“Oh, love, its about time you settled down. Just look at youripe for it! Take Simon, for instance. A proper strong bloke, arms like sledgehammers. Bends horseshoes without breaking a sweat. Hed carry you in his arms like a princess,” Mum mused, eyeing her daughter, Emily.
Emily burst out laughing. “Oh yes, hed pick me up and bend me like one of his horseshoes, wouldnt he? Then Id spend the rest of my days dragging my nose through the dirt!”
“Dont be daft! Im being serious, and here you are giggling like a schoolgirl. Youd do well to listenI know whats best. And I know exactly who youve set your heart on. But mark my words, that Andrewll make a terrible husband,” Mum sighed.
Emily spun around. “Whats wrong with him? Hes hardworking! Their cottage is the tidiest in the village. All the outbuildings are in order. Oursll be the same!”
Now it was Mums turn to laugh. “And who dyou think keeps it that way, eh? His older brother, Greg. That lads got magic in his hands. Your Andrews only got eyes for his accordion and the nearest hayloftdragging you silly girls in one after the other.”
“Mum, dont talk nonsense! Gregs disabledhis heads always tilted, hes hunched, one legs shorter than the other. Hows he managing all that work, then?” Emily challenged.
“Well, pop round theirs in the daytimepretend youre helping Auntie Louise pick apples. Then youll see for yourself,” Mum suggested.
Emily took the advice and went. When she arrived, Andrew was napping under the porch. She nudged him. “Thought you were fixing the roof with your dad early this morning? You sent me home early last night saying you had to be up at dawn!”
He yawned. “Whatre you doing here, checking up on me? Ive not even asked you to marry me yet. Too soon for that.”
“Too soon, is it? Fine. Im just helping your mum with the apples. Theres a mountain of emjoin me?”
Andrew scoffed. “Not likely. Let the whole village laugh at me? Look at Andy, doing womens work! No thanks. You run along and help Mum.” He rolled over.
Emily was stung. Just last night, hed held her close and called her his love. She grabbed a basket and headed to Auntie Louise.
As she picked apples, she heard hammering behind the cottage. Curiosity got the better of her. “Whats Uncle Peter building? I thought everything was in order?”
Auntie Louise sighed. “Thats not Peterits Greg. My Peters laid upthrew his back out lifting some scrap iron. But Greg? He cant sit stillalways fixing or making something. Not like Andrew. That lads only keen on his own fun. But we dont say a word. Gregll never marrywhod have him? Andrews our hope for grandchildren. Thats just how it is, love. If youre that curious, go take a peek. But mindhes shy. Might bolt if he sees you.”
Emily carried her basket toward the noise. Greg sat on a bench, whittling a piece of wood.
“Hello,” she said softly. “Can I see?” Greg flinched but didnt run. He handed her the carving. Her own face stared backdelicate, unmistakable.
“Is this… me?” Emily whispered. Greg nodded. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back garden. She nearly panickedshould she scream or run?but then they were inside a tiny shed.
And there she was. Emily. In clay, in wood, even sketched on scraps of paper. “Why?” was all she could ask.
His voice was rough. “Just… youre beautiful. Not like me.” He turned away. His shoulders shook, and Emily reached out to hug him.
“Dont be silly. I never knew. You… you love me?” she asked. He forced himself to look at her, and she saw his eyesblue as a summer lake, brimming with such devotion it frightened her. She fled.
Back home, Greg collapsed at the table. “Whyd you have to bring me into the world like this? Shouldve drowned me at birth. Everyone loves Andrewthey recoil from me like Ive got the plague. She ran from me, Mum. I cant bear it if she marries him. Ill end it”
His mother stroked his hair, tears in her eyes. “Hush now. You think I could harm my own child? Emilys a good girlany mand be lucky to have her. And Andrew? He doesnt love her. I see it. Your turnll come, Greg. Fate finds us all.”
Meanwhile, Emily couldnt forget Gregs eyes. Shed never seen such love. And strangest of all? She hadnt even noticed his disabilities anymore.
Days later, Andrew swaggered up. “Emily! Here for me or Mum? Fancy a stroll? Shes digging potatoesor more apples to pick?”
“No,” Emily said coolly. “Im here for Greg. To apologise. You run alongplenty to do, eh? Or isnt Veronica waiting under the oak tree?” She walked past his gaping face.
The village was in uproar. Lovely Emily, marrying Greg? They whispered about pity, even witchcraft. Only Mum understoodher daughter was truly smitten. The pair sat for hours, heads bent close, laughing, never looking away.
They wed quietly. No need for guests to whisper into their wine.
Andrew played the jilted lover for the girls. “Nearly proposed to her myself! And she picks my crippled brother?”
Emily and Greg moved to the villages edge. Greg designed their cottage, building it with fierce joy (though their fathers helped). It was a pictureeveryone admired it.
They blessed their parents with two grandsons and a granddaughter.
Andrew? Still chasing skirtsonly now its older, married women. Hes been tarred and beaten, but shrugs it off.
As for Emily and Greg? Their home brims with love. Some sneer, “God gave the beauty a broken husband.”
Emily just laughs. “In thirty years, Ill be crooked too! Look at yourselvesbacks aching, joints stiff. But my Greg? Only on the outside. Inside, hes the kindest, most beautiful man alive.”
