Free The Coach House by Florence Osmund Page A

I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone.
    Marie’s heart sank. One minute Richard could be so benevolent, and the next minute someone was calling him about a notorious mobster’s funeral arrangements. “Capone’s funeral is on Friday at one,” she said. Richard’s face showed no reaction. She headed towards the stairs. “Have a nice evening.”
    She felt flat, emotionless, as she climbed into bed. She knew if she had confronted Richard on why someone would call him about Capone’s funeral, he would come up with a semi-believable explanation, and then it would create distance between them. As a newlywed, distance was the last thing she wanted between them. She wanted each and every day to bring them closer together, closer to being a family.

CHAPTER 6
     

    Courtship and Marriage
     
    Shortly after their one-year anniversary, looking back at their whirlwind courtship, Marie wondered more than once if she should have given the relationship more time to evolve before getting married. They had met in September, and by early December, they were making plans to spend their first night together. The Rosas, who closed their restaurant on many of the holidays for entertaining family and close friends, had invited them to their Christmas Eve dinner party.
    “How would you feel about spending the night together on Christmas Eve?” he had asked. “You could have my bed, and I could sleep on the sofa.”
    She accepted his offer, but as the evening grew nearer, the more nervous she became. She wanted to go with her heart, but her head kept tugging her in the other direction.
    When Christmas Eve finally did arrive, Richard sensed her uneasiness and did his best to make her comfortable. “Why don’t you get settled in my room while I take a quick shower?” he suggested.
    “Richard, are you sure you want to sleep on the sofa?”
    “No, I’d rather sleep in here.” He shot her a playful grin.
    “I meant I could sleep on the sofa just as easily.”
    “Oh, that’s what you meant,” he chuckled. He sat down beside her on his bed. “Okay, I’ll behave.” He kissed her lightly, and then more deeply. “If you need anything, I’ll be right in there, in the shower. Just shout. I’ll come running right out if you need me,” he said as he got up off the bed. She threw a pillow at him.
    Marie changed clothes and retreated to the living room. When the rush of water in the shower suddenly stopped, she could hear him rattling around his bedroom. He emerged wearing only his trousers. She tried not to stare at his strong hairy chest. In his right hand he held up a blue shirt and blue and grey striped tie. In his left were a grey pinstriped shirt and solid black tie. He tilted his head toward her. “Which one?”
    She was wearing a black dress with a grey cummerbund-style belt. “I like them both, but if you wear the grey shirt, it might look like we dressed to match each other.” While she kind of liked the idea, she thought that might not be something a man’s man would do.
    “Okay.” He hummed an aria from Camille while he finished dressing. He surprised her every time he did something like that. He had no formal training in the fine arts, yet could hum that tune. He hadn’t attended college, but had read books that no high school kid would have ever read. He owned an original Tchelitchew and could talk about the artist. And he could recite poetry.
    Richard entered the living room in the grey pinstriped shirt and black tie. A slow smile quickly came to her lips and then to his. That was sweet.
    “I’ll get us a couple of drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around,” he said when they arrived at Rosa’s. She waited outside the bar area and watched him as he shook one hand after another, putting his arm around the men, or slapping them on their backs.
    While Richard made his rounds, a short jowly man, somewhere in his fifties with massive shoulders and a stomach to match, approached Marie. Unlike every other man in