Excuse Me for Living
Page 24
On this late July, early Sunday morning, Daniel gazes up at a bright sky dotted with just a few wisps of cirrus clouds. He peers down to overlook the sparse West End Avenue traffic and then into the decidedly uninviting muddy Hudson River. “Coming here again wouldn’t be the same without you, Ben.” Dan smiles at the man in blue and shakes his hand.
The entire temple men’s group, including Barry back from Greece with Charlotte, surround Daniel Topler on the George Washington Bridge. Jacob doesn’t look well so soon after his operation, but nothing could stop him from coming to walk his daughter down the dividing barrier on the upper-level of the highway to her marriage vows.
“New beginnings for you, Danny,” says David, as all but Dan raise plastic goblets of Champagne in a toast.
“I don’t know, guys. Maybe this isn’t romantic enough for my angel.”
“Hey! It was Laura’s cuckoo idea to marry here, for God’s sake,” Morty says.
“You’re starting over, Daniel. It’s appropriate. Not everyone gets this chance,” Dr. Bernstein tells his former patient.
“We could have had a more traditional wedding for my beautiful bride.”
“Oh, so the fast-and-loose big city playboy has gone sentimental on us!” laughs Rob.
“Think of this as your own Bifröst, Dan,” Barry says. “The rainbow bridge in Norse mythology leading from the realm of mortals to the realm of the gods.”
“Daniel, quit the lollygagging. Even a hundred-thou contribution to the mayor’s campaign fund won’t shut down traffic for more than thirty minutes,” Al Topler yells to his son.
The groom’s mother stands patiently next to her husband in the bridge’s eastbound traffic lane. There’s no time to set up chairs. Notwithstanding slamming Ronnie, her soon-to-be son-in-law, onto a marble foyer floor, the still Mrs. Albert Topler remains a lady of dignity. Despite the unconventional surroundings, she bravely holds her head high, talking with her best friend, Dolores Schwartz. Harriet’s sense of noblesse oblige has forced her to agree to Elaine Bushkin’s invitation to the wedding. Anyway, the tart seems safely engaged to another guest – one Morton Mavis. Satan will personally serve my chicken soup with kreplach to sinners in hell before I attend that ceremony, she swears to herself. Turning her thoughts to the blessed event at hand, “Why,” she asks Dolores, “do these two Jewish children have to be married by a justice of the peace?”
Dolores nods sympathetically, “Only God knows,” she says, agreeing with the sentiment.
“I left a hand-written message at the LFOD reception desk for Helen Clausen, their receptionist who’s standing behind you next to Daniel, to please find one for me.”
“I’m glad they saved you the trouble, Harriet. You have so many other things on your mind. They owe your family a few favors after all, don’t they? With the fees you’ve paid, you and Albert could have started your own clinic.”
The wedding couple holds hands. Dan gives his sister and bridesmaid, Coco, a kiss. “Thanks for untying me from the family crypt,” he jests. “You’re next in line for the gallows, Ronnie,” he says with a laugh to the best man. Charlotte, maid of honor, flanks her best friend.
“Make this quick, your honor,” Albert whispers to the full-bearded justice of the peace dressed in a splendid court’s robe. “We’ve only got ten minutes before they open to traffic again.”
“Do you, Daniel Topler, before this group of your friends and relatives swear to take this beautiful, sexy woman to have and to hold in sickness and in health?”
Danny looks into Laura’s eyes. “I do,” says he, feeling uncomfortable for some reason. Sexy?
“And do you, Laura Bernstein, before this august assemblage swear to obey this unemployed man and to have and to hold him in sickness and in health?”
Laura’s peeved. Dan obviously forgot. She explicitly told him to exclude the obsolescent “obey” from the ceremony. And to remind the justice, in case he’s brain-dead, it’s “husband and wife” nowadays. But after two beats she decides what the hell and says, “I do.” Did he say unemployed?
“Then under the laws of the State of New York and by the powers of great Jehovah above, I declare you man and wife.”
Man and wife, did that bastard say? thinks Laura.
It’s only now, when the justice of the peace pushes Dan aside, pulls off his beard, grabs Laura, and gives her a wet kiss on the chops, that Dan looks down and sees the man’s feet underneath the robe. Bunnies smile up at him.
And now Lars feels a terror in his heart he’s never known before. But it’s not Zoë who’s scaring the bejesus out of him. At a rapid clip, eyes narrowed, and with brows tightly knitted, Helen Clausen is headed his way.