Read Online A Perfect Marriage by Laurey Bright - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurey Bright
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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yawned again. She'd spent long hours keeping a bedside watch at the hospital, while trying to make sure that her father got sufficient food and rest. And the funeral had been difficult. Dora's family had expressed definite ideas about how it should be conducted, not always in accord with what Ted wanted. Somehow Celine had adopted the role of go-between and conciliator. "Sorry," she said, "I'm bushed."
"I realise that." Max kissed her forehead and withdrew his arm. "Good night."
"Mmm," she murmured gratefully, and hunched down into the blankets. "Good night."
Max lay on his back, one arm behind his head, his eyes open, until she had dropped off to sleep. Looking towards her in the darkness, he couldn't see her face except as a pale blur. Along the circular gallery, a door opened and shut softly, and a few minutes later he heard the toilet in the spare bathroom flush and the door open again, Ted returning to his bed. Max sighed, turned on his side and gave his pillow a punch. Then he closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.
Max would never have believed that one extra person in the house could make such a difference to his comfort. Ted had been an early riser all his life, and at six sharp he was up and using the bathroom. Max was thankful that he didn't have to share theirs. Celine got up at seven now, even at the weekend , and went down to make breakfast for her father, who would be waiting at the kitchen table.
"Shouldn't he be getting used to doing things for himself?" Max queried once as Celine left their bed. "He won't have Dora to make his breakfast when he gets home."
"It's more to keep him company," she explained. "At least while he's here I can give him that."
:How long is he here for?" It had been ten days now.
"Until he's sorted out what he wants to do, I suppose." Celine headed for the bathroom.
That evening Max, as usual, found Celine preparing dinner while Ted read the newspaper in the lounge. He wondered what on earth Ted did for the rest of the day, that he had to read the morning paper in the evening, when Max himself would have liked to have a look at it. To give him his due, Ted always offered instantly to hand it over, but courtesy demanded that Max invite him to finish reading, first.
Celine, busy washing a lettuce at the sink, said, "Dad's talking about going back to Rotorua in a few days. But he thinks he'd like to sell up and move to Auckland."
"Shouldn't he give himself some time before he makes a decision?" Max felt slightly guilty about his morning irritability.
"It's not as though he has family there." Celine shook the lettuce leaves and placed them in a basket to drain.
"You're the only family he has here," Max pointed out.
"That's better than nothing. I still don't like the idea of him being on his own. Max ...?"
He had a sinking premonition, even as he said, "What is it?"
"This is a big house for the two of us. Would you mind if Dad moved in with us for a while?"
, Yes, he would mind, Max knew. He minded that he could I never read his own newspaper when he wanted to, that he ' was woken each morning by stealthy door-closings and un accustomed stirrings and the sound of the plumbing working. He minded that last Sunday evening his father-in-law
had sat in a comer alternately grumbling because he didn't understand the plot of the TV play they were watching, and noisily shaking and folding the pages of the Sunday paper.
There were a lot of things that he minded. And he knew that every one of them was trivial, that he was a selfish human being to be minding at all when Ted had so recently lost his loved wife, when the older man had so much more to complain about.
"How long?" he asked Celine cautiously.
"Well, until he settles on something. If he does sell the house, I thought he might buy a flat in Auckland, but this afternoon he mentioned something about a retirement home."
"Is he ready for that? What about one of those villages where you can buy a flat, and later
"I realise that." Max kissed her forehead and withdrew his arm. "Good night."
"Mmm," she murmured gratefully, and hunched down into the blankets. "Good night."
Max lay on his back, one arm behind his head, his eyes open, until she had dropped off to sleep. Looking towards her in the darkness, he couldn't see her face except as a pale blur. Along the circular gallery, a door opened and shut softly, and a few minutes later he heard the toilet in the spare bathroom flush and the door open again, Ted returning to his bed. Max sighed, turned on his side and gave his pillow a punch. Then he closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.
Max would never have believed that one extra person in the house could make such a difference to his comfort. Ted had been an early riser all his life, and at six sharp he was up and using the bathroom. Max was thankful that he didn't have to share theirs. Celine got up at seven now, even at the weekend , and went down to make breakfast for her father, who would be waiting at the kitchen table.
"Shouldn't he be getting used to doing things for himself?" Max queried once as Celine left their bed. "He won't have Dora to make his breakfast when he gets home."
"It's more to keep him company," she explained. "At least while he's here I can give him that."
:How long is he here for?" It had been ten days now.
"Until he's sorted out what he wants to do, I suppose." Celine headed for the bathroom.
That evening Max, as usual, found Celine preparing dinner while Ted read the newspaper in the lounge. He wondered what on earth Ted did for the rest of the day, that he had to read the morning paper in the evening, when Max himself would have liked to have a look at it. To give him his due, Ted always offered instantly to hand it over, but courtesy demanded that Max invite him to finish reading, first.
Celine, busy washing a lettuce at the sink, said, "Dad's talking about going back to Rotorua in a few days. But he thinks he'd like to sell up and move to Auckland."
"Shouldn't he give himself some time before he makes a decision?" Max felt slightly guilty about his morning irritability.
"It's not as though he has family there." Celine shook the lettuce leaves and placed them in a basket to drain.
"You're the only family he has here," Max pointed out.
"That's better than nothing. I still don't like the idea of him being on his own. Max ...?"
He had a sinking premonition, even as he said, "What is it?"
"This is a big house for the two of us. Would you mind if Dad moved in with us for a while?"
, Yes, he would mind, Max knew. He minded that he could I never read his own newspaper when he wanted to, that he ' was woken each morning by stealthy door-closings and un accustomed stirrings and the sound of the plumbing working. He minded that last Sunday evening his father-in-law
had sat in a comer alternately grumbling because he didn't understand the plot of the TV play they were watching, and noisily shaking and folding the pages of the Sunday paper.
There were a lot of things that he minded. And he knew that every one of them was trivial, that he was a selfish human being to be minding at all when Ted had so recently lost his loved wife, when the older man had so much more to complain about.
"How long?" he asked Celine cautiously.
"Well, until he settles on something. If he does sell the house, I thought he might buy a flat in Auckland, but this afternoon he mentioned something about a retirement home."
"Is he ready for that? What about one of those villages where you can buy a flat, and later
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