose him. I was the only daughter left.
On the morning of the ceremony I stared at myself in the mirror, my white dress immaculate, my golden hair spilling over my shoulders. The most beautiful bride! Arthur proclaimed, kissing my cheek. Are you still angry, my girl? I wish you happiness, my golden child. Youll thank me later.
Never, I muttered, turning away toward the window.
Julian danced with Kate that night, his eyes lingering on her the way I had once lingered on him. It hurt, but I was now Mrs. Martin. I could only chew on my own bitterness and watch Julian with another.
I stole a glance at Martin; he hadnt drunk, and the duckling bobbed beside him. What a fool, I thought, seething.
My mother helped me undress for the night, casting nervous glances toward the door where a stranger might appear. He entered, paused, looked at my clenched lips, then turned to leave.
Where are you going? What will people think? I sprang from the bed, rushing after him.
He stood silent, draped a scarf over his shoulders, and whispered, I like you, more than anyone. Youre lovely, dear. Im a mess, I know. If youll come to me, perhaps we can make something of it. Then he walked away.
No! I shouted, my voice cracking with rage.
The days dragged on. Martin and I lived apart from Julian, each occupied with our own tasks. One afternoon we went mushroompicking in the woods; I twisted my ankle, and he lifted me in his arms. In the evenings he would swing me on the garden swing over the pond while the duckling trailed behind. Gradually, the bitterness toward Julian faded.
I learned that Julian was still seeing Kate, with a wedding looming, but jealousy no longer burned. Martin never pushed to get close; he simply existed beside me.
One night a fire broke out at the neighbours house. I woke to the glow, ran out, and found the whole street gathered. The neighbour, a stout woman with three children, praised my husband. Martin, youre a hero. You helped bring everyone together. I asked where Martin was; the woman sighed, Hes inside, looking for the dog, Hattie. Shes hidden somewhere; the kids are wailing for her. A roof collapsed, and I screamed, losing consciousness.
I came to with a hand on my cheek, a man’s eyes staring at me. Are you alright? The roof fell, he asked.
Yes through the window I made it, I managed.
He said hed rescued Hattie from under the bed. Martin smiled, his eyes soft. I was scared for you, he said, tears in his voice. I love you.
Nine months later our son, Michael, was born. Martin, having learned his fathers trade, could mend cows and horses, even reviving a barely breathing foal. Folks travelled miles for his help.
I still marvel how I once fell for Julian, a man who married Kate, drank heavily, beat his wife, and ended up a cripple. I shudder at the thought that I could have become another Kate if not for my fathers iron will.
Now I stand outside, watching Arthur play with little Michael.
Dad I wanted to thank you for not letting me marry Julian, for seeing what was best for me. Forgive me, I whispered, kissing his cheek.
He laughed, Ah, youth. Well, youre grown now, you see whos truly a person. I couldnt give my beloved daughter to that monster. I knew youd be angry, but time heals. Listen to your elders; weve lived long enough to know. May God grant you happiness.
I grew old with Martin, working side by side in the fields, raising five children and countless grandchildren. Our family thrived, and the old saying no use crying over spilt milk took on a new, hopeful meaning.
