Chapter 23 - Difficult
"Annie?" Jeff entered their house and left his hat beside the door. There was no answer, so he called louder. "Annie?"
There was a faint sound from upstairs, which made him rush upstairs to their room. The door was open, and inside he found Annie crouching on the floor.
"Annie!"
She was crying, the sound of her sobbing tearing through his chest, and he picked her up in a flash. "Annie, what happened?"
"There is," she cried, "there's blood. I..."
"Blood?" He helped her get up and get to bed, and she laid down on his side.
"Blood on my drawers..." She tried to point with a shaky hand and couldn't. "Jeffery..."
"I'll call the doctor," he said immediately. "To come here and check you."
She grabbed his hand, her voice choked with tears. "Are you leaving me?"
"I'm just calling the Doctor and then coming back," he said. "It won't take long." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Annie, I promise it will be alright. Whatever happens, it's alright."
He wouldn't allow himself to think of what it might mean, what he could lose. He found Doctor Baker within ten minutes, almost dragging the elderly man on the way back to his house.
The doctor glanced at the bloodied cloth, pressed on her stomach and didn't speak a word. Jeff held Annie's hand during the check, and he drew comfort almost as much as he tried to give it. She was no longer crying, but there were still tear streams on her face, and her eyes and nose were red. He didn't want to think about the worst case, but his mind went there on its own.
What if she lost the baby?
It made his chest contract.
The doctor finished the exam, asked Annie a series of questions about her health, her nausea, and pains. He asked if she was working too hard, standing on her feet a lot, and she said no.
"That's not true," Jeff interjected. "You still teach, and stand most of the time. Then you walk from house to house all over Greendale, and you do a lot of cooking and such. You stand from the moment you get up until I force you into bed."
Annie looked so betrayed that he thought for a moment that he'd done something wrong. But then the doctor said. "Thank you, Sheriff. It's important to provide the doctor with the correct information. Ms. Winger, your baby is fine, but you must take it easy on yourself. You are working too hard for your condition. Your body needs these powers to grow the baby."
She shut her eyes tightly, and the tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. "Jeff," she murmured, tightening her grip on his hand. "The baby is fine."
He pressed back.
"As far as I can feel, sound and safe," the doctor smiled. "But you, ma'am, have to slow down. You don't have to stop working all at once, but take out at least half of it. And be attentive to your body - if you get tired more easily, feel sick - take out more. You'd better lie in bed all day until birth, than lose your precious baby." Annie held her belly in one hand, and when Jeff left her to accompany the doctor out, her other hand flew to stroke it as well.
He came back to find her lying with her arm over her eyes.
He carefully lay down on her empty side, placing a gentle hand on her belly and kissing her shoulder. "Annie?"
"How foolish I was," she whispered, her eyes still covered. "I cried as if I've lost everything..."
"That's not true, little one."
"...And in the end it turned out to be fine."
"You are allowed to cry for something that hasn't happened."
She lowered her hand from her red eyes to look at him. "At least I cried this time, it's more than I did last time."
He stroked her cheek. "Because you truly want it this time. It makes perfect sense to me. You're not foolish."
She exhaled, looking away. When she finally looked at him, she murmured, "Thank you. You were so level headed, you did everything right... I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here with me."
"You would have been fine, I'm sure." But he nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "My pleasure, little one."
Her eyes were bright when she stared into his eyes, searching for something. She opened her mouth and whispered, "Jeff, I..."
He waited patiently for the end of her sentence, but the silence lengthened until he finally leaned over and kissed her forehead. "It'll be alright. Don't blame yourself, sweetheart, but you have to work less."
She finally looked down, muttering, "Yes. I'll... stop making rounds. But I don't want to leave the kids. They need to learn, they need to do something. I'll… continue to teach."
"Fine." Jeff agreed. "I think that will be enough. In the meantime, let me do the physical work in this marriage, alright?" He bowed his head and rested his forehead on hers. She closed her eyes and sighed.
"Alright."
:::
It was as clear as an August day: Jeff couldn't agree to Stephen's offer.
He might have agreed if the proposal had come even five years earlier, but not these days. He won't lose everything he managed to achieve. The Greendale people who worshipped him. The convenient sheriff's position. His friends - Shirley, Abed, Troy. And Annie, carrying a child, the two most important people in his life. He thought she had lost the baby for thirty minutes, and it felt worse than getting shot in the rib.
He has avoided Stephen as much as he could in the two weeks that had passed. Jeff sent letters to anyone who might be able to help - the governor, mayors, even a senator. It will take time until the letters arrive, and until anyone responds it will be even longer. He had no fast solution to threaten Stephen with.
He debated for a while whether to accept the offer and sabotage the bandits' efforts from within, but it was too dangerous - assimilating himself with the bandits, trying to deceive them. He much preferred them far away from Greendale.
If only he could find a way to convince Stephen that he had other men who could fight, he would be able persuade him to give up Greendale. The problem was that he had no additional men, only Troy.
Therefore, after a long deliberation, and doubts until the last possible minute, Jeff asked Troy to help him.
Of course, the official story remained that Jeff knew about Stephen from his law practice years, but now he added that Stephen confessed about the upcoming raid, and asked Jeff to join because he thought him corrupt. Everything was true except for Jeff's own past participation in the raids. The best lie was often the truth.
"Annie thinks I went for a drink with you guys and Pierce," he briefed Troy and Abed as they walked toward the saloon late at night. Abed joined them because Troy told him right away, and at first Jeff was pissed, until Abed started making suggestions for the story that Jeff could tell Stephen, and Jeff was reminded that he was a helpful fellow, after all.
They both honor-vowed not to tell Annie about their actions tonight.
Stephen was in the saloon at this time of the evening, drinking and laughing with other men, though he didn't get drunk. After Troy left a note on his table and disappeared without Stephen seeing his face, they waited enough time until Stephen read the note, paid for his drinks, and left at once, as the note said.
Jeff was waiting for him in the same alley they met two weeks ago. At dark the alley was threatening, suited for their purposes. It was a cloudy night, but less than usual, and the moon gave some light. Jeff didn't bother to take a lamp with him.
Stephen walked into the alley and said with no formality, "I gather the answer is no."
"I thought about it," Jeff retorted, "and I realized I had a lot more to lose if I joined you."
Stephen snorted. "Sure. I can tell how much you earn from this job of yours, Sheriff. With all due respect."
"I earn more than from the sheriff's gig," Jeff said. "I have other investments here. Investments you don't know about."
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Really? What kind of investments?"
Jeff smiled. "It would be nice to tell someone. Even Annie doesn't know. And of course, you can't tell anyone."
Stephen folded his arms. "Yes? Now you've got my attention."
Jeff lowered his voice. "20 miles from town, an hour's drive, there's a mountain surrounded area, marked as a desert on all the maps. I seized this area as soon as I discovered it, and I now grow corn there and export it to neighboring states."
"Corn?" Stephen huffed. "You can't be serious."
Jeff didn't shy away from his distrust. It made sense as a response for a story told in a dark alley by a man who didn't look like a wealthy field's owner. But he leaned into it. "Nobody suspects the sheriff. But corn is welcomed everywhere, no matter where you grew it."
Stephen's constant smile slowly widened until it became an honest laugh. "And the government is none the wiser," his laughter rolled through the cold air. "You… you law-abiding sheriff!"
Jeff smiled. "I knew you would get it."
"So you don't want to give up your precious, taxless corn?"
"Yes."
But that wasn't the reason Jeff came up with the corn. It was this: "And I don't want to give it up. So say goodbye to your brother and nephews, go back to your boss and tell him Greendale is off limits. Go rob some other town."
Stephen let out one sharp bark of laughter. "Why should I? Just because you asked nicely?"
"No," Jeff said. "Because I will bring my men out of the fields, strong men that this is their sole livelihood, and they will beat your bandits mercilessly."
Troy stepped behind Jeff, folding his arms over the poncho he wore, half his face covered with a scarf, and a rifle hanging from a leash on his back. On his other side, Abad emerged, in similar attire, his hand resting on the gun in his belt. Jeff glanced at the two of them, but he already knew what he was going to see: two shadowy thugs ready to attack.
"You have men?" Stephen asked in disbelief. "Everyone was obliged to enroll! You were recruited yourself-"
"Who would suspect the great commander Winger?" Jeff interrupted. "It was very easy to hide them from the government. After ten years, they are very good at hiding."
Stephen retreated, his eyes darting between Abed and Troy who stood behind Jeff in silence, like lion statues guarding a gate of a mansion. "You're threatening me?" He blurted out, his grin finally fading.
"No, no," Jeff shook his head. "Of course not." He smiled. "I'm threatening your boss. We're still friends, aren't we?"
Stephen eyed Troy with concern.
Jeff continued, "And as your friend, I ask you to tell your boss that it's best not to come to Greendale. As you can see, the city enjoys my protection and that of my good people," he gestured widely at the two men behind him, and all his imaginary men working in the cornfields. They had to be strong from physical work, and trained in guarding against lawmen and robbers - via a gun, a rifle, and a fist. "Can you do that? For me?"
Stephen finally turned his eyes from the menacing statues behind Jeff, and his eyes narrowed at Jeff. "I knew you were hiding something," he said at last. "Back then, when we met in the camp, I knew that the legendary Jeff Winger is not the patriotic commander everyone thinks he is. Jeff Winger, always striving for some cause. Always looking for himself."
Jeff shrugged. "I plead guilty."
"Very well," Stephen came to a conclusion. "I will tell Rogue Bill that Greendale is not as weak as it seems. But we'll meet again, Jeff Winger," he waved his finger. "We are yet to settle which one is the better man."
"I would love to meet in more pleasant circumstances," Jeff continued to lie with a smile. "And thank you."
Stephen removed himself from the dark alley, and Jeff turned to go as well. He didn't say a word until he got to the sheriff's office, and stayed awake with Troy and Abed inside the building until they were sure Stephen wasn't following them.
The next morning Abad reported that Stephen James had left the inn with his suitcase, and left town.
:::
The students parted with her with squeals of glee, and Annie turned to collect her things. She won't go for a round today, nor tomorrow, nor for the foreseeable future, as she promised Jeff. She remembered the drowning sensation when she discovered the blood on her drawers, thinking she had lost the baby. She was sorry for not meeting the townspeople on her rounds, the women and children who became her friends, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make to ensure the baby's safety.
"Annie," Jeff said from the classroom door. She raised her head to watch him doing a kind of bouncy walk towards her, beaming as he caught her waist with both hands. "The fair Annie Winger!"
He leaned to kiss her neck, his lips soft but insistent, making her sigh and giggle, before sliding her fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck. "You're happy today," she chuckled as he kissed a path from her neck, to her jaw, and to her earlobe.
"I didn't see you last night," he murmured, "I've missed you."
He went out with the boys to drink with Pierce, and though she didn't change her mind about alcohol, she was glad he was trying to be more friendly with Pierce. He only did it for her sake, she was sure.
He didn't return all night, staying in the sheriff's office that was closer than their home, as he said would happen if he was too drunk and tired. She didn't tell him, but she also preferred him to stay there instead of bringing the smell of alcohol to their bed.
She grabbed his ears and pulled slightly to put his mouth closer to hers. "You're cute when you're tired," she murmured, kissing his lips.
They were still kissing in the empty classroom when someone cleared their throat in the door, and for a moment Annie thought it was Brita again, but when she looked up it was Nicole James, staring daggers at Jeff's back. That's new. What's her issue with Jeff?
Jeff ignored Nicole, kissed Annie's cheeks slowly, then stepped back, took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "M'lady," he murmured, and she melted slightly, as always when he spoke in that soft voice.
"Hello Miss Winger, Sheriff. Can I talk to Miss Winger in private?"
Jeff turned to Nicole and said in a restrained voice, "I'm not sure I want to leave my wife alone with you, Ms. James. We didn't have the best encounters with you in the past."
"I don't bite," Nicole snapped, but she looked sideways after saying it.
"Jeffrey, it's fine," Annie told him, stroking his arm. "I can handle this. Can you leave us alone?"
"All right," he said, glaring at Nicole. "I'll wait outside, walk you home when you're done." He signaled with his mouth, call me if you need, as if Nicole would try to hit her or something. Annie nodded to appease him.
He left the classroom, left her alone with the woman who was many a time the source of her anguish. "What do you want, Nicole?"
"I heard that the women's gathering decided to bring me back because of you," Nicole moved toward her, wringing her hands. "That you asked to let me back in."
"Right."
Nicole tugged on her sleeve, pressing her lips. She didn't look in her eyes. "Why did you do that?"
"Not because I forgave you."
"Then why? I didn't do anything... I didn't apologize..."
Annie shook her head. She didn't know what to tell her. "True. I don't know. I didn't think you'd apologize. But I also didn't think it would help to continue your ban."
"But why?"
"I saw you," Annie said before she could think it through. "I saw when Kyle got back. The other day. Your argument with him."
Nicole flinched, her chin falling to her chest. "You saw what I told him?"
Annie nodded. "I didn't mean to pry, but..."
"So you know the truth," Nicole said, lowering her eyes to the ground. "That I don't love him."
She said it with shame, guilt, pain; her shoulders slumped, both hands pulling at the sleeves of the other hand. That was it. The source of all the pain.
"I didn't exactly know," Annie murmured. "But I suspected..."
"He's trying so hard, but nothing he does can help. I'm a bad woman. I sent him to war and hoped he wouldn't come back."
Annie couldn't answer such a confession. Not just because Nicole wanted her husband to die and admitted it, but also because Nicole's guilt and self-hatred pointed at the truth: that she was ashamed of her feelings, that she hated the fact that they were part of her, but she couldn't stop them.
"I'm sorry," Annie said. "I don't know how…"
"You hate me," Nicole said. "I get it. A woman who wants her husband to die. I am a monster. You will never understand me. The sheriff admires the ground you walk on, and you wanted him from the moment you saw him. You don't know how it is to lie beside him, and realize you've made the mistake of a lifetime. You don't understand what it is to let him bed you, because he wants to, because you want children, and sometimes because you are weak and want some closeness, but hate yourself afterwards for letting him touch you. You will never understand… "
"But you love your children," Annie said. "And they are his."
"I'll never hate them," Nicole whispered. "I carried them under my heart for nine months. I nursed them at night. I sang to them and read with them... I did everything for them."
It was the opening Annie had hoped for, despite not expecting it. "Woody doesn't come to class," Annie said. "He comes sometimes, but not enough. He runs from me whenever I see him. Are you aware of that?"
"What?" Nicole was unaware of what her son was doing. "He isn't coming to class?"
"Yes." Annie said. "How do you treat him? Could your frustration be... passing over to him?"
"How dare you! I'll never-" Nicole raised her voice, but paused as her gaze glazed over. Guilt covered her features again. "Oh, Woody…" Nicole whispered. "I yell at him. I called him lazy... and worse. He misbehaves terribly at home, so infuriating..."
"But you love him," Annie said. "Your behavior hurts him, so he runs away not only from you, but from his duties as well."
"You don't have children," Nicole glared at her. "You don't understand what it's like..."
"It's not his fault you don't love his father," Annie refused to let the stabs get to her. "It isn't his fault that you didn't get the man you wanted, just like it's not Kyle's fault." Annie approached her. "You envy me for what I have, did you think about what I've lost? I had a husband that I loved and lost. I had a baby that I lost. It's true that I have a husband now, but it's hard for me too. It's hard for everyone. Hating me won't give you back what you've lost. and most importantly," Annie took a deep breath, ignoring the tears that filled the woman's eyes, and said:" You can't let your hatred pass to the children. Do what you need, shout into a pillow, chop trees into small pieces, but don't let it trickle down to your kids. It's destructive. You have wonderful children, Nicole. You will regret turning them against you as well."
Nicole buried her face in her hands, hiding her tears, and fled the classroom.
Annie stood in thought until Jeff peeked in the classroom door, looking baffled. "What did you say to her? Do you insult her as revenge for every evil thing she ever did to you?"
"No," Annie sighed, extending her arm to his and resting her head on his shoulder, thanking her good fortune for bringing her here, bringing her to him. "I just told her the truth."
:::
The Winger House was filled with the smell of freshly cut branches that Annie hung over the walls. All the lamps were lit, the fireplace burning, and guests were arriving.
At first Annie was going to invite only Abed and Rachel.
Annie caught Rachel one-on-one to apologize and explain that she didn't mean any harm. Rachel wasn't as hurt as Abed had presented - or she easily forgave as soon as Annie offered a chance to interview Jeff.
But Jeff would not accept the interview when Annie asked him, even when she widened her eyes and pouted. He laughed, kissed her pout, and said, "No" with finality. Despite this, Annie believed that if they asked him face to face, they had a better chance to make him agree.
Rachel agreed to the challenge. She was a tenacious lass.
When it became clear that Abed and Rachel just wanted a chance to talk to Jeff, Annie went ahead and invited everyone else to dinner.
Shirley cooked some of the things and brought it with Andre. Andre helped Jeff change the furniture location - the sofas moved into the kitchen and the table to the parlor, and brought another table in order to seat everyone.
Other than Abed and Shirley, Annie also invited Brita and Troy, and almost invited Pierce, but Jeff put his foot down and nothing she said could change his mind. She gave up this time. There wasn't enough room for him anyway, otherwise Florence Duncan would have been invited as well.
Their parlor was small, but eight people were able to sit inside, though it was difficult to get up and walk around, except for those sitting close to the kitchen - Jeff and Troy - who served the food.
Annie sat to the left of Andre Bennett, a well built man with a faint smile. On her left sat Rachel, next to Jeff, to try to promote her interview agenda. Next to Jeff sat Troy, then Shirley, Brita, and finally Abed - to Andre's right. It was a couples evening, but Annie liked the British seating arrangements, which dictated that spouses should not sit by each other. So far, she was happy with it. Many varied conversations took place in the room tonight.
Rachel said: "So Sheriff, what do you think about the war?"
"Difficult and not well planned," Jeff shot, as if he'd been mulling over this question for months.
"Really? Why?"
"Well..." Annie expected him to burst into a fire-and-brimstone speech and expound his doctrine from start to finish, but instead he said in an incredibly Jeff-ish way: "It simply is, Miss Duncan." And he filled his mouth with stew.
Troy said, "I'd love to hear why," from Jeff's other side. "You don't talk much about the war, but you were there a long time, and you were wounded in battle. You certainly have some stories to tell."
"Everyone would love to hear it," Rachel said. "That's why I'd like to interview you. I understand it's difficult for you to talk about it..."
"It's not difficult for me," Jeff responded as if she insinuated that he couldn't do thirty pull-ups in a row - something he'd been able to accomplish in the past two weeks, and was so proud that once he was done he ran to tell Annie immediately, still sweating and panting. "Me not wanting to talk about the past doesn't mean it's difficult for me. It just means I've moved on."
"Talking can help," Rachel said. "And talking about the past is what we do all the time anyway. Besides, I think bringing up the mistakes made is important, so we can learn from them and avoid them in the future. If you allow Abed and I to write it and publish in the newspaper, we could send it to the major newspapers in New York and Washington. Think how you can influence the next war, Mr. Winger."
Oh, she was good. And Annie was confident she would eventually get what she wanted.
... "I don't believe you and I have ever spoken to each other," Abed told Brita. "Miss Perry, correct?"
"Yes," Brita said, letting him shake her hand. "Are you Mr. Nadir? Troy's best friend?"
"Right," Abed said, tilting his head. "You call him Troy? You two must be quite close, then."
Brita blushed and glanced at Troy who was sitting on the other side of the table, eating with appetite and listening to Rachel and Jeff. "Yes, we're close," she murmured, playing with the food on her plate. "Why? Did he tell you something?"
"He's crazy about you," Abed said without blinking. "I think he loves you, but don't tell him I said that. I know I'm not supposed to say."
Brita stared at him. "Then why did you say it?"
"I'm not sure, I thought you should know. Besides it's literary repetition, which is connected to the general theme. Don't worry about it."
Brita stared at him, mouth open.
... Shirley said to Troy, "Mr. Barnes, I'm glad you enjoy the stew, but leave room for dessert."
He stopped filling his mouth with bits and looked at her with big eyes. "What's for dessert?"
"A surprise," Shirley told him with a mysterious smile.
His jaw dropped and he whispered, "It's cookies, isn't it? Please, Miss Shirley, say it's cookies..."
Shirley hummed to herself with a smirk. "Hmm-mm. I'm not saying. But you won't be disappointed."
"Oh! You're great, Shirley, you know that? Excellent woman!"
Annie chuckled.
… And among all those exchanges, this was the one she was waiting to have this evening:
"Mr. Bennett, what is your job?"
Shirley's husband cut his meat into measured pieces, and arranged the stew in his plate to avoid touching the meat or potatoes. "Hmm?" He looked up at her. "Miss Winger?"
"Yes," Annie smiled. "Shirley tried to explain to me, but I'm still not sure."
"Oh. I work in importing and exporting oranges."
Progress! "And how did you get to work in that?"
"Well," he glanced at Shirley, who was talking with Troy at that moment, "I don't know how much Shirley has told you, but her dad was a personal assistant to an orchard owner in the South, and he took me under his wing. That was twenty years ago."
Annie nodded. "You're away from home for a long time, I'm sure you like the job."
"It's good," he nodded.
"What do you like about it?"
"I don't know," he shrugged.
Annie decided to throw him a bone. "I am a teacher," she told him. " I enjoy it because I love children. They are smart, they have an unbiased view on life, and they teach me almost as much as I teach them."
"Is that what you want to hear? Okay, I'll try." He considered it, staring at the food on the table. "I enjoy traveling from place to place. Meeting new people. Convincing people that I'm the man who can bring them the best product."
"You're like a lawyer, like Jeff was," Annie reflected. "You like to persuade people."
"Your husband's a lawyer?"
"He used to be," Annie replied. long ago. "Now he's the sheriff." She glanced at Jeff, who was engrossed in a lively conversation with Miss Duncan. She managed to pull him into a discussion about the war despite his reluctance.
"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet," Andre admitted.
"I know. We've all had a hard time catching you since you arrived in town," Annie said casually.
"I'm a busy man."
"Certainly."
"Miss Winger... I don't know what your problem is with me, but you can tell me without beating around the bush."
He did not look angry, just irritated, folding his arms over his chest and his jaw clenched. She didn't mean to be rude. "I'm sorry. I have no issue with you, Mr. Bennett. But I admit I expected to see more of you. We all did." She glanced across the room, her eyes resting on Shirley, who was talking with Troy about news from the battlefront.
Andre followed her gaze. His brow wrinkled as he looked at his wife on the other side of the table. "Miss Winger, if you think you can intervene in my life..."
"I'm not trying to," Annie said. "But Shirley is a good friend, the first I had when I came here, and I truly care about her."
She looked around, making sure everyone was engrossed in their own conversations. On Andre's side, Abed and Brita surprisingly hit it off, talking about their favorite books. Nobody listened to her and Andre.
Annie said quietly, "She's at a loss."
"Women," Mr. Bennett muttered. "How much did she tell you?"
"Nothing. Only that she worries. If you're here, why aren't you here?"
"That's ridiculous," he said. "Another one of those weird things women say."
Annie understood Shirley's difficulty in talking to him. She lowered her voice and said only to his ears, "Then I'll explain to you what we mean. If your feelings for her have changed, it builds a wall between you. She feels it, even if you think you're acting the same as you used to. And you have to tell her how you feel. You don't have to tell me, but you owe it to Shirley."
He was quiet.
Annie decided it was enough for their first talk ever. The poor man must not have expected a confrontation when she invited him to dinner. "I apologize if I crossed a line. But think about it, Mr. Bennett."
Shirley was blissfully unaware of the conversation as she stood from the other side of the table and declared, "It's time for dessert!"
Troy cheered as she served the cookies on a decorated silver plate, and the guests gave their appreciation of the talented baker. Shirley graciously received all the compliments.
There was a knock from the side of the table, and Troy stood, tapping his glass. "Silence, silence everyone!"
The parlor fell quiet as they turned to look at him with curiosity, except for Brita, who was all flushed-cheeks and shimmering-eyes.
"Dear friends and acquaintances," Troy said. "I wish to use this opportunity that we're all here together."
Annie exchanged puzzled looks with Shirley.
Troy caught Brita's eyes and lifted his glass to her. "Miss Brita and I decided to get married!"
For a moment there was silence in the room, and then the words' meaning seeped into everyone's mind.
"You did what?" Jeff demanded.
Abed said, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Shirley covered her mouth with her hand and squeaked.
Annie was surprised, but pleased. "Congratulations! I can't believe you managed to hide it from me, Brita!"
Brita seemed just as stunned as everyone. "We just decided this week."
Annie tried to get out of her chair to go and hug Brita, who seemed to need a hug, but the room was too narrow and her stomach was already proceeding her. She gave up and said from her seat, "This is wonderful! Sensational news."
On the other end of the table Jeff said, "How long do you know each other, two months?"
"Two and a half months," Troy said.
"And you seriously about to get married-"
Annie turned to him, sending him a warning look, and he fell silent.
She said, "Troy knows what he's doing. Don't you, Troy?"
"Yes," he swallowed, glanced to Jeff and returned to her. "Yes. I want Brita to be my wife."
Jeff stared at him, opened his mouth and closed it, finally forcing out, "Congratulations."
Rachel gazed at Abed across the table, mouthing, it's fine. Abed nodded to her and said in a normal volume: "I know. At our own pace." Rachel blushed and lowered her eyes to the table, but didn't look sad, just embarrassed.
"Troy, can I talk to you later?" Jeff finally let out.
"Of course, Boss."
Annie had a clue what he wanted to tell him. She hoped he won't burn his ears with scorn.
When everyone said their goodbyes at the end of the evening, Andre glanced at Annie intently as he tipped his hat and said goodbye. Shirley told her, "what a wonderful evening! Very successful. I'll invite everyone to my place next time, there's more space in the inn." And she kissed her on both cheeks.
Annie hugged Brita tightly before she left with Shirley and Andre. "I'm happy for you. He's a good man." And a bit of moist was in Brita's eyes.
Rachel and Abed were the last to go. Abed was talking to Jeff when Annie hugged Rachel and asked her if she was successful. Rachel nodded enthusiastically, her golden ringlets bouncing with the motion. "I was! Abed was pessimistic, but at the end your husband said yes! Thank you so much for the opportunity, Annie."
"Gladly," Annie said honestly, "I agree that it will help him to talk about it."
Rachel recognized her words. "Did you listen to us?"
"Only this part."
Abed took Rachel's hand to escort her home, and as they walked away she heard him tell Rachel, "We aren't ready for marriage, are we? You're not mad at me for not proposing."
"Not at all," Rachel said, her voice barely heard as they strolled down the street. "If anything, they're the weird ones. It's awfully early! We're fine, Abed."
"Good to hear..."
:::
Jeff followed her to the bedroom and said nothing until he was sitting in bed, and watching her getting ready for bed.
"He's crazy," he said. "He hardly knows her."
"Jeff..."
"She's barely a nurse. What is he thinking?"
"Jeff, you can't know what's going on between two people. If you want to know, ask him tomorrow."
"Oh, I'll ask. Believe me!"
"I heard you agreed to the interview," she changed the subject. "With Abed and Rachel."
He groaned. "They're persistent..."
"I think you're doing the right thing."
"That you do. I regretted it almost as soon as I agreed."
"It's gonna be fine." She scrutinized herself in the mirror. The stomach has drastically changed her profile, now that she was about to start the seventh month. Her waist was nowhere to be seen, and her breasts were heavy and sensitive, as she'd told him once, before he left. She looked... odd.
"Is it heavy for you?" Jeff asked. "It can't be easy carrying so much weight everywhere."
Annie chuckled quietly, stroking her belly from top to bottom. "Yes." She rubbed her lower back. "My back hurts terribly."
"You didn't tell me that," he looked offended. "Come here."
"What? Why?"
"Woman! Always with the doubts!"
She laughed as he motioned her to lie down on the bed next to him, and pushed her to turn her back to him. Then he began to massage the aching flesh. "Here? Lower?"
She moaned as he touched the spot. "There, yes..."
It was maybe half an hour later and she didn't notice, letting his big hands squeeze and knead her until the pain faded. She knew he had good hands, but this was a talent she was yet to encounter. She didn't bother hiding her moans of pleasure every time he diffused another knot in her muscles.
Finally he leaned over her, pulling her hair away from her ear. "You know how you sound, don't you?"
"No," she turned her head to him, and his gaze was clouded, his pupils so dilated that his eyes seemed black. His hands left her back, one sliding forward across her abdomen, and the other lowered to massage her rear. She bit her lip. "How do I sound?"
"You sound..." he murmured, bringing his body closer to hers, surrounding her with his warmth, "like you sound when I pleasure you..."
She warmed instantly, and his hands slid gently over her now. When she looked into his eyes, she saw his need. "Do you really want me now?" She whispered. Her body was lax and calm after he massaged her thoroughly, but when he was close to her like that, and speaking in that hoarse voice, she wanted him painfully, the desire a hot ball deep inside her. But she felt like a mountain, not like a woman.
He smirked, kissing her shoulder, his lips lingering. "I always want you," he murmured. "Sometimes I think you're a witch, and you bewitched me to want you endlessly."
"That can't be true," she turned to him, needing to see his face as he said these things. She grabbed his cheeks. "I'm huge now. You're used to a violin figure, and I have the profile of a mandolin."
He snickered, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose with hers. "Little mandolin," he murmured, his hands cupping her stomach. "This is our babe here, you know? It doesn't make you any less beautiful. Don't be ridiculous..."
He kissed her. Then he made love to her in a way that made it clear that he wanted her. Afterwards, when he cuddled with her and didn't allow her to put her nightgown back on, she thought I love you.
It was getting very difficult, not telling him.
:::
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AN: It's funny how western!Brita is all about that marriage life, while modern!Brita "(surprisingly) comes from a long line of wives and mothers". But I firmly believe she'll be all for it. Not all of us can be Louisa May Alcott and never marry. Which leads me to...
Hello mystery guest! I like the idea of the original gang meeting with my Western!Gang - they're obviously quite different... but I don't think I'll write it. Since I don't own any of them, and probably won't release this fic as a book (with different names, 50 shades' style), I give my full permission for anyone who wants to write it :) Only thing - if you write it, please mention my fic by name, and let me know so I can read it! Thanks in advance.
Thanks for the reviews! I'm so thankful that you guys are with me for the ride :D
Next up - dubious marriage advice, and a wedding!
DFTBA