Where the River Ends - Charles Martin [61]
Abbie said, “I will,” as the words as long as you both shall live rattled through my brain.
“Abbie, repeat after me.” Her eyes were wet, glassy and I wanted very much to take her away to a church, for a proper wedding. Abbie should have been dressed in white. Not denim and a white T-shirt. She should be dragging a long train, and flanked by fifteen sniffling girlfriends catering to her every need. There should be flowers spilling out of the church, an organ, a soloist, a man playing bagpipes, a priest with a long robe, flower girl, ring boy…But in every scenario I created in my head, her parents appeared. And when they did, Abbie’s glassy-eyed smiled disappeared. Abbie would have endured it out of obligation and when we looked back on it, there would be no joy. The smile on her face, framed by that cheese-dog arbor and lit by yellowed decade-old lights, would never have occurred in anything in which her mother or father played a part.
Sometimes when I look back I think that maybe I should have stepped in, brokered a peace, but I wasn’t strong enough then to face her folks. I didn’t know how, and to be truthful, I didn’t care about their peace. I cared about hers.
Abbie finished repeating her vow and there it was again, keep only unto him, as long as you both shall live.
Judge Fletcher motioned to me. “I, Doss, take you, Abbie, to be my wife. I promise to stand beside you and with you always, in times of celebration and in times of sorrow. In sickness and in health, I will live with you and love you, as long as we both shall live.”
While my lips moved and my vocal cords made the sounds, my heart pushed a question to the surface. I don’t know why, it just did. How does she know I mean this until I’ve done it. I mean, how does she know?
Abbie held my hands in hers. “I, Abbie, take you, Doss…” Her upper lip was sweating, a vein throbbed on her right temple, a tear was cascading down her face and her right hand was trembling. That told me two things: a migraine headache had just come out of nowhere and that, by itself, told me everything I needed to know. Abbie was all in. She was betting her life.
Judge Fletcher cleared his throat. “From earliest time, the ring has been a symbol of wedded love. It is a perfect circle to symbolize the unending love you promise.” He poked me in the shoulder. “Son, have you got the rings?” Palm up, I held them out. “Good. Slide hers halfway on her finger and repeat after me.” I slid the ring over her first knuckle and noticed that Abbie was absolutely glowing. That’s when it hit me. She didn’t need white. She deserved it, yes, but she didn’t need it.
“This ring I give you, in token and in pledge”—I slid it over her knuckle and pressed it gently against the back of her finger—“of my constant faith and abiding love.” Whoever owned that ring in the past had simply borrowed it for a time, because it fit like it had been made for her all along.
Abbie slid my ring over my first knuckle and began repeating after the judge. As she spoke, her eyes lit. Despite her public persona and the fact that she’d pretty much conquered the world at an early age, her private, emotional side was more guarded. But there beneath that arbor, she stepped out from behind the shell she had barricaded around herself.
The judge folded the printout and sighed. His nose hairs were long, curly and made a little whistle sound on the inhale. He looked at the two of us, shook his head and frowned. “And now, by the power of the authority vested in me and having heard you make these…pledges of affection, I pronounce you husband and wife.” He raised his eyebrows. “Congratulations. You may kiss the bride.”
DESPITE OUR BEST ATTEMPTS at stealth, word spread quickly. We had yet to step foot out of the courthouse when Abbie’s cell phone started ringing. When she didn’t answer, mine rang.
She leaned against me. “Where can you take me where no one will find us?”
“I only know of one place and it’s not too glamorous.”
“I’ve had glamour.”
So I took her to the only place I knew anything about.