I don’t know if the man who handled the wedding was a clergyman, a holy man or a justice of the peace. He carried himself with as much dignity as a man fully dressed although all he wore was a loosely belted robe. The robe was a most fortunate addition to his decorum. As Linda walked up the aisle, her transparent dress glistening in the late afternoon light, we turned back toward the alter and noticed a definite bulge growing below the gathered folds, pointing its shaft straight toward Linda.
He wasn’t to be faulted. With the golden light capturing her bright hair and the fiery patch between her legs, she looked like a Greek goddess. Her bosom heaved like ripening fruits, the rosy nipples standing straight up, her garment parted to slide down her taut waist and wrap silkily around her thighs. The audience that had been squirming in their seats suddenly bolted and raced to the pond to cool off.
“We are standing here nakedly in the presence of Nature and the Universe as a symbol of our release from bondage, that the new bonds we form are pure and free from worldly trappings. Linda Mercer, do you take this man to be your loving husband, to have and hold, to cherish in sickness and in health and to hold above all others?”
“I do.”
“Jack Jones, do you take this woman…”
“Blamed tootin’ I do. I’m taking this woman to be the best thing that ever happened in my life and I swear I will never want anybody but her. I will never see another woman or a star, a sunset or a flower as beautiful as her.”
“Then I suppose I should pronounce you man and wife.”
The celebration lasted long into the night. Guided by Jack’s advice, I had created a three tier, cherry surprise cake large enough to serve two hundred guests. It was eaten to the last crumb, as were the chicken hot wings, the stuffed potato skins, the prime rib, the nachos, the guacamole, and everything else it had occurred to me to prepare. It wasn’t just our wedding party, but colonists who slithered out of their tree shelters and tents and stopped by for a little free food and entertainment.
Every musician and wannabe musician the colony had, set up in the field with their instruments and surrounded themselves with their fans. It was late when we tumbled into our tent, completely exhausted with eating, drinking, dancing and playing. I stretched out on the sleeping bag, groaning. My skin was on fire.
Lee reached out to touch me. I winced. “You’re pretty red,” he observed.
“I feel pretty red.”
He put some lotion in his hands and rubbed it gently down my back. When he reached my thighs, his fingers slipped up inside the crack. I cried out again. “Is there any place you’re not burned?” He asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmm.” He helped me to my feet. “I have an idea.”
We ducked back through the tent flap, then turned our heads to some noise in the bushes close by. It was Zeke and Julia, or Julia was fighting. She was swinging at him while he jumped out of her way and tried to clasp her wrists. “Where is my memory foam pillow? I’ve looked everywhere for it! You forgot to pack it!”
“I didn’t forget to pack it. It was there when we left Seattle. Are you sure you didn’t leave it at the motel?”
“I’m sure I would know if I used it at the motel! What am I going to do? Where is my back support, my neck support? Where is my ninety-nine dollars? That’s what it cost me!”
She stopped, realizing she had an audience. She turned. “What are you staring at?”
I couldn’t help staring. It wasn’t just the angular bones that poked out at her hips. Between them was the largest muff I’d ever seen. I couldn’t imagine why she didn’t trim it or shave it. It was like a fuzzy brown catcher’s mitt. “I thought I heard a bear in the woods.”
“Ridiculous. All you heard were the barely people.” She snorted and dragged Zeke into her tent, their lover’s quarrel apparently over.
The evening air didn’t really cool my skin. The night was steamy with rain forest humidity. We walked to the shallow end of the pond, still shadowy, while the middle glittered with moonlight. I stepped in to my knees. Goose bumps rose and chattered up my neck. “Oh! It’s cold!”
“It’s not cold. It’s just the contrast with your body temperature. Come out further.” He took me by the hand and I walked in to my waist, sucking in my breath. I felt the mud ooze up between my toes and wriggled them. It felt good. He began cupping water up over my arms and shoulders gently, letting my body absorb the shock gradually.
“Do you know how to swim underwater?”
I nodded. “A little bit.”
“Then go under. Let your body temperature even out.”
I tried it out. This really was very nice. As my skin cooled down and I acclimated with the water, I began to swim around freely. The summer heat faded away. I even practiced all the different strokes I knew, awkwardly but with full enjoyment. Clear, mountain fed water, sparkling under the evening stars. I checked for the bottom. The pond really was rather shallow. I was a good twenty feet from the bank and my head and shoulders were still above water. With my limited skills, that was a good comfort zone. I looked around for Lee.
He was nearly halfway out to the middle of the pond, but when I called to him, he turned and started back. He really was a powerful swimmer. The water folded back in cream colored curves that flattened placidly as they spread out. I could see the long reach of his arms, the biceps glistening in the moonlight.
About a hundred yards from me, he went under. I waited nonchalantly, then a little anxiously for his head to pop up, but saw nothing. I called his name. Suddenly, I felt a set of fingers looping around my ankles, then traveling up, as a head popped out of the water. “Did you miss me?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “You scared me!”
“Hmm. It takes more than a shallow pond to drown Lee Andrews.”
He ducked me back down under the water with my arms still wrapped around him. He twisted around so I was nearly lying flat, then broke loose so we could come up for air. He bent over me again, his hand going between my legs, opening them. I fluttered my ankles weightlessly. I felt like the floating girl in the hands of a magician. His other hand cradled under my head, while the roving one continued sliding between my thighs, passing over the eagerly twitching snatch, up my belly and curving over one breast while he stepped between my legs.
My heart raced as he entered my already wet pussy—my whole body welcoming him inside, desiring to feel the same passion I had become addicted to.
“Yes! Lee…Doctor…” I smiled. “Please…make love to me. Do anything…anything…I want you so bad.”
“I want you…and I have you,” he said, entering deeper and thrusting with ripped power. I felt like I was suspended between land and air. I felt like a mermaid. I grasped him tightly and buried my fingers in his hair. This time when he pummeled my pussy he did it with reckless abandon. Like he was all powerful and just unloading the worst of man’s primitive instincts. God, I loved seeing and feeling him so raw. He fucked me so hard he couldn’t even keep his balance.
We took me down and we rolled in the water and I hardly gave a damn. All I could feel was his cock penetrating me deeper, fuller and faster!
“Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me, Lee!” I screamed as we twisted and turned, the impact lost in watery droplets that sprayed up around us. We were so dirty, so alive, and every fiber of my being felt alive and buzzed with joy.
“I fucking love you,” I said, meeting his eyes and dropping my mouth open for another orgasmic pang. “Fucking love you!” I said, kissing his face, desiring more intimacy even though he was balls deep inside of my throbbing cunt.
In the soft mud, at the edge of the water, he pounded his way home, and I cried out, holding him as tightly and furiously as I could.
“Come on, cum in my pussy. Cum in me.”
“Yeah? Fill you with sperm? Is that what you want?” he asked in heat and huffing breaths, still pumping away like he owned my body—which he did.
Is that supposed to scare me? I
thought to myself as I stared him down and throttled him twice as hard, eager to get his babymaking spunk inside of me. Nothing turned me on more than the idea of such a beautiful mistake.
As if reading my mind and knowing just how hard I had fallen – and how hard he was for me obviously! – he spoke up, in between deep breaths of passion.
“Would you consider,” he said, his clenching his teeth as though angry. “Taking a very stupid man who has to be led by the nose to have any fun for your companion?”
“My companion?”
“Would you consider a very stupid man who is loyal, who will never leave you and will be supportive of you every day of your life?”
He drove his cock in again and it erupted in a throbbing orgasm of seed, my juices and pond water.
“Oh my Gawwwd!” I screamed in an orgasm so intense it hurt all over! Was he saying what I thought he saying? My whole body froze and pulsated with orgasmic glee, even while my nerves shook in anticipation.
“Are you asking me to marry you?” I asked in a flush, as my face trembled and orgasmic pangs shot through my body, making me squirt all over his still squirting cock.
“Y-Yes,” he said, just as he unleashed that last huge drop of cum deep inside of me. He pulled the hair away from my face and looked into my eyes. “Is that what you want? Because that’s what I want.”
I inhaled in deep and long, trying to get my breath back. He did the same – the both of us were exhausted and still shaking from our mutual climax. But our eyes were glued together, so personal, so glued to each other’s every blink, every shudder…every expression! We felt each other’s joy, each other’s pain, and yes, we could still feel each other’s cum dripping down deep inside.
Finally, I spoke up. A bit of a weak voice, still tired from a good screaming spell.
“There is this man I know who likes apple strudel, funny little sea animals and flirting around with my nutty cousin. I’m waiting for him to tell me he loves me.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “If you will marry me, I’ll give you mud baths and swimming lessons. I’ll run around naked in the Senior Center. I’ll take peyote and chant with a shaman. I’ll do anything you want.”
That was a proposal that was difficult to turn down.
I was just on the verge of giving my answer, when Julia and her amazingly large beaver, appeared, with Zeke by her side. “I have come to the most amazing realization,” she said, ignoring the fact that Lee and I had just engaged in some strenuous activity and were still breathing a little loudly. “I was looking at the statistics on my laptop and noticed senior health has improved substantially over the last six months. I believe it has to do with their happiness. The happier they are, the better they eat and the more willing they are to exercise. Zeke and I are going to design a happiness program for the seniors.”
“Fancy that,” murmured Lee. “Seniors live longer when they’re happier.”
“Yes, my studies will make a very exciting thesis for the next seminar.”
She left as promptly as she arrived, waving “ta da!” as she walked away, holding Zeke’s arm as firmly as though she had won the real prize.
We waded back out into the water to wash away the mud. “Okay, where were we?” Asked Lee, combing back my hair with his fingers.
“I think you were on the verge of making a life time commitment.”
“Oh, yes. What do you say, Miss Lange?”
“I’ll take it before my planning committee.”
“I thought you were the girl without a plan.”
“But marrying you would change that, wouldn’t it?”
“No. Because wherever you decide to go, I’ll go too.”
“No boundaries?”
“No boundaries.”
“We are, after all, a cook and a doctor. We can get jobs anywhere.”
“Should we talk to the naked guru?”
“No. I’m an old-fashioned girl. I want to get married in a chapel.”
The next morning, when we were packing to leave, Ralph said his first words since suffering a stroke. He glared at Julia, who thankfully was now clothed, covering that unforgettable giant beaver, and said, “Murderer. You murdered Henry Lange.”
“Ralph, whatever are you talking about?” Shushed Melanie, angry that his first words had brought up the ancient scandal.
“Morphine!” He mumbled, the words dripping out the side of his mouth like oatmeal. “She gave him morphine.”
“Of course he was on morphine,” said Julia sharply. “He had a brain tumor.”
“Did you give him morphine the night he disappeared?” Asked Melanie.
“He was probably on morphine! What do you expect? He was a druggie. He took morphine to help him sleep and cocaine to keep him awake.”
“Then you did know about the cocaine?” Jumped in Lee.
“Give me a break. Everybody knew about the cocaine. I didn’t murder him. If anything, he murdered himself.”
“Or everybody murdered him,” said Liz. She gave her own timeline of the events. “When he left Dr. Hastings, he was high on cocaine and morphine. He staggered over to the nightclub, where he trashed the place, stole the girl and forced her to take him to her apartment. The girl gave him a roofie. Instead of putting him out, it just made him crazier. He went out into the streets where he was beaten up by his ex-wives. They left him for dead, but he made his way to the airplane terminal where he passed out on a luggage cart.”
“The one who pushed the luggage cart into the runway was the murderer,” said Melanie.
“Who said someone pushed the luggage cart? Nobody said it was pushed. Only someone who had been there would know it had been pushed.”
They had really been watching too many British murder mysteries. “Tell me,” I asked impatiently. “Who in the world would know he was passed out on a luggage cart?”
“The ex-wives might have followed him,” said Melanie.
“Or the drug dealers,” said Liz. “Or even Dr. Andrews.”
“Has it occurred to any one of you that maybe my father died exactly as he wanted? I’ll admit, I don’t know much about him, but I am a Lange, and as far as I know, all a Lange ever wanted was to make people happy.”
They thought about that as we finished packing. “Then he murdered himself,” Liz murmured as we stuffed in the last bag.
“In the most glorious manner he knew how,” I agreed.
Linda beat me to the draw. She was the first one among us to get married, but the future was shining, just as bright and golden as the road in front of us, a melody played in my heart and I knew that we would find, without a plan or a location in mind, the perfect place for exchanging our vows.
Epilogue
We won the battle. Technically, we won the war since the enemy came over to our side. Linda moved in with Jack once they were married, and Jack built in a beauty salon for her that was twice as fancy as the one we had set up in the den. It had all that special equipment for facial massages, steam wraps, body waxing, skin treatments and heaven knows what else and there was talk about them building a sauna and hiring a masseur.
Zeke and Julia moved into her bedroom and wanted to take over the den for specialized physical therapy exercises. Briana also wanted the den for her own specialized therapy exercises. They finally compromised, due primarily to Zeke’s amazing fortitude. They closed in the back porch but left the entire upper half paned with windows. With a panoramic view of the garden, they had this sort of Zen Buddhist room, complete with India prints for drapes, rugs, blankets, and cushions on the floor and a cute little tea table that served more smokable remedies than liquid ones.
The den held hospital bed that cranked a dozen different ways, some low impact exercise equipment, some mats, different sized rubber balls and the best stereo equipment for rocking down as you roll. Briana and Julia hustled their clients between the two rooms as they saw fit.
It seems the ending should be that Lee and I got married, moved into his house and t
he whole neighborhood lived happily ever after. It didn’t turn out quite that way. Lee felt somewhat strange about having his ex-lover right next door, and I wasn’t ready to surrender command of my house; not just yet. Not until it was paid for.
We waited, but Briana didn’t. She married her airplane pilot at twelve thousand feet and afterward went to live with him on a Puget Sound island. He bought a small plane with water skis and used it for his transportation to work and back while Briana took up scuba diving.
The house liberated me for a second time with the last mortgage payment. It was mine. I could invest in it. I could rent it or sell it. I could make it anything I wanted, but I was the girl without a plan. I had no idea what I wanted to do next.
The house had changed. Although I still ran my kitchen, I had hired a couple of young, enterprising cooks to help me out. They were Millennials of the first order, always eager to try something new and different, looking at the future like it was their own exclusive ornament. It’s amazing how hard people will work when they’re following a dream.
Julia was still slightly out of tune as to what made people happy, but Zeke was a one-man band, actually a two-man band as Burke continued to stay on as a mechanic. Between them, they were able to draw in enough sexy young women to fill in the therapeutic spots my friends and I had left behind.
The neighborhood had changed. When you have elderly, eventually you begin losing them. It can’t be helped. Ralph had another stroke that left him permanently in hospice care, so Melanie moved into a Senior Citizen’s apartment to be close to him, renting out the house to a young gay couple. Liz began developing Alzheimer’s disease. Her daughter sold the house to a family with two kids. Several of the eighty-year-old’s died that year, and their houses were put on the market. The Millennials were moving in.
There was no reason not to marry Lee and move into his house, but that was just it. It was his house. It was a man-house, a doctor house. I wanted an “our” house. I brooded about this a lot and then one day I told him, “I have an idea. Sell your house.”
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