True Beauty

Two

"Harry?" Melinda called when she heard the door open. She'd been waiting for her husband all night! Where had he been? His dinner spoiled and she was ready to retire without him. It was only eight, but he'd been gone since two this afternoon. 

"Sorry I'm late," he hustled in, kissing her cheek as he apologized. 

"You're forgiven," she smiled, returning his kiss. It was hard to stay angry with Harry, especially with that smile of his. 

"I'm happy for that. Today, while I was with the lawyer, we came to a new compromise with Father's will . . ." 

Melinda tilted her head in confusion. Harry only trailed off when he was guilty. 

"What was the new agreement?" 

"I am taking Father's house." 

She was beaming. They could finally leave this God-forsaken tenement! She absolutely hated it; crying babies every day, fighting children, drunken men screaming at their wives in the middle of the night. She would leave this very minute if she could. She looked at Harry and realised he wasn't finished. 

"What else is there?" 

He smiled, teeth and dimples showing wonderfully, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Don't worry about it. Let's go to bed." 

"Harold," Melinda stood her ground, refusing to move. He hated when she did this. She wouldn't do anything until he told her the truth.  

"Melinda, it's minor; it can wait until morning. Come on," he assured her once again, pulling her into their bedroom.  

"It's her, isn't it?" she eyed him suspiciously. 

"No!" he obviously lied. 

"What happened, Harry?" she demanded, not believing her husband for a second. "Tell me why you're taking the house and not Isabelle!" 

"Her name is Bel, Melinda," he corrected her, beating around the bush. He didn't want to tell Melinda Bel would be living with them soon. If he did, she'd blow up with anger, leaving him on the couch or in the street. She'd probably figured it out already; his lies were always explicit in his eyes. He was smart, athletic and clever, but a liar? Never. He'd always been terrible at lying. 

"Tell me; tell me or I'll make you leave, Harry! What is happening?" 

"Give Bel a chance, Melinda . . ." 

"Why should I?" she challenged, though she knew why already. Isabelle was unmarried, unemployed and couldn't own property, even if she'd inherited it. Harry could never let his younger sister go without, so he took what she couldn't have. It gives her a nice home and gets Harry and Melinda out of their current situation. It would be perfect if Melinda could actually like her sister-in-law. 

"Melinda, listen to me. You will never see Bel in the house! It's that big. You know this. When she gets married, she'll go live with her husband while we stay and raise our own family. Alright?" 

"Who would marry her?! You and I both know, Harry-" 

"She's my sister, Melinda," he cut her off, warning her silently. 

"And I'm your wife!" she retorted. 

"Melinda . . ." 

"I refuse to live with her! You know she isn't-" 

"Why can't you like her?"  

"You know why." 

"You've never admitted it." 

Melinda rolled her eyes, something most women would never do to their husbands. It would get them punished, but Harry liked it. He liked that she was different; challenging traditions, law and everything else. But he hated that she'd never admit to why she didn't like Bel. Why would she want to, though? She knows no one would accept the reason. 

Honestly, Isabelle was the nicest girl. Any man who received a second glance by her would be lucky. It didn't matter what she looked like. She was a fantastic girl. 

It wasn't her fault Harry gave a good amount of his time and energy to her. He loved her; she was his sister. But Melinda barely saw him because of this, which saddened and angered her.  

Maybe Bel living with them would get her more attention. Harry wouldn't have to constantly worry about his younger sister, because she'd be right there! 

The realisation made her smile. Why hadn't she thought that way earlier? With that problem solved, Melinda would have nothing against Bel. They could possibly be friends! There would be no tension, no bad blood. It was perfect. 

"Melinda!" 

She snapped out of her thoughts and faced her husband. She rested her hand on his chest and reached up to kiss him.  

He grinned at her, asking, "What was that for?" 

"You're a good man, Harry. I love you; good night." 

She turned away from him and climbed into bed. He had no idea what changed her mood so quickly, but he was thankful. He wasn't interested in sleeping on the couch or worse, in the gutter this evening. Melinda was a true mystery, but that was one of infinite reasons why he loved her.