by Linda Ellen
It had been nearly a week since he had dropped her off at work the morning after their night of adventure, and for him it had crawled by like molasses down a frozen slope. Only managing to connect with her once by telephone, he had been straining at the mooring ropes to see her again. He’d been tortured with longing while perfunctorily performing his duties at the plant.
Now as he stood next to her while “just one more” snapshot was taken, he hoped there wouldn’t be any telltale shots of him mooning over her like a besotted dope.
The woman is driving me goofy. Every time I get around her, I feel like I’ve been guzzling hooch, he reflected with a wry grin.
Finally, the pictures were over and the wedding party retired downstairs.
He ended up at a table next to her, of course—since they were the maid of honor and best man—and the nearness of her was driving him to distraction. Traces of her perfume kept wafting his way each time she moved, rendering him nearly spellbound. He’d pause in mid-action or word and his eyes would drift shut. Great Caesar’s Ghost, but he wanted so badly to get her alone! He yearned to see how she had fared during the week, ask if she had gotten into much trouble being late to work, ask if she’d heard from her brother…oh, ask her anything! Just to hear her voice and have her full attention seemed like what he needed to survive. How did that happen? WHEN did that happen? How did she get under my skin so deep? He wondered if she knew what she had done to him. Probably, the little minx. I saw her give me that sly look when Viv was coming down the aisle.
For his part, he hadn’t been able to stop looking over at her during the ceremony, and at one point he had even imagined that it was the two of them standing before the preacher, making those vows, instead of Gene and Viv.
In Steve’s opinion, Mary June looked even prettier today than Viv—and that was saying a lot. Mary June’s floor-length light pink dress looked like it was made out of some kind of crunchy material, with puffy sleeves and a V-neck. Gene’s sister Julie was wearing one just like it only in light green, and although Julie was a pretty girl, and Viv was gorgeous in her wedding gown, Steve idly wondered if everyone in the room was thinking along the same lines—that Viv’s maid of honor was upstaging her by a mile. But, I’ll keep my mouth shut about that. Don’t want to hurt Viv’s feelings…or make old Geno mad at me.
To try and distract himself from what was bordering on becoming obsessive thoughts about the girl sitting next to him, he looked around and then across the table to where Gary was deep in conversation with Julie. And she was gazing back at him like he was one of the glitterati out Hollywood way. Woohoo, what’s this? Is Musketeer number three sniffing around young Julie? He better watch out. I don’t think old Geno would take it kindly if our megabucks brother played footsie with his little sister’s affections. I’d better warn him off…
He was trying to figure out how to do just that and had even opened his mouth to suggest that Gary join him for a walk under the false pretense of getting some air, when he heard the sound of a fork tapping against a glass and he glanced over at Viv’s father, who was rising to his feet.
“Everyone,” the man said, loud enough to get the chattering wedding guests’ attention. “It’s time for a toast to the bride and groom, and I’ll go first.” He raised his glass of raspberry punch and turned to the two at the head of the table. “Vivian…I—” he paused, and then chuckled. “I had a lot of things I planned to say, but every blasted one of them has flown right out of my head.” All of the guests laughed as Gene and Viv clasped hands and looked expectantly toward her father. “So, I’ll just say this. Your mother and I have always been so proud of you. You’ve been a wonderful daughter—we couldn’t have asked for better. And as your daddy, I confess I wouldn’t have given your hand to just any old Joe. But, this fella here that you’ve wed, he’s a good one; truly ‘first class,’ in more ways than one. And I know he’ll do right by you and make you happy…cause if he don’t, I’ll come after him with a baseball bat—and he knows I’ll do it!” he added half chuckling and half sniffling.
The bride and groom laughed and nodded in agreement.
Only a few of the people in the room knew the significance of that last bit. Steve did, as Gene had told him in detail what had happened the day Viv had run into his yet unknown brother at the little store in Jeffersonville and mistakenly believed it was him. Wow, what a set of falling dominos that was for us all; the start of totally changing the rest of our lives.
To Gene, Mr. Powell continued, “You be a good husband to my little girl, Sergeant First Class Eugene Banks. Mrs. Powell and I have given you the most precious thing in the world to us,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. He leaned over and gave his daughter a hug as everyone applauded and awed.
Wordlessly, the older man gestured to the people at the tables to indicate they could resume eating.
Steve cleared his throat and reached for his glass, embarrassed that his eyes had become misty during the older man’s speech. He trained his gaze on the couple at the head of the table, holding hands and making eyes at each other, and he was almost jealous that they were now married and obviously blissfully happy.
After a moment, he glanced over at Mary June and caught her dabbing her napkin at the corners of her eyes. Leaning closely, he whispered, “You okay?”
“Mm hm,” she mumbled in kind of a squeak. He wondered if she had just been moved by the sentiment, or if it had brought her a touch of sadness. Steve had only met Mary June’s father once, and he wasn’t sure what kind of a man he was…he made a mental note to ask her later.
For now, he reached over to cover her hand with his. “Yeah, sure you are, kiddo. And I feel the same way,” he whispered, meaning the father-of-the-bride’s toast had touched something inside him also. She sent him a grateful smile and drew in a shuddering breath.
Steve sent her a roguish grin, clinked his glass to hers, and muttered in his best Bogie imitation, “Here’s looking at you, kid.” She let out a quiet giggle and clinked his glass in return.
As he’d hoped, his silly, sweet gesture did the trick, seeming to help her rally, and she picked up her fork to resume eating.
The reception continued with casual dining and spontaneous toasts, including an emotional one from Mrs. Banks to the couple, and a funny one from Mary June to Vivian. And then, catching him off guard, someone indicated that it was his turn.
Never having been to a wedding before, Steve hadn’t realized he would be required to “make a speech”, but nonetheless, he stood and raised his punch glass to the bride and groom. The room quieted as everyone wondered if they would hear words of wisdom or wisecracks.
Dozens of things ran through his mind as Gene stared at him with a grin that was part expectation and part dread. Finally, he cleared his throat and began, “To my brother, Gene, and his lovely new wife, Vivian. I wish you both, every happiness to be found on God’s green earth. You both deserve it, cause you’re both swell—and Gene, I’m not saying that just cause you’re my brother and you look just like me,” he quipped, causing the guests to titter and the third brother across the table let out a chortle. “I hope you guys have a happy life together…and I hope the both of us,” he gestured across the table at Gary, “can find dolls as keen as your new bride that’ll take us as we are. And Viv, I hope you know what you’ve got yourself into, marrying this mug of a brother of mine. But if anyone can make him toe the mark, it’s you,” he finished as he raised his glass high in salute. Everyone laughed and applauded as he sat back down.
Once everything settled again and the conversation around the room resumed, Steve felt Mary June’s gaze on him and he turned his head.
The look in those eyes made electric sparks zing up and down his body in crazy patterns. The sensation was so powerful it made him catch his breath, and in that instant, everything became crystal clear and he just…knew.
Mary June was the one. He knew it clear down to his bones…and thinking back, he realized it had started f
rom the moment she climbed into the backseat of Gene’s car that first night and looked him over. Before he had even opened his mouth, she’d turned to him, stuck her hand out to shake his, and said, “Hello. I’m Mary June. And you’re the one that almost broke up my best friend and the man she loves because you’re his long-lost identical twin.” They had laughed at that, and it had broken the ice.
Steve thought about how she had stayed glued to his side in that fancy hotel room while they listened to Mr. Tucker share the details he’d always wished he’d known about his past, but at the same time had been afraid to find out. Having her there next to him had helped in more ways than one.
The memory of him spilling his guts about his childhood came to him. He’d told her things he had never told anyone before. Something about her made him want to share himself with her—and wanted her to do the same. He’d never felt so relaxed and at ease with a woman before.
Mary June was sensible and levelheaded, although she had a playful side, and she just seemed to understand him in ways that…well, that he hadn’t even understood himself…
He decided right then and there what he was going to do—and when. Patting an object in his jacket pocket, he smiled, thinking it pays to be prepared.
Mary June had remained achingly aware of every move her wedding-party partner and seatmate made during the hours of the reception. Indeed, she found she had a hard time keeping her focus on the couple who were supposed to be the center of attention, as her eyes seemed to have developed magnetic properties and kept coming back time after time to connect with another pair.
She had gloried in every touch of his hand on her back as they posed for photographs, and of course she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of him during the ceremony. She had felt so proud of him as he had stood up in front of dozens of people he didn’t know and delivered a “best man” speech that was both tender and comical, with just the right touches of each.
In return, she had been aware of his attention all day, as if he were “on duty” and attending to her…as if they were a couple. This both confused and thrilled her, because although they had declared their feelings for one another in the cabin, it hadn’t gone further. In other words, they hadn’t said they were going steady…when he had dropped her off at her work, he hadn’t even arranged for their next date. But then, he wasn’t always sure when he would get leave, and he didn’t know if he would be disciplined for his tardiness that morning. It was just one more thing the war had interrupted. If only Steve wasn’t stuck over in Charlestown all week, and getting phone calls through wasn’t so complicated…if he just lived in Louisville and worked at a local defense plant…things would be so much easier.
As it was, communication between the two of them was a bit like shortwave radio, fading in and out, strong one moment and faint the next!
Except for one short phone call, which hadn’t amounted to much at all, their “signal” had been decidedly weak since their marathon conversation at the cabin. Once he had arrived at the church that day for the wedding, circumstances were such that they didn’t see one another until he had slipped into the foyer to escort her down the aisle—and they’d had no time for private conversation since then. She wondered what he was thinking and feeling. Could he even be regretting that he’d told her he loved her in the heat of the moment after his apology in the cabin?
When he’d made the statement that he hoped he and Gary… “can find dolls as keen as your new bride that’ll take us as we are,” it had almost felt like a slap in the face! Was he saying she was not that kind of a girl? Was he saying to her, in essence, that although he liked kissing her and he’d been an absolutely wonderful, attentive caretaker during their night in the cabin, he was still looking for that special one, thank you very much? That thought made her feel sick to her stomach, and added to the nervous butterflies zooming around in her midsection.
Mary June had turned her head and just stared at him, wishing she could look past those sky-blue irises, see into that jokester brain of his, and view his real thoughts and emotions.
She wanted so badly to grab his hand and tug him over to a corner to talk to him; to lay it all out in the open for them both to see.
If only she were that bold.
Her musings continued until the bride and groom went through the procedure of cutting the three-layer wedding cake that one of the parishioners in the church had made. It had been Mrs. Goss, and the dear woman garnered lots of laughs admitting that she had put out the word she needed ration stamps for sugar, eggs, and other ingredients, only to wind up deluged with so many she was thinking about starting a restaurant. Mary June laughed along with everyone else. Then, she snuck a sidelong look at Steve standing at her elbow, and thought she saw him pat his pocket as if he were making sure an object were still there. A jolt of electricity went through her at the possibility of what that might be…but she cautioned herself not to set herself up for disappointment. He might be patting gas ration stamps…or tickets to a prizefight down at the Armory.
The cake was cut, and there were lots of laughs and teasing pleas for the newlyweds to smash pieces of said cake in one another’s faces. Mary June cringed at that, thinking privately that she would be livid if Ste—if her groom smashed cake and icing on her face and hair. Although she knew it was, according to a history teacher from when she was in school, an age-old wedding tradition that dated back to the ancient Romans who believed that breaking the cake over the bride’s head would bring good luck—and fertility—to the couple’s marriage, she thought it was a stupid tradition.
Therefore, she was a bit disappointed that Steve, standing beside her, added his voice to the other males hollering, “Smash, smash, smash!” She shot him a saucy look, but he merely winked in return, that grin of his remaining glued to his face as if he knew a delicious secret that no one else was privy to. She wondered if he and some of the other men, or perhaps Gary, had slipped out and decorated Gene’s car with shaving cream, tin cans, and shoes on strings, with a big tacky sign that read “Just Married!”
Thankfully, the bride and groom ignored the would-be troublemakers and lovingly fed a piece of the beautiful dessert to one another, topped off by sweet, icing-flavored kisses. Everyone awed at that, while some clapped and others pretended to pay off bets regarding the outcome.
“I’m glad to see my brother knows how to refuse bad advice,” Steve quipped softly as he moved closer and slipped an arm around her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “If he’d given in to ‘peer pressure’, I’d have been most disappointed in him.” The comment made her feel instantly relieved, and she responded by giving him a sideways smile and reaching up and gripping his fingers. Then, as an extra show of satisfaction, she stretched up and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.
It was amazing to her that being at his side now felt like the most natural place in the world—the one she had been created to occupy. Does he feel the same? Oh, I wish I could read his mind! Tell me how you feel, Steve…please… As if he heard her thoughts, he looked down and allowed his lips to curve up in a grin that dazzled her senses. Then he topped it off with a sparkling-eyed wink.
Moments later, Steve escorted her back to the table, and then excused himself to run some sort of errand. As time passed, she looked around and saw him speaking something privately into Gene’s ear, but she shrugged, not having a clue what that could be. Now, she decided to strike up a conversation with the people sitting nearby, who she had been unconsciously ignoring throughout the day.
Finally, the time arrived when the happy couple would take their leave and go off together on their short honeymoon—two days in the bridal suite of the Brown Hotel, paid for by Dad Tucker.
All of the single women and girls gathered together for Viv to toss her bouquet.
Mary June groaned inwardly, hating that she had to put herself on display and basically “announce” to the room that she was unmarried and “hopeful”…although it couldn’t hurt, right? Maybe it will shake M
r. Wheeler up a bit to think he has competition…
There was much jostling for position, laughter and good-natured ribbing. Finally, Viv turned her back and on the count of three, she tossed it high in the air—and it came down exactly into Mary June’s outstretched hands. She knew it was where Viv was aiming, and she was glad her best friend was such a good shot.
Mary June giggled and hugged the beautiful red roses close to her chest as everyone cheered and congratulated her, while directing playfully jealous jabs her way, and telling her that she was next.
Suddenly, she heard gasps throughout the assembled guests. Her eyes widened and chill bumps sprang up all over her body, wondering what was happening.
Then she slowly turned, and her mouth fell open.
There behind her, on one knee, knelt Steve. In his hand was a small open velvet box, which held a sparkling white-gold engagement ring. Vaguely, she heard a female voice from somewhere in the midst of the other ladies murmur, “Wow, I’ve never seen the bouquet magic work that fast before…”
Her eyes began to fill with tears before he even said one word. All she could do was stare down into those wonderfully familiar eyes of blue.
Swallowing as if his mouth had gone dry, those eyes locked on hers as he began, “Mary June, I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while, and I just couldn’t wait a minute longer. And yes, I got Geno’s permission to grab the spotlight from him and Viv for a minute…” he paused as the onlookers snickered, then he continued in all sincerity, “Babe…there’s a war on, and none of us really know what will happen from one day to the next. We should grab happiness while we can, you know?” Mary June answered with a hazy nod, not trusting her voice, but her eyes remained locked with his.
She held her breath as he continued, “I love you, sweet lady. You’re everything I’ve always dreamed of in a woman…in a mate. Just one look from those eyes of yours makes me feel all mushy inside, and all I want in this world is to make you happy. Mary June Harriman…will you marry me?”