The Traiteur's Ring (21 page)

“You look so beautiful,” her mother breathed at her as she passed, standing beside her folding wooden chair in the sand. The look on her face told Christy she was sorry for being wrong about the wedding. Most of the past week her mom tried to talk her into a big church.

“What’s the hurry, for God’s sake?” she had asked, and then covered her mouth at the thought. “Oh Jeez, you’re not pregnant are you?”

Christy had assured her that, no, she was not pregnant – just ready. She insisted this outdoor ceremony would be perfect, especially with only twenty or so people in attendance. Her mom’s glowing eyes said she had been right. She flashed a nervous (no, excited) smile to her mother. Her mom dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue and mouthed that she loved her.

Christy walked up to Ben, stood beside him, and stared him squarely in the throat. She would look at those storm-filled eyes in a moment when this silly, teen-age wave of emotion past. She felt his fingers under her chin gently tilt her face up, and she stole a look. At once, she felt tears well up, a smile exploded on her face, and all of her worries about embarrassing Ben evaporated. Ben smiled down at her with wet eyes filled with more emotion than she had seen from him in all the time they had been together.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered to her in a voice that quivered.

The waterworks spilled onto her cheeks, and she touched his face with the palm of her hand and nodded, afraid if she whispered back her voice would sound like Kermit the Frog, the overwhelming emotion now a tight belt around her throat. She vaguely heard the collective “Awwww…” from the women in the small group gathered to witness their vows.

“Ahem,” the Chaplain, Commander Wiltshire she remembered, said to signify they might need to look at him for the next few minutes.

She reached down and took both of Ben’s strong, calloused hands in hers. Her mind made a soft note that the ring still held its place on Ben’s hand, its surface a soft and glowing orange and so shiny. She guessed she could see herself if she bent over. She turned to face the preacher.

Christy felt like she blinked, and the whole thing was over. She had images etched forever in her mind – the single tear that ran down Ben’s cheek when he repeated his vows, the embarrassing stutter she found in her voice when she repeated hers, the hug Amy gave her when she took her flowers, and the inappropriate “Hell yeah!” that Reed bellowed when the Commander announced they were married now (man and wife, he called it). But the rest just evaporated away and even now – just minutes later as they got hugs and handshakes – she could recall almost nothing else from the ceremony. She didn’t care. The images she had were hers forever, and the rest didn’t matter except that she would wake up with the man she loved for the rest of her life.

Except when he’s far away, God’s knows where, doing terrifying things – or if he one day comes back draped in a flag.

Christy shook her head and scolded her inner voice that this was not the place or time. She knew the risk of marrying this man, but knew that she would never be happy with anyone else – that he completed her and that made the risk a no-brainer.

“Welcome aboard, sister,” Chris said as he hugged her tightly.

“Thanks so much,” Christy said and then hugged his wife Emily who smiled broadly.

“Congratulations,” she said in her ear. “You guys look so happy.”

“Thanks,” she said and reached for her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “I think we really, really are.” The hand in hers felt warm, and she thought it tingled a tiny bit – like a vibration.

“I know you’ve been waiting for this,” Reed said with arms open and a frat boy smile. “You didn’t have to marry my loser roommate just to get a kiss from me, baby. All you had to do was ask.”

Christy rolled her eyes but laughed at the familiar joke. She kissed their best friend and then hugged him tight.

“Thanks, Reed,” she said.

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“For always being there for him,” she whispered in his ear. She knew that kind of thing embarrassed Ben terribly.

Reed looked down at his feet for a moment and arched his eyebrows. When he looked at her again she saw perhaps the first serious face he had ever worn in her presence.

“You got it all wrong there, sis,” he said, his voice a low conspiratorial whisper as he cut his eyes over at Ben who hugged Emily and laughed at some joke. “That man of yours is the best friend I ever had, and he’s the one takin’ care of me.”

The words and Reed’s soft genuine voice touched something in her, or maybe it was just the surprise at hearing any of these men show real feelings, and she felt her eyes well. “Truth is I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that crazy Cajun.”

She hugged Reed again, and he patted her uncomfortably on the back.

“I love you both, sis.”

He had never called her sis before today, and now he had done it twice. She liked it a lot and hoped it stuck.

And, then Reed headed off toward the makeshift bar they had arranged on the expansive deck a short wooden path away from the gazebo. Walking the plank they had called it at the retirement ceremony, and the memory made her laugh. She watched Reed a moment, worried about the obvious limp, and then looked over at her husband. His eyes caught hers and sparkled.

Then, Amy was shrieking congratulations in her ear and bouncing up and down and the moment left. But she kept it with her while they drank, laughed, and ate the little wedding cake Ben had insisted they buy.

Amy got pretty wrecked and for a while Christy worried she would hook up with Reed (and with some guilt she worried more that it would suck for Reed than for her friend). Other than that, she took away only happy memories of an afternoon with their closest friends in the world. She had never put much stock in the magic wedding day thing. To her it seemed more like the kick-off for the really good stuff – the life together. So many of her friends had wrapped themselves in the fairy tale of only that first day, and that always seemed kind of sad. So, she felt genuine surprise that this had been the happiest and most fulfilling day of her entire life.

A great start to the long life she intended with the man she cherished. 

Chapter 19

He loved these men, but not as much as this woman. He realized he really wanted to be alone with his wife and tell her all the things the day had meant to him. Ben grinned at the thought. He must be with the right woman if she could make him look forward to talking about feelings.

He watched Reed slow dance with Amy, and they both stumbled around the uneven deck. No one else danced. They had some music playing, but it had been meant as background noise only. “Mood music,” Christy had called it. That didn’t seem to bother either of their drunken friends as they shuffled around the deck to David Gray’s anything-but-dance-music sounds. He saw that each had a handful of the other’s ass cheek. Ben took a sip of red wine (he couldn’t remember what kind she had told him it was) and leaned over to his new wife.

“Please tell me that is not going to happen,” he whispered as they watched their friends. Christy giggled.

“Oh, God, I hope not,” she whispered back. “That would be a tough couple of weeks for all of us.”

He laughed and looked closely at her smiling face. She felt his gaze and looked over, one eyebrow up.

“What?” she asked and sipped her own wine.

“I love you so much,” he said. He couldn’t believe how easily those once difficult words now came.

She batted her eyebrows at him.

“Wanna show me?” she asked her hand on the outside of his leg.

“Hell, yes,”

“Rrrrrr,” she used best tiger noise. It always made him laugh.

Ben kissed her mouth and took her hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Agreed,” she answered.  “One quick pass through the group to say thanks and see ya, but we gotta go consummate this thing now.”

That really made him laugh, and he let her lead him by the hand through the group. More hugs and handshakes. Though he ordinarily hated any kind of attention, this didn’t bother him at all. He thought maybe the fact that it meant so much to them both made his discomfort fade into the background. He watched her smile, laugh, and thank their friends. He just tagged along – smiling and hugging when it seemed the right time.

Yep, me, too – like she said.

The group followed them down the wooden walkway that led off the dunes and into the parking lot. He would have preferred they just slip away, but not much could really bother him today, he realized. Amy and Reed were conspicuously absent, doubtless still groping each other (or worse) out on the deck, but everyone else stopped at the end of the walkway. There was no rice or bird seed, but lots of waves and cat-calls as they said goodbye again.

“Are you okay to drive?” she whispered to him as they turned from the small flock of friends.

Ben didn’t answer but, instead, grinned and gestured towards the parking lot.

The limousine sat with its quiet engine purring, and the driver, complete in black suit and even a black driving cap, hustled around to get the door for them. Christy stopped, and her hand went to her chest. She squeezed his arm.

“Oh, God, Ben, what did you do?” she asked. “I thought we said no more money on the wedding after we agreed to the open bar.” But her voice told him
Thank you, baby, this is perfect.

“You look like a princess or a super model or something,” he said. “You should leave like one.”

He escorted her to the elongated car where the driver stood nearly at attention, his hand on the door. Ben helped his wife into the plush seat and then walked around to the other side quickly while the driver closed her door. He wanted to get in before the driver tried to get his door, he realized. That might be more than he could take. He slid in beside his wife, and she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

“Thank you, baby,” she said. “This is perfect.”

“Straight to the hotel or drive a bit?” the driver asked over his shoulder as he settled into his seat.

“Drive a bit,” Christy answered for them both. “Is that okay?” she asked Ben sheepishly.

“Perfect,” he said.

“I’ll have you at the hotel in about forty-five minutes,” the driver said. “Does that work?”

“It does,” Ben responded.

“Alright then,” the driver answered. “The champagne is already open and chilling in that bucket, and the glasses are in the panel on your side, sir.”

“Thanks,” Ben answered and reached for two glasses.

The driver nodded and then disappeared as a dark panel rose up from behind his seat. Then, they were alone. Ben poured them both a glass of sparkling wine, the first glass overflowing over the back of his hand and dripping onto the carpeted floor.

“Shit.”

Nice – very romantic.

Christy laughed, obviously unfazed.

He held up his glass.

“To us.”

“Hooyah,” she shouted, and he laughed out loud at her use of the SEAL mantra.

“Hooyah,” he answered back, and they drank.

He decided he preferred the red wine, but the champagne still tasted better than he had imagined. Christy laid her head on his shoulder a moment and hugged herself to his arm.

“Thank you so much Ben. You made this the best day of my life.”

She turned her face up, and he kissed her. Her mouth opened, and her free arm snaked around his neck in a passionate embrace. Reed had told him (the only marital advice his best man could come up with) that he should “nail her” in the limo. The kiss nearly made him question his decision to wait – that “nailing her” in the limo might not be the best way to start off his life with his best friend. He stole a glance at the blackened panel between them and the driver and wondered if it was one way glass and the driver watched them at this very moment. The kiss ended, and he chuckled.

“What?” Christy asked with a knowing smile.

“Nothing,” he smiled back.

She looked at him coyly and ran her hand up the inside of his thigh.

“We can if you want,” she breathed into his ear, and the stirring in his pants said “Hell yeah”. Fortunately, it was in Reed’s voice which just made it funny. He kissed her deeply and then touched her cheek.

“Or we could wait forty five minutes and make the first time as married people last for an hour,” he offered.

Christy seemed to consider for a moment and then took a long pull of champagne. Then, she shuffled her way to the front of the limo’s cabin and rapped on the black panel. The panel lowered slowly.

“Yes, Ma’am?” the driver said.

“How about you make it more like twenty minutes to the hotel?” she said, looked at Ben, and raised her eyebrows three times in rapid succession.

Ben laughed as she worked her way back to him, her champagne held high and her other hand holding the top of her dress to keep the “twins” from spilling out. She collapsed next to him, her head in his lap, and she closed her eyes.

“Kiss me, husband,” she commanded.

“Of course, Mrs. Morvant,” and he obeyed.

Seventeen minutes later by his watch (and two more glasses of champagne which, it turned out, got better as you went along) they slid out of the limo as the driver held the door. Ben handed him a twenty and gave him the patented male of the species thank-you nod. The driver nodded back and handed him a plastic swipe card.

“Your room key, sir, and your buddies checked you in, your bags are already in the room, and they upgraded you to a suite…top floor, room eighteen-twenty-two.”

“Thanks, bro,” Ben said and shook the man’s hand.

“I’m supposed to tell you two things,” the driver leaned in with a red faced grin.

“Okay,” Ben said slowly.

“Well, the first is that your airline boarding passes for the morning are already printed and in the front pocket of your backpack in the room.”

“And, the second?” Christy asked with a good-natured smile.

The driver sighed. “The second is from Reed, and he said to tell you ‘I knew you wouldn’t nail her in the limo.’”