Work Text:
The aroma of Valancy's stew wafted beneath the door and drew Barney back to himself. The coals had died to embers in the stove of “Bluebeard's Chamber,” as Valancy called his work room, and his hands were becoming stiff from the cold. He put down his pen, gathered up the flung pages and stacked them neatly. On the other side of the door, he would find dinner waiting, along with cozy cats and a smiling Valancy. They would have some conversation and maybe a little argument about how to spend the evening
Barney sat for a moment, idly reading over his last written page but not really paying it much attention. For what must be the millionth time, he considered telling her everything. He imagined what she would say to him if he threw this manuscript in her lap and confessed his authorial identity. Likely, he would lose her for an hour or two while she inhaled the words right off the pages. It was her one fault, he thought, getting so much enjoyment out of his rubbishy maunderings. Yet, her delight in the things he wrote pleased him, even as he scolded her for parroting his own paragraphs back at him.
And then there was his other identity, the one he'd left behind with the purple pills and his broken heart. Valancy was such a dear little friend to him now, and sometimes he believed he would find solace in revealing himself entirely to her. She was sure to have a sympathetic ear for him, and after all, what harm could it do to tell her when she soon might be...
He cut off that thought and shoved it violently out of his mind. Outside, the wind was blowing colder and the trees around the little cottage rattled bare branches. Even in the cozy lean-to, he caught the scent of snow in the air. He could hear Valancy talking nonsense to Banjo, who no doubt was answering her back, cat-like, with a wicked gleam in his eye. Dishes rattled – Valancy setting the table with their mismatched place setting for two.
Shutting the lean-to door quietly behind him, he stood and watched her stir the stew pot on the little stove and shoo Good Luck off the table. Valancy had sworn Barney to silence on the subject of her illness, and for the most part he forgot about it entirely because she seemed so hale and happy, but in quiet moments when he watched her, it couldn't be helped if his thoughts drifted to matters of the heart. His life before her seemed in some ways dream-like, and he couldn't imagine a life here in this little shack without her anymore. He should tell her everything.
Valancy looked up and, seeing him, dropped the spoon in the stew and crossed the room to greet him with open arms and a hearty kiss. She always did, even if he'd only been a few steps away in the lean-to all day long while she read a novel on the bearskin rug. Since they had married, she had held nothing of herself back from him. He scooped her up and twirled her around to cover up his guilty feelings at not reciprocating her trust and openness.
“Well, Moonlight, it should snow tonight,” he said.
“And soon, the lake will ice over and it will be time for skates,” said Valancy, ladling stew into his bowl and cutting him two thick slices of bread. She put the pitcher of water on the table, served herself, and sat across from him.
“I'll teach you to snowshoe,” he said. She smiled at him, a happy, vibrant smile. When she smiled, her eyes crinkled up just a little and her mouth stretched impishly across her face. Not beautiful, Barney thought, but... full of a strange kind of beauty.
He'd brought home skates and snowshoes for her when the weather turned truly cold. At the sight of the skates, her eyes lit up. She'd told him about learning to skate on the pond behind the school when she was a little girl. She also told him, with a wistful note in her voice, about being given galoshes when she'd been promised skates. How lonely she must have been, he'd thought, that a pair of skates were worth more than gold to her.
The lake didn't freeze solid for another week, but it snowed softly all that time, slowly building up. He and Valancy sometimes sat together on the porch to watch the snow fall, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled together, Valancy's head resting on his chest. He caught her looking up at him with an indecipherable expression once, and he leaned his head down to catch her lips to his. Her kisses were like herself – she held nothing back. They kissed until the blanket fell away and the cold drove him to pick her up and carry her inside, carry her to bed.
They had to be careful, of course, because Valancy's future was... and a child... a child was not possible. They were careful. They made love entirely, and Barney knew how to be careful, and Valancy trusted him.
Once the lake froze, they would skate far down the lake, exploring the little islets and the woods above the banks. Valancy taught herself to spin on one foot. She clamoring to her feet after a fall, laughing at herself, and a thought struck Barney all of a sudden. He skated over to brush her off while she swatted his hands away, and then he asked, “What do you want for Christmas, Moonlight?” He was thinking of the galoshes and the skates.
She smiled at him, and they skated toward home. “Something frivolous,” she said, finally. “Some completely unnecessary little thing that has no purpose or use but to be enjoyed. I never want a 'useful' Christmas gift ever again.”
Barney laughed. “So, not galoshes then.”
“Definitely not,” said Valancy.
“But you might need them,” he teased.
“I'll take my chances with wet feet,” she replied with a toss of her head. “What would you like for Christmas?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Barney said. “A good supper, I guess.”
Valancy's laugh echoed over the lake. “I'll just have to think of some little useful something for you, then,” she said. “Besides a good supper, which you were sure to get anyway.”
~*~
The minute he hit the sidewalk in Toronto, Barney was already wanting to be back in the woods again. The city closed in on him, the people pushed and jostled him, the air filled with oily smells, all making him long for open air and the smell of pine and cedar and new snow. But he had a purpose; if he couldn't be completely honest with Valancy, then at the very least he could fulfill her desire for a frivolous, useless gift. Galoshes, forsooth. Though perhaps he would get her a new umbrella, a truly hideous one, for a joke.
He'd shined himself up for the trip – one didn't walk into Aynsley's in work boots, after all – and was greeted politely by the shop manager. He looked at star sapphires and a moonstone set with diamonds and silver. Nothing seemed right. Then the manager brought out the string of pearls. They gleamed like moonlight on snow, and he could imagine them glowing softly on Valancy's throat. They were just the kind of thing she would love. He went to the bank to have a check drawn up and tucked the jewelry box into his coat.
Home lights gleamed under winter-bright stars as Barney skated up to the porch. The air snapped with cold – the temperature had dropped even more as soon as the sun set, and the wind was picking up. A pile of clouds was slowly eating up the stars. A storm on its way. He was glad he'd gone early today.
Valancy was lounging beside a lit lamp, reading. She didn't ask where he'd been – she never asked. She stood up, kissed him welcome home, and brought out the supper she'd been keeping warm for him.
“Did you read all day?” Barney asked. “That looks like a new book.”
“I went up to town and got another from the circulating library,” Valancy replied. “It's so nice to be able to read novels any time I want to. It's been ages since I lived at home, but I still look over my shoulder sometimes to see if Mother is coming up behind me to catch me reading something I ought not to. At least she let me read John Foster's books.”
“That rubbish,” Barney said, reflexively.
Valancy stuck out her tongue at him.
It stormed for nearly a week, and then it was time to gather up pine boughs and deck the little shack for the holidays. Barney watched her nimble fingers fashion little tinsel stars. She made candy, baked cookies, and teased Barney mercilessly that he was getting fat on her cooking. Old Abel brought them a goose, and around it, Valancy planned a marvelous Christmas dinner. They invited Old Abel for Christmas dinner, but he said he had better plans than to be a gooseberry in their company. So it was just him and Valancy on Christmas Day. She didn't seem to have any desire to go see her kin, content to stay tucked up in the shack with Barney and their cats.
Christmas morning dawned white and pink and silver. Barney snuck out of bed and went into Bluebeard's chamber to get the little jewelry box. He came out to find Valancy in her nightgown, holding a little parcel. They looked at each other across the room and shared a laugh.
“I was in town and saw this at the stationer's and thought of you,” Valancy said, shyly. “I don't know why, but it reminded me of you somehow. I don't know if you want it at all, and if you don't, we can go exchange it.” Her eyes flickered to the box in his hand. He'd tied a red ribbon around it.
“I was going to get you an umbrella,” he said. “For a joke. But I forgot about it.”
Valancy laughed. “Thank goodness you did. I would have jabbed you with it the minute you handed it over.”
They sat on the sofa, somehow shy with each other, and exchanged their parcels. “You first,” Barney said, and Valancy pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. Her gasp of delight was exactly what Barney had hoped to elict.
“Oh, they're beautiful, so beautiful,” she said, as he fastened them around her neck. She put her arms around him and kissed him. “You're a dear, a darling. I always wanted a string of pearls – all my life. I never dreamed I'd have them. You've fulfilled one of my heart's wishes.”
“Let's see if you did as well,” Barney teased, and Valancy poked him in the ribs. He opened the box she'd given him and found inside a Waterman fountain pen. It was a particularly nice one, inlaid with lapis lazuli. An eyedropper and inkwell nestled in the case next to the pen. “This is beautiful,” Barney said. “Not exactly a useless thing.” He stared at her, wondering if she'd broken her promise and gone into Bluebeard's Chamber after all. Did she know? Had she guessed? “What made you think of it?”
“I don't know,” Valancy said, and her look of bemusement told him that she truly didn't know. “I saw it, and... I don't know why, but I thought of you. But of course we can exchange it if it doesn't suit you.”
“I wouldn't change it for the world, Moonlight,” he said. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You sweet thing.” She knows me better than anyone, he thought. And she doesn't even know how well she knows it. He looked at her, catching her gaze. She smiled at him, and he almost, almost confessed at that moment. He wanted to. The words were on his tongue. He opened his mouth...
...and Banjo chose that moment to launch himself from the table the sofa so that Barney and Valancy had to dodge or catch a lapful of claw and fur.
“Banjo, what in the world?” Valancy laughed as Barney swiftly put the pen and ink out of reach. She stood up. “Merry Christmas, Barney,” she said, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “I'll go dress and then get us some breakfast.”
Barney went into Bluebeard's Chamber and set the pen on a shelf near his work table. Then he went back out to the front room. Valancy was already rolling out biscuits on the table. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him with a contented sigh. “Merry Christmas, Moonlight,” he said. The truth could wait another day.