Forever and Ever, Amen I Do Part Two

Forever and Ever, Amen

I Do – Part Two

by

Reagan Kavanagh

This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on original works is intended. © Reagan Kavanagh 2007

REAGAN
The details were as ‘done’ as they’d ever be, and we were down to the wire. Dee and I were leaving in an hour for Tyler to collect Randy and his entourage at the airport there, and the two of us would be at my mother's home in Palestine when Max and Terry arrived on Wednesday night. Dee would move into a room at the motel with Terry; Max would bring the pups with him as we'd be staying at the house.

The guys – and I include Sooze in that descriptor – had taken the added measure of shutting down the physical aspect of the firm on Friday. Wedding preparations aside, that was the day after Thanksgiving, and few would expect the doors to be open. All office calls and faxes would be forwarded to cell phones and the fax machines that would be in all hotel rooms and my childhood home; if a crisis arose, the chopper would be dispatched from Dallas to the tiny airport in Palestine to pick up whoever had to handle it, with the singular exception of the groom. We had the alternatives planned should one of the guys be called out; Dee would step in for Terry and Sooze for Max as neither one of them had formal duties assigned for this wedding. It would be odd, but with the nature of the business, it would work. If Dee served as ‘best man,’ it would look a bit strange, but that was our collective lifestyle. We’d explained that to Rosemary, and though it did sound a bit unusual to her, she’d agreed to the contingency plan.

“Well, if that happens, it will sure as Hell be a wedding this town will never forget!”

Dee and I did Ellie's bridal shower two weeks ago. By the time we got to her house after establishing Randy and company at the Holiday Inn, the place looked like a combination of florist’s and gift shops. There were flowers from old clients wishing her well, and at least a dozen gift boxes not yet opened. I have a key to her house. When she hadn’t answered the bell, I let us in. Ellie was sitting at her dining table with her head resting on one hand and looked up wearily.

“How fucking long did it take you to write all the thank-you notes, Reags?”

“You don’t want to know, but you’ll be glad you’ve already started them. How many have you done?”

“I don’t know exactly, but this is the second box I’ve opened, and I’m no where near finished.” I picked up the box of engraved notes – Mr. And Mrs. Dean Patrick O'Reilly – sitting on the table …50 notes. A lot of people love both Ellie and Dino.

“You can always do what I did. Stop now, and let Dino help you with them when you get home from your wedding trip.”

“You think he’d do that?”

“I’d bet on it. Max was more than willing to help me. Of course that may have been self-preservation, as he hates listening to me complain. I had a number of them done before the wedding, and together we spent an hour a night after we came home from Banff. They were all done in just over a week.”

“At least there’s hope.”

She was clearly exhausted, and Dee swept into motion. She picked up the notes but for the one Ellie was writing, re-boxed them, and put the box on the piano.

“Enough, Ellie. One reason Reags and I came down early was to distract you and make sure you don’t lose your mind before Saturday. Have you had lunch?” That got us a weary shake of her head.

“Then get dressed. We’re taking you to lunch.” It was a measure of Ellie’s fatigue that she didn’t argue but dragged herself off to her bedroom in compliance with Dee’s order. When she returned she was complaining about not being able to sleep in her own bed. In true Southern tradition, she'd moved into her mom's house over the past weekend and would remain there until the wedding.

DIANA
The last time I saw anyone look as beat as Ellie was Reags during the week before she and Max got married. At least Ellie didn’t look as if a starving third-world family had moved out of the seat of her jeans. I hadn’t seen Ellie's wedding dress – only Reags as matron of honor had – but it probably wouldn’t need the alterations we’d had done at the last minute for Reags. It was a small wedding in terms of attendants with Reags as matron-of-honor and Terry as best man. It was set for eleven o’clock on Saturday in the First Methodist Church of Palestine. Both Dino and Ellie were Catholic like Reags, but as both of them admitted to having been in backslide mode for years, she wasn’t up to asking the local priest to marry them. She said she only knew the man to speak to him, and as Reags is inclined to say, the Methodists will marry anyone who professes some sort of faith. Ellie's comment to Reags and me was that she was a Catholic-in-Remission, and God would forgive her for the heresy of marrying outside ‘The Church.’ We’d all laughed at that one because Reags and Max had also been married by a Methodist minister. Ah, the things we do for love.

Reags called Ellie’s mom – Rosemary – before we left the house, and she was meeting us at El Toro on the Loop. It’s the oldest Mexican restaurant in town, and both Ellie and Reags swear it’s the best. I doubt it can match the Candle Lite Inn at home, but Reags says it’s close. Rosemary lived in the housing addition just across the highway from El Toro and was waiting when we walked in the door. Of course ‘Mama’ greeted all of us with a hugs and kisses, even though she’d only met me twice. I smiled when I remembered that first meeting almost a year ago. ‘Honey, if Ellie likes you, that’s more than good enough for me.’ Her easy acceptance made me wish again that I could have met Reags’ mother. I know the two mothers had been close friends, and their daughters were the dearest friends I'd ever had.

This was Wednesday – we were having Thanksgiving at Rosemary’s tomorrow – and after lunch we headed to her house to help her with anything that could be done in advance. Reags had offered to make the pies and had brought the ingredients with her, including eggs, milk, cream, and pie pans. All she’d need from Rosemary was to borrow her mixer. I was making salads and relish trays and had all my stuff with me, too. We planted Ellie at the kitchen table where she could talk with us and got to work.

Rosemary was working on the mandatory cornbread dressing and started chopping the onions and celery. Reags had her first pie – pecan – in the oven within 20 minutes and started on the mince followed by a pumpkin chiffon pie that Max loves. She would be doing an apple-cranberry one, too, and she swore I’d like it even though I’m not that crazy about cranberries. Time – and a taste – will tell.

By four that afternoon we’d done as much damage as possible before tomorrow and sat down with drinks and take-out pizza in Rosemary’s lounge. The guys hadn't arrived yet but should be in soon. Reags announced that in only six to eight more months, she’d be able to join us in cocktails. I hadn’t realized until she made that comment that you don’t drink when you’re breastfeeding; of course I’d asked why she wanted to breastfeed. That got me a look of horror, along with yet another lecture on the health benefits and psychological bonding with your child that are the concomitants of breastfeeding. Someday I’m going to learn to keep my mouth shut.

“Besides, Dee, Max would have a coronary if I didn’t breastfeed. It’s all he knows.” Well, yes, there is that. I stifled my laughter when Rosemary asked the question.

“How’s that, Honey? Surely that man of yours has seen someone feed a baby with a bottle.” Get yourself out of this one, ‘Honey.’

“You know how men are, Rosemary. His mother breastfed him and his siblings, and his first wife breastfed their son. He old-fashioned enough that I doubt he’s ever even considered any other option. You and I both know it’s better for the baby.” I should have known she’d have a comeback. Just once I’d like to see her speechless, but I doubt that will ever happen.

“Well, you’re right enough about that. I swear, I look at all these sickly children today whose mamas didn’t take them to the breast and I could tell them why. It’s just better for little ones.” From the mouth of Mother Rosemary …it was as if God had spoken, and even I nodded with the rest of them.

Rosemary is an extremely likeable woman and not at all what I’d expected. Let me clarify that. I knew from talking to Ellie that her mother hadn’t gone past high school, had never worked outside the home, and Ellie’s dad had screwed around on her like Reags’ dad did to her mother. I was anticipating short (Ellie isn’t quite 5’6”), overweight, and dowdy. Imagine my surprise when ‘Mama’ was almost as tall as Reags, slender – I’ll bet a size ten dress would be loose on her – and immaculately groomed with short, well-dressed hair and skin like a baby’s. If good genes count, I hope Ellie got her mother’s because Rosemary is truly a beautiful lady. The only real indication that she’s ‘country’ – and that’s her word, not mine – is her diction. Her grammar is correct, but she does have an East Texas twang, one that Reags and Ellie have worked long and hard to erase. Rosemary took a sip of her Martini before speaking again.

“Ellen Marie, are you and Dino planning on having babies?” Ellie nearly choked on her scotch and looked at her mother.

“Well, maybe …we’ve talked about it, and both of us love children, but we’d like to get used to living with each other first. Maybe in a few years.”

“Well, I can understand wanting to get to know your husband before saddling yourself with a houseful of little ones, but remember you aren’t getting any younger.” Ellie nodded dutifully and changed the subject. I’m betting she’ll be like Reags …pregnant within a year.

“Mama, why don’t you show Reags and Dee the dress you’re wearing for the wedding? They haven’t seen it yet, and I’ll bet they’d love it.” ‘Mama’ bit, hook, line, and sinker and stood, speaking over her shoulder as she retreated to her bedroom.

“It’s pink, you know. That’s my favorite color.” I groaned inwardly …pink. Not a favorite of mine, and I was expecting ruffles and lace and something that would be appropriate for the prom queen. I had no idea as to what Rosemary’s ‘style’ was, as I’d only ever seen her in jeans or shorts with her shirt tail hanging out of them. You can imagine my surprise when she walked back into the room a couple of minutes later, dressed in the gown, and pirouetted for us.

“Wow! Rosemary, that’s beautiful.” It was, and there wasn’t a ruffle in sight. She nodded and grinned at me.

“It is, isn’t it? And I’ll bet you were expecting me to have one of those fluffy, high school prom-type dresses.” She had me there so I had to ‘fess up.

“Well, yes, I did. Reags has told me about some of the creations she’s seen on mothers of brides here over time, and it made me shudder. Thank God, you have taste and good sense. It’s a beautiful outfit, Rosemary.”

“Ellen Marie and I went to Houston to shop. I could have found something over in Tyler, but sure as hell, I’d have run into someone I know. I didn’t want every body in town knowing what I’m wearing to my daughter’s wedding before Saturday. I know it’s her day, but I’m vain enough to want the people here abouts to be surprised at my dress, too!”

“I hear you, Rosemary.” Reags was sipping water now, being of the opinion that too much Diet Coke wasn’t much better for the baby than alcohol. “My problem was a bit more difficult to resolve. There aren’t a lot of things out there for eight-months pregnant Matrons of Honour!” We all got a laugh at that, and she was right. Ellie, Reags, and I had spent two days looking before finding anything even remotely appropriate, and even then Reags had to settle for a strapless, cocktail length dress. Max loved it – of course, she’d shown it to him the night she took it home – because the way the dress draped called even more attention to her advanced pregnancy.

“Of course, Max loved it …if I weren’t so far along – and he’s almost afraid to breathe on me now – I’d have been ravished. I’m hoping I can get him past that Saturday night! I have to keep reminding the man that I CAN still have sex as long as I’m on top ….” Rosemary hooted.

“Now there’s a mental image for you! Seriously, men just don’t realize we’re not sick, just pregnant, and we still have wants just like they do.”

“I do appreciate the fact that he’s so concerned, but at times he takes it a little too far. From the time he found out his first wife was pregnant he didn’t touch her until their son was almost six-months-old. I’m sure the fact that he was deployed for her pregnancy and didn’t get home until after Marcus was born helped a lot with that resolve, but he’s inclined to take some things to extremes. I’ve told him that not touching me bit until this baby is six-months-old business is NOT going to fly this time round!”

I don’t know about anyone else, but if Max does that this time, I don’t want to see Reags until the baby is seven-months-old, and she’s gotten laid a few times. She’s a really cranky bitch when she’s horny.

DINO
Dee and Reags left for Palestine on schedule. Terry, Max, Sooze, Dolores, Sarah, and yours truly will leave after work today. I’m getting married Saturday, and today I’m sitting here counting down the hours until we close up shop for the holiday weekend. All I can do is look at the clock and watch the hours crawl by.

I patted my pocket for what was probably the 53^rd time today. Yep, the ring box with Ellie’s wedding ring was still there. Mine was in Palestine with Reags. Max wore a wedding ring, at least until he broke his finger, and I was looking forward to the world knowing I was a married man with a wife waiting for him at home. I wondered if Dee and Terry would ever jump the broom …and if they did, if Terry would wear a ring consistently. He's worn the gold and silver ring Dee got him intermittently but carried it constantly. Max and I’d talked about the fact that when either of us was called back to the field, we’d leave the rings at home with our wives. Rings and a possible go-loud situation don’t mix. Max didn't quite hold to that decision; he hadn't taken off his ring before we left for Nigeria, and he kept it on the entire time we were there.

But for the Nigerian gig that ended this past weekend, he’d not been in the field since he and Reags tied the knot. She’d been in the accident and been fragile for so long, then they’d started trying to get pregnant. Neither Terry nor I had wanted him in the field so close to Reags’ due date, but sometimes you can’t have what you want. I sighed when I looked at the clock again …a quarter to noon. It was going to be a long, fucking afternoon. Tio stuck his head in my door.

“Mate, let’s call it a day and head south. It’s quiet, and we’re all connected, so we might as well be connected from Palestine.” I don’t think I’d ever shut down my office faster.

MAXIMUS
Terry had stopped in my office before going to speak with Dino.

“You got any problem with us shutting it down now and going to Palestine?”

“None whatever. Dino is worthless – as was I in his position – and we may as well be with those we love this evening. Perhaps we may assist the women in enjoying this time before the final preparations for the marriage rites begin on Friday.” I shut down my computer, picked up my briefcase, and slipped into my coat. Terry and I would ride to Palestine in Cassandra’s Hummer as I would detour by the farm and collect the dogs – and he would return with Diana after the wedding. Dino would leave his car in Palestine and collect it there after his and Ellen’s wedding trip.

Cassandra has spent the time since her arrival in Palestine at her parents' home with Diana. Tonight I would visit that home for the first time. She had not sold the house following the death of her mother, retaining the property as an investment, and making a day trip to check its condition two or three times a year. There was a large, fenced yard, and the dogs would have ample room for exercise. This would be Caesar’s first visit to that house; he would keep himself occupied for much of tomorrow as his nose to the ground would tell him all he wished to know about his new location.

Terry and I made the trip to my farm in good order and changed from our business attire there, slipping into jeans and flannel shirts for the remainder of the drive. I herded the dogs into the rear deck of the Hummer, and we resumed our drive. Three hours after leaving the office, I drove into the car drive of Cassandra's childhood home. There was no sign of the vehicles they had driven to Palestine, and we surmised our women were at Ellen’s or Rosemary's home. A short drive confirmed that belief. Cassandra heard the barking of the dogs through the open window of our vehicle and came out the door to meet us.

Terry and I greeted Diana, Ellen and Dino who had arrived earlier, and Ellen’s mother, Rosemary. Cassandra and I quickly took our leave for her parents’ home after promising to return once we had settled the dogs. She spoke as I backed from the drive.

“I’m glad you’re here. I hate going into that house alone; at least Dee was with me last night. There are a few too many unpleasant memories for me there. Perhaps I can start building better ones now that you’re here.” I reached across the console and took her hand in mine.

“We shall not build memories of ourselves alone, Cara. In time, the house will ring with the sound of children’s laughter.” She smiled and nodded.

“I’d like that.”

It was but a short drive to her former residence – less than five minutes – and I cast her a sidelong glance as we pulled into the drive. She sat for a moment as if collecting herself for my entrance into this part of her life as I walked round the car to assist her in getting to the ground. She gave me the keys, and the dogs bounded toward the door and sat waiting until I opened it. We followed them inside, and I stopped in the lounge and looked round. It was a large house and comfortably appointed. Cassandra walked to the back door and opened it, sending the dogs out to relieve themselves before turning back to me.

“Come with me, and I’ll give you the Cook’s Tour.”

The dining room was to the right of the entry hall. A breakfront stood on one wall, crystal and china shining through the glass front; a dining table that would seat ten stood in the centre of the room. We returned to the entry hall and walked through to the lounge again. The kitchen and an adjoining utility room were to the right. Beside the doors opening to the back yard was a large fireplace. Two chairs and a couch with the appropriate end and coffee tables were arranged round the room; the television set was in a corner and visible from all areas of the room.

She led me down the hall, opening doors as she went. A bath on the right across from a bedroom she identified as her own as a child. The next bedroom on that side was her mother’s. Across the hall was a third bedroom. She opened the door and stood back …the master suite, with its own bath.

“This was my father’s room.” Her father’s room?

“Your parents did not share a bed room and a bed?” My wife’s face was grim as she shook her head in the negative.

“That stopped shortly after I was born. I have no memory of them ever sharing a bed. Some marriage, wasn’t it?” I was unsure of my feelings …was I horrified, appalled, or both?

“You don’t have to comment, Max. That was my parents’ marriage, not ours.”

“I cannot conceive of a marriage in which the principals did not share a bed. Even in that first life, a man and his wife continued to occupy the same bed, though each might have other lovers. That was a matter of public and private expectation.”

“If my parents had continued to share a bed after my father starting screwing round on my mother, she’d likely have smothered him with a pillow. I’d not have missed him very much, but I’d have missed her terribly after the court sent her to prison.” She is brutally honest in this fact as in all other aspects of her life. I shook my head in sadness.

“I regret you had to learn the realities of their relationship at so early an age. They should have protected you.”

“Mother did as far as she could. Whenever they had people over to the house, Mother’s room was always identified as the guest room. My father would have killed her if she’d not gone along with the lie …remember I told you that, for him, what people thought was paramount. Before guests arrived, he always moved her personal articles from her room and put them in his to make it appear they occupied the same room. She moved them back to her room after everyone left. We all lived a lie.”

ELLEN
“I’m glad you came down early.” We were in the kitchen, and Mama was pouring drinks as I stood in the circle of Dino’s arms. He grinned down at me.

“Any last minute regrets? Thinking about running? If so, you’d better head for the hills now, because once I put that second ring on your finger Saturday, you’re stuck with me.” Trust Mama to have something to say.

“Ellen Marie, if you take off now, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you myself. If you’re stupid enough to let the best man you’ve ever known get away, you don’t deserve to live.”

“I’m not going anywhere …well, other than to Church on Saturday to shove a ring on HIS finger and then something called a honeymoon!”

“Rosemary, I know you may have objections, but I’d …,” and she cut him off in mid-sentence.

“You can sleep with her tonight and tomorrow night, but you’re leaving this house Saturday morning before she gets out of bed. I’ll risk your seeing her when she wakes up Saturday, but after that, you’re gone until we all get to the Church. I’m not taking any chances on jinxing this marriage.” He looked at me as he grinned.

“I’m getting the feeling she approves.”

NOTES

Jump the Broom

In the era of slavery in the deep South, slaves were not permitted to marry. In defiance of that “rule,” they developed their own ceremonial rites, to include the couple jumping over a broom laid on the ground to seal their union. The symbolism of the broom is the sweeping away of an old life and the initiation of the new. The statement is still in common usage today in the South and Southwestern states.

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