Leslie Ford put Persis to bed and walked into the room that she shared with Owen. Leslie changed into her summer nightgown. After ten minutes, Owen came into the room.
Leslie said, "It took a while to clean the mud off of Kenneth and settle him down, I take it?"
Owen said, "Yes."
It was Leslie's job to put Persis to bed. It was Owen's job to put Kenneth to bed. That was part of the deal. That was why Leslie had agreed to come to the House of Dreams that summer without any kind of hired help.
Owen and Leslie Ford used to employ Clarissa Wilcox whenever they stayed in the House of Dreams. However, things were tight now. They had spent most of Owen's royalties from The Life Book of Captain Jim. Owen didn't earn as much from Around the Island with Captain Jim as he had hoped. That's why Leslie couldn't have someone to help her with Kenneth and Persis, the way that Anne Blythe had Susan to take care of the Blythe children.
Owen came up behind Leslie and put his hands on her shoulders.
"How's my love?" He asked her.
Leslie wriggled out of his grasp.
"Owen."
"What is it, my darling?"
Leslie turned around to face her husband. She still swooned whenever she looked at him and realized that he was hers. Broad shouldered. That gorgeous brown hair. The dreamy, dark grey eyes of a writer. That kissable mouth. That nose and chin. Leslie knew that other women admired Owen. Didn't she see Anne eying up Owen this evening? And right in front of Anne's own husband!
Leslie wished that she could brag to Anne about Owen's physic. Owen toiled all day over manuscripts, true. But he also chopped wood every night to keep them all warm. This kept him nice and ripped. Other men bought their firewood pre-cut. Gilbert Blythe most likely paid another man to chop his firewood. Leslie doubted that Gilbert Blythe looked as good shirtless as Owen Ford looked.
Of course, Anne couldn't be blamed for drooling over a fine man when she saw one. After that one lecture on The Life-Book in Winnipeg, women had sent Owen flowers along with their hotel room keys. Those women reminded Leslie of Anne a little bit. Educated women. Women married to men with good jobs. Women who lost their shit over literary men.
Even when Owen disappointed Leslie, Leslie thanked creation for him. After knowing years – nay, decades - of bitter disappointment, heartbreak, and of course her abusive first marriage – Leslie still pinched herself every day in disbelief that this handsome famous writer was her husband and that other women envied her.
Still, she couldn't let go of tonight's visit to the Blythes.
"Why did you lie to me about last fall?"
"What do you mean, my darling?"
"Last fall. When you came here last fall? I asked you how the Blythes were doing. You made me think that they weren't home. How here I come to find out that Dr. Blythe was out on a call, but you were there with Anne."
Owen said, "I didn't mean for you to think that I lied."
Leslie said, "Then why did you hide that you spoke to Anne?"
Owen said, "Leslie, hon. I didn't mean to hide anything."
Leslie opened her mouth but shut it again without saying anything.
Owen had latched the bedroom door when he entered. Now, however, the door shook from the fists banging it on the other side.
Owen and Leslie heard Persis yell "Mom! Dad! Kenneth is hurt!"
