“Aw, Mom . . .”
“Well, I do. I owe you an apology. I’m really sorry for how I acted the other day when you came into the bathroom. I had no right to bark at you and say the things I said. I know I hurt your feelings.”
“Yeah, well, I figured out why.”
“And you called Grandpa and told him to have a talk with me, right?”
“Well, you wouldn’t listen to me.”
She arranged the covers across his chest and tipped forward, pinning him in place with the blankets. “You’re a very perceptive young man, Joey Reston. You’re going to make some woman an exceptional husband someday.” She pecked him on the face.
“And it won’t be long either. I just asked Sandy to marry me and she said yes. We’re thinking maybe we’ll go to school one more year and then do it.”
Lee’s mouth dropped open. Before the adrenaline reached her extremities, he laughed in falsetto and said, “Just kidding, Mom.”
“Oh my God . . .” She put a hand to her heart. “You scared the living daylights out of me!”
“Just getting even for that tongue-lashing you gave me in the bathroom. I didn’t think the waffles and the apology would quite cover it.”
With the edge of a fist she thanked him on the chest. “You inconsiderate brat.”
“Yeah, but you love me, right?”
“I do.” She was laughing inside. “Yes, I surely do.” She sat a moment on her son’s bed, feeling happiness come and flood her, feeling things finally falling into place. “Well, I guess I’d better get going so I’m there when Christopher gets home.”
“Tell him hi from me. And if he says yes, tell him he better be able to pee into the toilet bowl without getting any on the floor if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Joseph Reston!”
“G’night, Mom. Have a good time.”
“Just you wait till April Fools’ Day. I’m gonna get you so good.”
“Hey, listen, woman. I gotta get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a school day.”
“All right, all right, I’m going.”
She kissed him once more and headed for the door. As she reached it he said, “Seriously, Mom, I’m glad for you.”
With a happy heart, she smiled and turned off the hall light.
* * *
ITwas 11:15 when she reached Christopher’s place. Approaching his door she felt a quivering of anticipation within, the kind of anticipation a woman in her mid-forties believes gone with her salad days— that green, burgeoning optimism that she’d had when she’d married Bill, fresher perhaps because this love she felt was so unsought. It had chosen her; she had not chosen it. What a fool she’d been to let her family rob her of this happiness for even so short a time. This was her life, hers alone, and life was not a dress rehearsal. Fleet and final as it was, she owed herself the taking of all the happiness she could get from it, and Christopher was the key to so much of that happiness. She knocked and waited, holding a vision of him inside her head and an eagerness within her heart. In seconds his voice came from the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” Ever the policeman, ever cautious.
“It’s Lee.”
The dead bolt clacked and the door opened, bumping aside his black work shoes, which sat on the rug. He stood before her in stocking feet, still dressed in his uniform, his hair pressed flat from the rim of his hat, holding a yellow plastic container of microwave Beefaroni from which a spoon protruded. The room smelled like the freshly heated food.
“Well, this is a surprise.”
“Not at all. We both knew the other day at school that we couldn’t stay apart.”
“You might have known but I didn’t. I thought it was really over for good.”
She offered a fey smile, letting her eyes wander up to his hair, down to his dear blue eyes and full lips. “Would you mind, officer Lallek, if I came in there and kissed you?”
She stepped over his shoes, unceremoniously took him in her arms and kissed him. He kissed her, too, holding her with one arm while the other hand was occupied by his snack. It was a kiss of sentimental sweetness, unrushed rather than unruly. She fit so nicely beneath his downturned head with its neatly trimmed hair and closed eyes. The shape and texture of his lips and tongue were as familiar to Lee as the interior of her own mouth. She took her time enjoying the kiss, washing him with an almost lazy swoop of her tongue that said she had been a very silly woman, indeed. When the kiss ended they stood peacefully, smiling at each other.
“Mmm . . . what are you eating?”
“Beefaroni.”
“Tastes good.”
“You want one? I can heat one for you.”
“Hm-mm . . . wouldn’t taste nearly as good firsthand. Would you like to finish yours though?”
“Not particularly, now that you’re here.”
“Do anyway. I’ll watch.”
He grinned wryly. “You’ll watch?”
She rested her forearms against his bullet-proof vest and traced the outline of his lips with an index finger. “I’ll watch these,” she murmured, “closing around the spoon and moving while you chew. I’ve missed watching these.”
He chuckled and said, “We police officers meet all kinds.”
“Eat your cheap noodles,” she said in a rich caviar voice.
He freed his hands and stood before her plying the spoon, keeping his eyes on her over the plastic cup. When his mouth was full she kissed his cheek, which was puffed slightly, its muscles shifting as he chewed. He smiled, swallowed and said, “You miss me or what?”
“Huh-uh. That’s not why I’m going to marry you. I’m going to marry you so you can level my washing machine and mow my grass, shovel my snow, stuff like that.”
The spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. He leaned back to give himself ample space to see her face. “You’re going to marry me?”
“Yes, I am, officer Lallek. I’m going to elope with you.”
“Elope!”
“Quicker than you can say Chef Boyardee Beefaroni.”
“You don’t say.”
“I’m tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. I’m tired of sleeping alone and eating alone and watching you cruise by my house at night when you think I’m sleeping and I won’t see you.”
“Since when did—”
“I saw you. You went past on Sunday night at ten, and the next night just before you got off duty, and plenty of other nights, too.”
“How about tonight?”
“I wasn’t home. I was out with Lloyd getting preached to. Then when I got home I took a bath and put perfume behind my knees and put on clean underwear and told Joey I was coming over here to propose to you.”
“Is that so? Clean underwear? And perfume where?”
“In all the places where two can enjoy it more than one.”
“Here, hold this.” He handed her the container, then swung her up like a hammock in his arms and ordered, “Flip that dead bolt.”
When she had, he carried her to the kitchen where the bright lights were lit over the table and the silverware drawer hung open.
“Set that down on the cabinet,” he ordered.
She got rid of the container, then doubled her arms around his neck while he carried her to the bedroom. Above the bed he released her knees, letting her slide down his body until she knelt on the mattress. Holding her face in both hands, he kissed her, a long flowing river of a kiss upon which they drifted together, with the promise of a much longer ride ahead. When it ended they remained close, breathing on each other in the dark, setting their hearts on a straight, mutual course toward permanence. The levity they’d shared at her arrival had been dispelled by the import of this solemn moment.
“Christopher, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I loved you and I listened to them. I’m sorry.”
“It’s been hell without you.”
“For me, too.”
“I didn’t want to come between you and your family though. I still do
n’t.”
“Lloyd made me see that it’s their problem, not ours. If they love me they’ll accept you, and they love me. I know they do, so I’m willing to give them a second chance. Will you marry me,
Christopher?”
“I’d marry you here and now if I could.”
“I meant it when I said I want to elope. Do you think we could?”
“You’re serious!” he said, surprised anew.
“Yes, I am. I’m not giving anyone a chance to influence me again. I just want us to get on a plane and go someplace. The only one I’ll tell is Lloyd, because I’ll have to ask him if he can stay at the house with Joey while we’re gone. I always thought it would be so romantic to be married in a garden. Do you think we could use the tickets to Longwood Garden, or is it still winter in Pennsylvania?”
“I’m afraid it’s still winter there. But it’s spring down South. Maybe we could find someplace down there.”
“Oh, do you mean it, Christopher? You’ll really do it?”
“I have vacation time coming. I can talk to my sergeant and see what they’ll give me off. For a reason as good as this they might be willing to rearrange the schedule.”
“Oh good. Now could we quit making plans and take this metal vest off you? It’s such a nuisance.”
While he began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, she walked on her knees to the far side of the bed and fell to all fours to switch on a bedside lamp. By its light she returned to him, taking over her share of the duties she so relished, ridding him of the vesture that symbolized his profession, which had brought the two of them together. While they undressed she wondered as she had so often—did Greg know? Could he smile down from some celestial plane and see how happy the two of them were? Did he grin and say, “Nice work, Grandpa?” Had he found his little brother somewhere up there, and were the two of them pleased at this mortal bliss their mother and Greg’s best friend had found?
As the last pieces of clothing dropped, her wondering ceased and she fell with Christopher, already embraced. And in their reach and flow to one another they became splendid beings celebrating not only their bodies but also their love.
IT took them two days to find the proper garden and make arrangements. On the third, a Thursday, they fiew to Mobile, Alabama, where they rented a car and drove straight to the Mobile Infirmary. There they had the required blood tests and walked out four hours later with the results. These they took to the Mobile County Courthouse at the intersection of Government and Royal streets, where they bought their wedding license and made arrangements with one Richard Tarvern Johnson, the administrative assistant to the judge of probate, to meet them the following morning at eleven o’clock at the near end of the bridge spanning Mirror Lake in Bellingrath Gardens. Lee Reston had never before seen azaleas blooming in their natural-habitat. She saw them on her wedding day, more than 250,000 plants, some of them nearly 100 years old, in every conceivable shade of pink, cascading from bushes higher than her head, lining pathways, surrounding the boles of moss-draped water oaks, reflected in the pools, lakes and in the current of the Isle-aux-Oies River, beside which the Bellingrath estate had been built.
The gardens sprawled over an 800-acre setting, boasting latticed bowers, sparkling fountains, bubbling cascades, verdant lawns and flowers . . . everywhere flowers. Christopher had trouble keeping Lee moving while they walked toward their rendezvous with Johnson. She kept gazing overhead at the immense oaks and sighing, “Ohh, look.” And at rainbows of tulips and daffodils lining the walkways. “Oh, look at those. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.” And at the flood of purple hyacinths that turned the air to ambrosia. “Oh, smell them, Christopher! I think I’m getting dizzy, they smell so grand!”
He tugged on her hand. “Come along, sweetheart, we’ll tour the gardens later on. We don’t want to be late for our own wedding.”
The bridge at Mirror Lake was arched, with wooden latticework supporting its railings. It spanned the lake across which could be seen the rockery and the summer house, each surrounded by colorful blooms. At the near end of the bridge, Johnson, the marriage official of Mobile County, was waiting. He was a dyed-in-the-wool southerner with the accent to prove it, a man in his mid-forties, with thinning blond hair, glasses and a smile that said he much preferred the jewelled setting of Bellingrath to the libraryish rooms of the courthouse where he usually performed his nuptial duties.
He had sold them their wedding license the previous day and recognized them as they approached.
“Good mornin’, Mister Lallek, Mizz Reston. And a fine one it is for a weddin’.”
“Good morning, Mister Johnson,” they returned in unison.
“Aren’t these azaleas something? I swear.”
Christopher said, “Mrs. Reston owns a florist shop. I’ve had trouble getting her here without dawdling.”
Johnson chuckled and said, “A place like this would make anyone dawdle. Well . . . shall we get started?”
There were only the three of them: Johnson in his business suit; Lee in a taupe organdy dress and high heels, holding a single calla lily; Christopher in a navy blue suit with a fragrant gardenia in his lapel. Only the three of them and a pair of swans on the lake behind them, and off to one side a wading flock of sunset-colored flamingos going about their business of eating their lunch and standing on one leg while digesting it. Some finches chittered to one another in the low flowers beside the lake, and an occasional sparrow or warbler tattled from the water oak above their head.
No guests to seat.
No caterers bustling in the wings.
No pomp or circumstance.
Only two people in love, relaxed on their wedding day.
“We can do this however you prefer,” Johnson said. “I’m here to make it official. I can read some words from a book or you can say whatever you like.”
Christopher and Lee looked at each other. He was holding her Instamatic camera. She was holding her lily. Neither of them had given a thought to ceremony. Truly, it had been celebrated on the night they’d agreed to do this, with only the two of them present.
Christopher decided. “I’d like to say something myself.”
“So would I.”
“Very well,” Johnson agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Christopher set the camera on the grass at their feet and held both of Lee’s hands.
“Well . . .” he said, then halted to do some thinking. He looked into her eyes, then blew out a breath containing a trace of a laugh, because he had no idea what to say. At last he made a good start.
“I love you, Lee, I’ve loved you for long enough to know that you make a better person of me, and I think that’s important. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I promise to be faithful, and to help you raise Joey, and to take care of both of you the best I can. I promise to be good to you and to take you to as many gardens as we can possibly see in the rest of our life, and to respect you and love you till my dying day, which won’t be hard at all.” He smiled and she did, too. “Oh, and one more thing. I promise to respect your family, too, and to show them in every way I know how that this marriage was the right thing for both of us.” He paused for thought. “Oh, the ring . . .” He fished it from his pocket, not the immense rock he’d tried to give her earlier, but a plain gold band they’d chosen together, one with no jewels that would have to be left in the dresser drawer, just a sturdy circle that could stand up to the daily beating to which it would be subjected.
“I love you,” he said, slipping it on her finger. “And you were right. This ring is much better because you’ll never have to take it off.” He smiled directly into her eyes, then said to Johnson, “I guess that’s all.”
Johnson nodded and said, “Mizz Reston?”
She looked down at Christopher’s hands within her own, then up at his face, wholly happy and at peace.
“You’ve been such a gift to me, Christopher. You came into my life when I least expected it, at a
time when I needed someone so badly. Little did I know that I’d fall in love with you. How lucky I am that I did. And I’ll keep loving you till the end of our days. I’ll be there for you when your job gets you down. I know it’s not always easy to be a policeman’s wife, but who knows better than I what I’m getting into? I promise that I’ll support you in all the causes you espouse, especially with kids, because I’m sure that Judd won’t be the last one you’ll be a stand-in father to. I’ll do whatever I can for them, and I’ll give you the freedom to do what you must for them. I’ll make a home for us, and it will always be open to your friends . . . and your family, if you choose. I’ll go to every garden on the face of this earth that you’re willing to take me to.” She smiled broadly, winning a smile from him. Soon her expression softened. “Somehow the old words are best . . . in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, till death do us part. That’s how I’ll love you.” Gently, she said, “Give me the other ring.”
He took it from his pocket and she put it on his finger, then kissed it. Raising her eyes again to his, she whispered, “I love you, Christopher.”
“I love you, Lee.”
They kissed. Behind them on the water a pair of swans floated toward each other, and for an instant as they passed, their heads and necks formed a heart, as if a blessing were being extended upon the vows just spoken.
Mr. Johnson said, “Let it be known that the state of Alabama recognizes this marriage as true and legal and that a record of it will be kept on file in the Mobile County Courthouse.”
The ceremony was over but had been so brief it left a lull of uncertainty, as if the bride and groom were thinking, Shouldn’t it have taken longer? Johnson made it official. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lallek.” He shook both their hands and said, “Now if you’ll sign the wedding certificate, that’ll about do it.”
When they’d both signed, he snapped a picture of them with Lee’s camera. Then a passing tourist snapped one of all three of them.
“Well, good luck to you both,” Johnson bid.
He left them there beside the lake, chuckling into each other’s eyes because in some respects the few official words spoken by him seemed like a farce. Vows were, after all, a thing of the heart, not of recorded signatures and dates.