The Housemaid’s Wedding: A Short Story

Before I can turn the doorknob to the coat closet, keys jingle in the lock to the front door.

Oh my God, it’s Enzo. He’s back.

I release the knob, my shoulders sagging. I wanted to be brave, but I am so relieved I don’t have to do this alone. It will be so much better now that he’s here. Two against one is always better.

The door swings open, and my fiancé is standing in the doorway, minus one pale-blue wedding dress. He is wearing a coat over his jeans and T-shirt, and there is snow dotting the shoulders. He has a smile on his face, but it vanishes and his black eyes go wide when he sees me.

“Millie,” he gasps. “What are you doing with that knife?”

The fingers of my right hand are still closed around the handle of the butcher knife. I’m not quite sure how to explain this one without telling him everything. “I… I saw a mouse.”

He cocks his head to the side. “I thought we use traps for that?”

I try to smile, but only one side of my lips moves upward. “I was improvising.”

“I see…” He closes and locks the front door behind us. The deadbolt is now secured in place, which is great, except the intruder might already be inside. “Where did the mouse go?”

“Uh…” I look over at the closet next to me. There are no sounds coming from inside or any indication that it contains anything but coats. “The closet. Do you, um, want to check?”

Enzo is still staring at the knife in my hand. “I think a broom might be better, yes?”

Except I am not letting go of this knife. Not until I am absolutely sure that nobody is inside our closet.

Sweetheart, I have been getting threatening calls all morning. I don’t think there is anyone hiding in our closet, but there might be. I’m getting a teensy bit worried, but I don’t want this to ruin the happiest day of our lives. So… could you just check the closet for me real quick?

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say them. I will tell him everything—tomorrow. Anyway, we’re going to be leaving for city hall soon. I won’t be alone at any point today. This will be fine.

Nobody is going to slit my throat in the immediate future.

Enzo strides over to the closet before I can stop him. My fingers tighten around the handle of the knife as his fingers close around the knob. As he wrenches the door open, he lets out a gasp. I raise the blade of the knife, ready to strike.

“Millie,” he says, “why do you have so many boots?”

What?

He crouches down and pulls out a pair of knee-high leather boots. He holds them up accusingly. “You have no dresses, but you have five kinds of boots? Why is this?”

“I like boots,” I admit weakly. “And those were on sale.”

He shakes his head. “Well, I do not see a mouse. So you can lower your weapon.”

I lower the knife, but I’m not quite ready to let go of it. I do feel vindicated though. I knew that asshole on the phone wasn’t in my closet. I mean, I was pretty sure.

“By the way,” he says as he tosses my shoes back in the closet, “I thought of another name as I was giving my friend your dress.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Violet.”

I raise my eyebrows. “My dress is blue, you know.”

“Yes, but Blue is not a good name for a girl.”

“I don’t know. I’m not really feeling Violet. How about Cyan?”

He frowns the way he always does when somebody says a word in English that he doesn’t know. “What is a Cyan?”

“It’s a color. Sort of a mix between green and blue.”

“I thought it was a poison used to kill people.”

“That’s cyanide.”

“Same thing.” His gaze drops to the knife still clutched in my right hand. “Do you want to put the knife away now, Millie? I think we are safe from the mouse.”

Actually, I’d like to hold on to the knife, but I can’t spend my wedding day walking around with a knife in my hand. So very reluctantly, I return to the kitchen and put it back in the block.

I’ve got Mace in my purse, after all.