Frustration
Moffitt could hear the clackety-clack of typewriter keys coming from his wife's small study on the top floor of their home. The door was closed and that was a clear indication that Pippa didn't want to be disturbed. He hated when the door was closed. They had only been married a few weeks and he wanted to spend every possible moment with her. For years he had wondered if he would ever find someone who could tolerate his moods and flights of fancy where his work carried him. Someone who could handle his nightmares and the times he was deeply immersed in research.
Then he bumped into Dr. Phillippa Buchanan. Literally. He hadn't been watching where he was going and knocked her down, with pages from her most recent novel flying everywhere, getting mixed in with pages from his latest research paper. It took quite a while to sort everything out and he used that time to get to know her better. In addition to being a professor of Tudor History at Cambridge, she was also a popular author of fiction, set in the court of King Henry VIII.
It didn't take too long for them to realize they belonged together and after a brief courtship, they were married in a surprise ceremony, a week before Christmas when the Rats were visiting in England. It was New Year's Eve, and they had just recently returned from their honeymoon. He wasn't ready to share her with a typewriter. He wanted to hold her in his arms. They were newlyweds for goodness' sake. He really hated that closed door.
He went downstairs and made a cup of tea. He turned on the radio and listened to some music. He settled into his "thinking chair" before the fire and tried to read a book. He still kept thinking about that closed door and his wife writing away on the other side. He nervously wondered if she had grown tired of him already. How could she shut herself away and work when all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and show her how much he loved her. It was so very frustrating and somewhat nerve-wracking.
Outside he noticed it was beginning to snow. He put on his coat and went outside to the wood pile. He could hear the clickity-clacking continuing as he brought in several loads of wood and stacked them by the fireplace. Would she ever reach a stopping point? He glanced at his watch and realized she had only been writing for just over an hour. It felt like an eternity.
He built up the fire and returned to his chair. Picking up the newspaper, he began to work the crossword puzzle. This was something they enjoyed doing together in the evenings, but he was a bit miffed that she was ignoring him in favor of whatever intrigue she was concocting in King Henry's court. It was hard to play second fiddle to a maniacal English king who had been dead for centuries.
When the puzzle was finished, he realized he no longing heard the typewriter in use. Hoping against hope, he quickly rushed up the stairs only to find the door still closed. He sighed deeply and turned to drag himself down the steps. This was unbearable. He wanted her so badly and she was ignoring him. That's when he noticed something on the top step. It was a rose petal and a note. He had been so preoccupied on his way up that he hadn't them before. Nervously, he bent over and retrieved the small card.
The note was in Pip's handwriting, and it simply read, "Follow the trail for a reward." He tracked more rose petals as he slowly descended the staircase. On the landing was a bottle of champagne and a note, "I'm waiting for you." He continued following the trail which led to their closed bedroom door.
Cautiously, he turned the doorknob and found the room ablaze with candles. Soft music played in the background, and he noticed an open box of Belgian chocolates on the bedside table, next to two champagne glasses.
"Pip?" he called quietly, as his eyes adjusted to the light.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she spoke seductively from where she stood in front of the window. She wore a lacy, black, negligee that brought a wide smile to Moffitt's face.
"It was definitely worth the wait," he said, putting down the champagne and taking her in his arms. "I have missed you so much today," he said with a lingering kiss. "I was becoming jealous of King Henry."
"You are most definitely twice the man he ever was. He's far in the past and we're together now," she replied, returning his kiss.
"For now, and always," he replied. "Happy New Year."