“Here we are, Bee, and here are my vows to you.” He waved the second piece of paper. “When you sashayed into my high school, over thirty years ago, the whole world turned technicolor. From the monochrome of my life, I could see blues and reds, even some fluorescent pinks.”
“Flamingos,” Reese muttered.
Carl pressed on. “I suddenly heard all the wonder of the world, in everyday, seemingly dull, minutes. You gave me birdsong and the roar of the ocean. And when you left, you took all your songs and your colors and your wonder. Yet by some miracle, here we are, together once again.”
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed, but he kept going.
“Bernice, you have always been my love, you are the mother of my children, the most beautiful wife of my youth. I don’t know how to say all the flowery stuff. But this is what I do know: I know I love you. I know you are beautiful, on the inside and out. I know you are the better half of us. I know I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with you. I know you sometimes drive me crazy; I know I drive you crazy too. I know even when the world seems fuzzy, our love is enough. So I re-offer you my love and my commitment, for whatever time I have left on this earth. You are my first love, and you will be my last. I promise to be faithful to you alone. I promise to listen to you. I promise to be the very best husband I can be and to stick around for as long as I can.”
This was more than I could ever have wished for. I tucked a graying piece of Carl’s growing hair behind his ear and unfolded my written promises. “Carl, you were not the man of my dreams when I met you, but you have since become more than the man of my dreams.”
Lord, I could have written a book of vows. Mostly because I’m an excellent writer but also because I love this man so gosh-darn much. Since my time was so limited between making our clandestine plan and executing it, my vows were much, much shorter than they could have been.
“We have been through hell and back, and you are the only cowboy on this entire dazzling earth with whom I want to ride this rodeo.”
The first time around, Carl and I got married at a courthouse, at high noon in the middle of August. The day was sweltering, but the courthouse was cool inside. We stood before the judge and tried not to watch the blob of mustard moving on his upper lip as he addressed us. I registered the slickness of sweat on Carl’s hands as, drunk on love, we said “I do” and flew straight out to the daylight to celebrate with champagne and strawberries by the river.
We had a massive wedding planned for the following spring, with twelve bridesmaids and half a dozen groomsmen, with bows and bells and whistles, but we couldn’t wait another day to commence our life together, so we married on a whim, in a fever.
We planned to tell our parents that night but stayed in the abandoned field with our love and strawberries until long after the sun went down and the stars came out. The stately yellowed grass was itchy and the field beyond was full of white flowers. Carl picked me a bouquet. The insects buzzed insistently about us, the faint smell of something ripe clung nearby. We held each other closer still, until I thought my heart would need to be sewn into my chest.
I never knew a love like this, and I drank it in like summer wine, like the river’s flood, like it was my dying breath. I’d already told him all my secrets but as he held me and kissed me, rocked me under the moonless night, I told him deeper things still. I told him I was afraid of the dark, of death, of being insignificant. Deep in his arms where he couldn’t see my gaze I confessed that I didn’t understand God, had some questions about hell, and didn’t like Frank Sinatra’s voice.
He kissed me and listened. He listened and kissed me.
The dew settled over us and I smiled, knowing we’d found our happily ever after and no one else had a love like ours. We never did tell our parents; we went right on being married and running around like chickens with our heads cut off, planning our big wedding with smiles because we had a secret no one even suspected. We’d found each other and there was nothing more we wanted.
“You know all the parts of me and you love all my ways. Thank you. Through the years you have learned so much from me, and you’ve taught me a couple of things too. You drive me crazy. You make me laugh. You gave me two beautiful children that look like me, thank the Lord. You are my sunshine and my rain, my river and my flood. You are the dance to my song, the jelly to my peanut butter, the flowers to my spring. You are the dull to my wild, the spellcheck to my novel, the toast to my breakfast. I am the spice to your soup, the jalapeño to your burrito, the amusing adjectives to your sentence.
“Carl, there was a time when I thought I would never see you again and I was glad. I was glad, Carl, because I’d let my heart grow bitter. But now I’m joyous you came back to me, and we can get this next party started. I am your sunshine. I am your rainbow. I am your princess. I am your darling. I am yours forever plus forever plus forever times infinity.
“Carl Clifford Hamilton, you complete me in one thousand and one ways and together we make the world a better place. I’ll write you a book of vows on our next anniversary, when I have more time, but I hope you get the idea for now?”
He nodded, his eyes glistening. “I love you too, Bee.”
All I could see was Carl. The Grand Canyon itself paled beside this man. I moved close to my groom and stood with him, forehead to forehead, breathing in our mixed scents of Chanel and spearmint, of clean and optimism. I could hold him like this forever. I never believed in second chances until now, but these days I clung to them like a drowning woman. This was the story of forgiveness, a story of hope. This was a story that would never grow old.
Our kids came to hug us after the vows.
“Can we sit here for a few minutes? I want to remember this.” Carl was already heading to a nearby rock. Reese wandered off, but Benjamin and Blake stood near enough for me to overhear. Carl wasn’t listening—he was oblivious—but I was all ears.
“So, that was special.” Benjamin threw an arm around Blake’s shoulder. “Dude, are you crying?”
“Standing here in dawn’s primal greeting…It was special and now my handkerchief is a sopping mess.”
“It isn’t the only sopping mess I see.”
“So much love.” Blake sighed, and I wriggled out of Carl’s arm to lean closer.
“Indeed, Romeo. Even the ice maiden looks as if she’s melted.”
Blake paused, as if considering something. “I had a crush on Reese when I surprised her you know, and said crush is snowballing into something more, something fierce. Danger personified.”
“Stranger danger.”
Carl exhaled contentedly and pointed to a bird. I rubbed his knee. “Shh.”
“It makes me miss Maya. I wish you could meet her, dude.” I peeked to see Blake staring at Reese in the distance. “You are batty over my sister, aren’t you?”
Blake eyed him warily.
“She’s crazy too, you know.”
“Every morning when I see Reese, my mind is electrocuted.” Blake’s voice was clear, decided.
“I can see where the dramatic tendencies would draw the two of you toward each other.”
“I see her, and I realize she’s more beautiful than she was the day before.”
“Okay, Pablo Neruda, this isn’t the kind of stuff you should tell other people.”
“What can I do?” Blake shrugged.
“All I know is you’d better say something soon. You don’t want to miss your chance.”
They drifted away, leaving me to figure out what I should do. When we could finally move again, we left the kids at the Grand Canyon to explore, while Carl and I went back to the hotel alone. Wink, wink.
It was early in the day, but I closed the curtains. “It’s hygge,” I explained and lit the sea of candles.
“Who?”
“It’s all about the ambience.” I grabbed the front of Carl’s navy robe and drew him to me.
Later, we ordered room service and champagne and decided to jump online to book a real h
oneymoon. We lounged on mounds of pillows with our legs intertwined, his hair tickling the length of my legs.
“Honey, I’m sorry we never got a honeymoon the first time around, but I’ll make it happen this time for you, my darling bride.”
“Oh Carl.” I smoothed his grayed temples.
“In all those years, I never wooed you, Bernice. That is about to change.”
I kissed the bridge of his nose.
“Should we do Spain? Dominican? Name the place, darling, and I will take you there.”
“I like the way you’re talking, sugar.” I ran my fingers up his arm, and he kissed the top of my cheek. “What about the Greek islands, in August?”
“But baby, you live with a Greek god every day of your life.” He pinched my derriere.
“Oh, Carl.”
“I should probably actually work for more than two days in a row, so let’s make it September, but you can consider it done.”
“I’ll sell my condo in Toronto, and we can go crazy with the money.” I propped another pillow under my head.
“Baby, we can go for the entire month and spare no expense. We will make up for lost time; heck, we can take a month away a year for the rest of our lives. Spain. The Caribbean. The moon, for all I care. Let’s remake the dream list from our first go at this marriage thing. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is too much for my bride.” He kissed me again.
“We can take the kids sometimes too. Maybe every other year they can come for a week.”
“I have to tell you something.” His face turned serious, gray, and my stomach clenched. “About the kids. About before.”
“Oh, tell me tomorrow baby.” I could tell it was going to be bad.
“I have to tell you now, as we’re restarting, I have to—” He pounded a fist on the bed.
“No.” I knew a sudden resolve. “Don’t tell me at all. Let’s each start with a clean slate.”
“Bee.” He looked sad. “You might leave me again once I tell you.” He started to cry, hot wet tears that fell from his cheeks onto my hands. Without meaning to, I started crying too.
I thought back to the pregnancy I’d kept secret. About all the babies he wanted and the ones I didn’t, and how I’d been so angry when I found out I was pregnant that second time. I thought about the miscarriage I’d had the morning I left, and how I must have willed it into being. About how I’d wanted that baby so desperately as soon as I’d lost it, but nothing would ever bring it back to me again, and how I hated myself for it. And how I hated him too.
I thought about how I’d done the very worst to him and he to me. I thought about what else he could have done, and then I stopped myself.
“No matter what it is, I forgive you. Don’t tell me at all. Let’s move forward, not backward.” I took his face into my hands and kissed him over and over again. Sometimes the only way through is to walk into the unmarred future, a new grace, an absolution in itself. Sometimes the only way to forgive is to force yourself to forget.
16
Bernice
“Let’s recap for a minute: we’re on day nine of our little ‘five-to-seven-day road trip’.” Reese made air quotes. “The upside is that we’ve met a self-proclaimed guru in South Dakota, been to the Grand Canyon, and renewed your vows—insert eye roll parade here.” She pursed her lips as we regrouped at a diner in Utah for lunch the day after our vows.
“I feel the need to remind everyone that Mt. Rushmore and the Cubs were the only stops we scheduled for this trip,” Benjamin grunted into his cup.
Carl smiled around the table. “Well, son, it’s about the—”
“No, Dad. No.” Reese shook her head.
“We can hit up Mt. Rushmore next year.” Carl rattled the ice around in his cup. “Now that we have Ernie, we can take a trip every year. We’ll fly in style, kids.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see photos of you all traveling about next year.” Reese slurped her water.
“You’re coming, Reesey. Ben too. And Blake. Maybe even Charlie.” Carl put his arm around me. Benjamin choked on his gulp of soda and shot Blake a look that I’m pretty sure only I noticed.
“So what about those Cubs?” Reese swirled her straw around her drink.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” Carl said, running his hand along my thigh under the table. “Our Cubs have upcoming away games so we need to stick to a schedule and get to Chicago before they leave. And no one has time for that. I’ve got some things to do.”
“Ew, gross,” Reese said, her eyes on his moving arm. “Yeah, nobody has time for that.”
Carl removed his hand from my thigh, smiling. “So, the Hamilton plus Blake plan is this: Today, we continue driving east, toward home.”
“If you let me drive, Ernie and I will have us there by tonight,” I said and Rocky barked in agreement.
“It’s another thousand miles. Let’s aim for getting there tomorrow night,” Benjamin suggested. “As long as we’re in Chicago by the weekend.”
“Right. The day after we arrive in Chicago we can watch our Cubs game. The day after that we must leave Blake in The Windy City and return to our respective corners of the world.” Carl looked up as the waitress approached with our food. “Sometimes even the best of journeys must come to an end.”
“So you people are promising me we will be in Chicago in under three days?” Blake made eye contact with each of us in turn, and Reese bit a French fry instead of responding.
Carl nodded. “You of all people need to get to Chicago, Blake, so let’s get you there. Your book is waiting.”
Two mornings later, we were briefly back in Omaha, waiting for Carl so we could get back on the road. Before we left for our trip, Carl had booked his “follow-up” doctor’s appointment and our extended time on the road nearly made us miss it. Of course, I wanted to go with him, but he said I should sleep in, and I let myself be lazy. As we woke up, the kids and I grabbed coffees and wandered out to the front porch, one by one.
“If Ireland had a Mt. Rushmore, I’d vote for the face of Colin Farrell,” Benjamin said from the porch swing.
“Oh, and Liam Neeson.” Reese whipped her hair into a bun.
“Rory McIlroy, and—”
“Harry Potter.” I filed my nails from the steps.
“Um, Harry is English,” Reese said.
“Are you sure? I’ve seen a lot of red-haired people in that show.”
“Sinéad O’Connor!” Benjamin pushed his glasses up on his face.
“Yes. Good one, brother.”
Blake shook his head at the two of them. “We Irish would never desecrate Mother Earth with a Mt. Rushmore. But if we did, the Irish Cliffs of Moher would consist of Oscar Wilde, Benjamin Guinness, James Joyce, and—”
“Bono!” Reese hadn’t been talking much to Blake, but she smiled at him then—whole and unassuming.
“Never Bono.” Blake shuddered. “C.S. Lewis.”
“The Narnia dude? I thought he was English,” Benjamin said and Blake’s face contorted.
Carl drove up, honking, and handed me a chai from Hardy Coffee Co. with a kiss. We clamored for the report.
“I’m fine. There had been one little abnormality from before. But it’s gone.”
“It’s gone?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“Yes, Bee. One hundred percent fine and dandy. But right now, I need to run one quick errand. Blake is coming with me.” Carl clamped his hand on Blake’s shoulder.
“What, is he your favorite now?” Reese frowned.
“Daughter, you know I don’t have favorites, but yes.” He tugged her bun. “Come on, Blake, race you to the car.” He sauntered past Blake, who widened his eyes at Reese and followed.
The kids and I were still on the porch an hour later when Carl pulled in the driveway ahead of Blake and one giant piece of crap.
“Carl, you have got to stop doing this, we’re not a junk yard,” I called. Why did they bring that monstrosity to my home? I could tell it was going to die on my lawn and want t
o be buried there too. I leapt up to let Mr. Blake know exactly how things stood.
That rust pile had to go.
“Happy Birthday, Ben! Merry Christmas! Happy Easter!” Carl yelled and before I could say another word, the three men commenced whooping around the car.
“Good Lord. You all like it?” Benjamin and Blake inspected every square inch of the beast as if it were pure gold. They patted it, rubbed it, grinned at it from all angles.
What was happening?
Carl grabbed me for a twirl right there in the middle of the yard and that was that. “It’s okay, Bee. This is another thing I needed to do.”
“I hope nothing else on this list of yours looks like buying a decaying pile of rust. It’s getting passé.” But my husband’s strong arms pulled me into his familiar warmth, silencing my protests.
If I was going to be wild with anyone, it was with this man right here, and the road ahead beckoned.
Reese
I actually thought Ben’s face would split in two.
A car.
No. The Car.
A 1964, rusted-out blue Mustang.
“Forget the Cubs. I can’t leave my girl. I can’t wait to get my hands under the hood.” He’d circled it ten times.
“Ew, Ben!”
“I can’t drive her all the way to Knoxville in this shape. I’ll have to take trips back here to work on her with Dad, which I’m fairly certain is part of his master plan. And I love it.” He ran his hands over the hood. Blake stood to the side with his arms crossed approvingly while Bernice and Dad danced around the lawn.
“You’re almost cool enough for this car, brother.” I opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat.
“I can’t wait to tell Maya. She’s amazing at working on cars; she’ll want to come too. Can you take a photo on my phone so I can send it to her?”
Ben couldn’t even stand still for the photo, he kept twisting to inspect his new toy.
“Ben, focus!”
“Focusing is your job, get it?”
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