“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Then I realized I wasn’t dragging you anywhere. Talk about comfort zone. You were pulling me back into life. I wanted to return the favor.”
“You like your ta-da, I like my comfort zone.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. If this is a deal breaker for you, then I have to stop doing it.”
“Cold turkey?”
“I don’t guarantee not to backslide, but I’ll try. Call me on it when I start. I love you too much to risk losing you over my stupidity.”
She took his hands but held him away from her so that she could look into his eyes, his beautiful eyes. At the moment they were anxious eyes.
“Stephen, most of the time I agree with what you propose, but ask me, don’t tell me. Okay?” She tried to laugh, but it came out a sob. “And no surprises.”
“If I stop prodding, then will you marry me? You say when, today or ten years from now. See, I’m asking, not telling.”
She began to laugh. “Oh, Stephen, I do love you. I might as well marry you. With luck we’ll have a long lifetime to work out our personal problems.”
“How about today, before you lose your nerve?” He grinned. “Not Vegas. Hey, just kidding.”
* * *
“STEPHEN, I’M SCARED.”
“ME, TOO. Married we can be scared together. We can just make the license bureau in Holly Springs before they close for lunch.”
“What about your priest friend?”
“I’ll call Walt on the way. They must have at least one jeweler in Holly Springs, and surely at least one wedding band that will fit your finger.” He glanced down at her left hand. “Unfortunately, you’re still wearing your first wedding band.”
“I’m not certain I can get it off, but jewelers have snipper things.”
“Will you mind cutting it off if we have to?”
“I intend to wear it on a chain around my neck. Would that bother you?
“If you wear bananas on your head, I’ll think they’re a good look for you.”
“You took your ring off,” Barbara said. “Did you do it to get back in the dating game?”
“I did it because Elaine worried me into it. It’s in my cuff-link box.”
“Making your decisions for you? She must come by it naturally.”
“She does think she knows best. Yes, maybe she did learn it from me. I should have remembered how much I resent it. Sorry, my love.”
“Do you want another wedding ring?”
“If the jeweler has one big enough for me, then, yes, I do. I’m a great believer in symbols. I’ll give you diamonds later.”
“Oh, no, you won’t! Diamonds do not mix well with horse liniment.” She blew out a long breath. “Okay, Stephen. Let’s go get married. Mary Frances and Heather can feed the animals. There’s no surgery scheduled for today and no barn calls, but there can always be emergencies. I’m dropping Vince in at the deep end. I’ll leave my phone charging in your truck. I never intended for Vince to start his first day without me. I can talk him through any unusual procedures over the phone.”
“Bring your passport,” Stephen called as she went to pack for her wedding.
She heard Stephen pour more coffee. She should have been hungry, but at the moment even the thought of coffee made her nauseous.
Barbara pulled out a winter white dress that her mother would have called a lady dress. Nope. White was for first weddings. Besides, it made her look washed out. She ended up choosing a red silk dress and a pair of red pumps that were not quite high enough to be dangerous. Maybe they could pick up some white roses in Holly Springs.
Now that she’d bought in to this craziness, she felt excited to be entering a life with Stephen. No doubt he’d still try to make her decisions sometimes. No doubt she wouldn’t let him.
She’d been worrying herself sick trying to keep her world the same, immovable, unchanging. But most things changed on their own when you weren’t looking. Now her life would never be the same again. It would be better.
They’d tell the children together.
Together was the operative word.
Eloping would do an end run around both their families and present them with a done deal. She was finally doing what she wanted, and what she wanted was Stephen. Not another minute of their life together would be wasted.
Men and women who loved one another made accommodations, confronted their problems together.
She’d so desperately tried to keep the single life she’d worked out for herself unchanged. Then Stephen had driven into her parking lot with Orville, and as good as blown the doors off her life.
When John had died and left her so suddenly, the animals had been her refuge. She had used them and their problems to avoid dealing with her own needs and emotions. But change happened even when your back was turned. What never changed decayed. Together, they would grow again.
First, they stopped at The Hovel so that Stephen could change into a suit, shave and pick up his passport for identification at the license bureau.
“Do you want a wedding gown?” he asked. “We can drive to Memphis and—”
“I just want you, Stephen.”
* * *
STEPHEN CALLED THE small church in Holly Springs where his friend Walt was the priest.
When Barbara came out with her dress in a garment bag and carrying a small bag of shoes and accessories, she asked, “Did you get your friend? Will he do it?”
“His wife said he was out on a parish call. She’ll give him my message to say we’re on our way.”
“What if he won’t do it?”
“Then we’ll find someone who will. Come on, go check in with Dr. Peterson and tell Mary Frances where we’re going.”
Thirty minutes later, they were on the road to Holly Springs. After the excitement, they fell silent. Barbara kept her hand on Stephen’s thigh, as though she needed the physical connection to give her an infusion of trust in this mad enterprise.
The ice had dissipated as quickly as it had accumulated. The roads were now clear with little evidence of broken trees. The tree that had blocked the road in front of the clinic seemed to be the largest victim. Twenty miles south, there was no evidence of the storm at all.
Stephen took back roads. With little traffic, he indulged his love of speed.
Barbara hoped they would not be stopped by the police, because Stephen looked as giddy as she felt. She had visions of having to take a Breathalyzer at ten in the morning. If they explained to the cop that they were eloping because their children didn’t approve of their relationship, he would probably arrest them and toss them in the local jail as certified lunatics.
As Stephen’s lawyer, Stephen’s son-in-law, Roger, would have to come bail them out.
“Your friend Walt hasn’t called back,” Barbara said as they bowled through another mini-town.
“We’ll go straight to the rectory. We won’t make the license bureau by noon. By the way, I haven’t asked what denomination you are or if you have one at all.”
“I’m an Episcopalian. Not that I’ve done much about it since John died. For a long time I was furious at him for dying. Then I was too busy trying to grow a tiny practice that was barely breaking even. Will that matter to your friend?”
“Walt? I doubt it. He owes me. I got him through statistics and calculus at school. He does not have a mind for mathematics.”
“Do you? I had no idea.”
“There’s a great deal we have to discover about one another. Once we’re married, we’ll have time.”
“Am I going to discover that you are an axe murderer or a government hitman?”
“No, my dear. As one of my favorite cartoon characters says, ‘I yam what I yam.’ Are you?”
“No woman is. We just passed Red Banks. Only fifte
en minutes to Holly Springs.”
Ten minutes later, she spotted the small church nestled in a dell on the edge of town.
Stephen helped Barbara out of his truck and they walked hand-in-hand up the brick path to the cottage that served as rectory.
Stephen rang a doorbell that chimed loudly somewhere back in the house. A moment later the front door was flung open so hard it bounced off the wall inside. “Hound dog!” The extraordinarily tall, thin, completely bald man threw his arms around Stephen and lifted him off his feet. “Martha told me you’d called. I tried to call back, but I got one of those out-of-range messages.” He turned a smiling face on Barbara. “They’re machines, so I can hate them without feeling sinful. Don’t know how I’ll handle artificial intelligence.”
“Walt, this is Dr. Barbara Carew from Williamston.”
“Come on in. We’ve got a fire in the den. Martha just stepped out to the grocery. She runs errands when she thinks she should stay out of the way.” Walt took them into the den at the rear of the house and pointed to the sky blue sofa by the fireplace. “What’s the matter? I haven’t seen much of you since...”
“Nina’s funeral, I know. Barbara and I are going down to the courthouse to buy a marriage license.”
“This afternoon?”
“We figured to talk to you first, then get the license after lunch, then come back here and have you marry us.”
Walt took a deep breath, peered from one to the other, and frowned at Stephen. “Not this afternoon.”
“What? Too busy for an old friend?”
“Not that. Mississippi has a three-day waiting period. You can’t pick up your license for three business days.”
“I checked. They don’t have a waiting period.”
“Yes, they do. They changed the law not too long ago. The website probably hasn’t been changed yet. They did get rid of the blood test, though. That’s a good thing. What’s the rush? Can’t see an irate father after you with a shotgun. Barbara, this is an indelicate question, but I’m a priest. I get to ask this stuff. You wouldn’t be expecting, would you?”
“Good grief, no!”
“A number of my parishioners discover they are carrying unexpected babies. Most are delighted. A few, however...” He waggled his hand back and forth.
“Barbara has two children, Walt. You’ve met mine.”
Walt leaned back in his wing chair and crossed his legs. “So, what’s the rush?”
Stephen took Barbara’s hand and gave her a slight smile. “The thing is, Walt, when we announced at Thanksgiving that we were serious about one another...”
“It hit the fan? I’ll bet. How long have you known each other?”
“Mid-September. I took up residence in a rental house two miles from Barbara’s clinic and ran into an eagle.”
Walt reared back in his chair. They heard the back door open and close. He called, “Martha, honey, Stephen MacDonald and his fiancée are here. Stephen’s got a tale you should hear.”
After introductions and greetings, over coffee and with a plate of homemade shortbread on the coffee table between them, Walt said, “Okay. Tell all.”
Between the pair of them, they managed. After they finished the story, Walt blew out a breath. “Whew.”
“Come on, Walt, don’t go all old-fashioned on us. I recall you and Martha fell in love and got married in less time than that.”
“Yeah, I had just gotten out of divinity school. I was afraid if I didn’t snap her up, I would miss out on the perfect priest’s wife.” He reached across and took his wife’s hand.
“I wasn’t,” Martha said. “But I am now. We probably should have waited, but at that age you want to charge into life, don’t you?”
“May I use your bathroom?” Barbara asked. Martha took her. “I’ll take my time, give them some privacy.”
“Me, too. I’ll go hide out in the kitchen. That’s what I usually do when Walt has a parishioner that needs advice.” She patted Barbara’s arm. “Join me there.”
* * *
BACK IN THE DEN, both men acknowledged that they’d been left alone on purpose.
“Even if you could come up with a Mississippi license today, which you can’t, I couldn’t marry you,” Walt said.
“Don’t tell me you have to publish banns or something medieval like that.”
Walt shook his head. “A lot of people want them read, but I can choose to abrogate the necessity. No. It’s not that. We have to have three counseling sessions—one with you and me, one with Barbara and me, and one with both of you together.”
Stephen began to pace. “That’s for kids, surely, not a widower and a widow. It’s not our first time around. Just say we were counseled. Better yet, consider this as our counseling sessions. We’re both here, after all. You’re talking to me. I can go into the kitchen, then you can talk to her.”
“Stephen, I might have been able to cheat my way through calculus, but you tutored me until I passed with a B. You do not skirt the law. Neither do I with my parishioners. Again, why the rush?”
Stephen leaned against the mantelpiece over the fireplace and stared down into the fire. “I don’t want to give her time to get cold feet and back out.”
“Stephen, I don’t do kidnapped brides who want to back out. That’s not your whole reason, surely?”
“Our children are trying to split us up. They’ll keep trying until we’re married. I don’t want Barbara to have to spend her Christmas being sniped at by both sides. I can handle it. She shouldn’t have to.”
“Do they know you’re trying to elope?”
“We are eloping, Walt. We’re not trying.”
“You are if you expect to do it this afternoon in my church. Sit down, Stephen, you’re making me nervous.”
“You’re nervous? I’m a wreck. The one thing I’m sure of is that Barbara and I love one another and intend to become husband and wife. I don’t care if we’re married by a shaman covered in ostrich plumes, so long as he has a valid license to marry and so do we. We’re anxious to start living the rest of our lives, old friend. Not another wasted minute.”
Walt peeled his six-foot-six-inch frame out of his chair. “Go in the kitchen. Drink more coffee, eat more cookies. Hug your fiancée. Heck, kiss your fiancée. I have to think.”
“I put Barbara in the study,” Martha said as Stephen entered the kitchen. She poured him a fresh cup of coffee. “Sugar and milk are on the counter along with another plate of cookies. Can I fix you a sandwich?”
“I may never eat again,” Stephen said. “Getting married is not supposed to produce ulcers. Why did Barbara go into the study?”
“She’s talking to her office on her cell phone. Sit, Stephen. It will all work out. I can count on the fingers of one hand the weddings Walt has done that have gone off without a hitch. Weddings and the people in them are always crazy. Walt never loses his cool.”
“Did he ever lose one or both of the intended bride and groom?”
Martha burst out laughing. “Not recently, but yes. Are you worried Barbara will run away?”
“Isn’t every man somewhere deep inside where he can’t admit it even to himself?”
“We’ve had brides left waiting at the altar and grooms driving away alone in the wedding limousine complete with tin cans bouncing off the rear end.” She bit into a cookie. “We’ve also had them call it off the day before the wedding. Walt says better to have to return the wedding presents than wind up in divorce court in six months.”
“I honestly believe Barbara is as committed to me as I am to her.” He hoped he was telling the truth. Barbara might be in Walt’s office calling a cab to pick her up and take her back home for all he knew. She seemed certain, but was he doing that prodding thing again? He felt a chill up his backbone.
“She’s a lovely girl, Stephen. After what you went through wit
h Nina’s death and then your accident, you deserve some happiness.”
“So does she, but we don’t always get what we deserve.”
She looked up and smiled at Barbara as she walked into the kitchen. “More coffee?”
“I’m already on a caffeine high.”
Stephen raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
Barbara shrugged, pulled out another stool from the breakfast bar and slid onto it. “There’s good news and bad news.”
“Uh-oh,” Martha whispered.
“The good news is that so far Mary Frances and Vince have successfully dealt with all the appointments and are not facing any off-site emergencies. They have proved they don’t need me. They didn’t even need to call Dr. Kirksey. Vince is so proud of himself he’s like a dog with two tails and wagging both.”
“So, what’s the bad news?” Stephen asked tentatively.
“Elaine called the office looking for you when she couldn’t get your cell phone. I didn’t actually tell Mary Frances that where we were going was a secret...”
“She told Elaine.” Stephen dropped his head into his hands.
“Yep. I get the feeling she might be coming after us.” She covered Stephen’s hand with hers.
“Alone?”
“Good grief, you don’t think she’ll round up a posse, do you?”
“I think it is a distinct possibility.”
“I am not running from my crazy children.”
“It looks as though we’ll be coming home unmarried to face their united front,” Stephen said.
“Then we will. If we intend to do this, Stephen, then they can join us for the ceremony. We’re not running. I may take a while to make a decision, but once I know it’s the right thing to do, I stick.”
Walt leaned his lanky body against the door frame and stuck his hands in his pockets. “There is no waiting period in Tennessee. You do, however, have to procure a license in your own county. That means you’ll have to drive back to Williamston, arrive before they close at four thirty—I checked that, as well—and then get yourself a public official to marry you in a civil ceremony.”
Tennessee Vet Page 21