Echoes in Eternity
What We do in Life …
Part Three
by
Reagan Kavanagh
This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended. Copyright Reagan Kavanagh 2006.
April 2006
REAGAN
I fucking hate this. Wedding preparations. After the production my friend Cecily’s wedding had become, I’d sworn I didn’t want anything even remotely similar …famous last words, right? Of course, there is a difference in what one wants and the realities of what one can get away with under any given set of circumstances. The first time round I’d gotten off easily, putting the whole thing together in less than a week. This time it was an entirely different matter …you guessed it. Maximus wants a formal wedding; traditionalist that he is, I should have seen that coming ten miles in the distance. Invitations, bridal registry, Church, priest, flowers (Appletree Florists was rubbing its collective hands in glee), multiple attendants for bride and groom, organist, wedding and honour attendant gowns, tuxedos, photographer. There was the reception to be planned …wedding luncheon after the service, cake – bride’s and groom’s – champagne, open bar, string quartet, photographer again, birdseed (I absolutely refuse to have people toss rice at me a second time), the limousine. The wedding trip …AKA, honeymoon (that’s such a stupid word), airline tickets, destination accommodations booked for the bridal suite at a five-star hotel (we’ve not yet decided definitely on a location), champagne waiting when we arrive, at least two weeks in duration (I think Maximus would have preferred two months, but Terry said he couldn’t spare him from the office for that long, for which I was grateful). I was sitting at Dee’s bar, my chin in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. She was laughing at me. Some best friend. If I hadn’t needed her help so badly, I’d probably have thrown the contents of the mug at her.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s not funny.” She laughed even harder. I scowled at her. “Bitch.” She was still laughing. “If you don’t stop laughing, I swear to God, I’m going to put you in a baby-pink bridesmaid dress rather than let you wear something becoming to an adult woman.” She shut up. Finally. She poured herself a cup of coffee and refilled my mug. I was already up to two pots a day on my own. What was I going to be like by the time the bloody wedding actually got here? Un-fucking-bearable, that’s what.
“Oh, come on, Reags. This is hysterical, and you know it. I just never thought I’d have the opportunity of seeing you in a flat-spin.”
“No, I don’t know it. Right now I’m ready to break the engagement and stuff his ring up his royal Roman arse …sideways, so it will hurt more.” She started laughing again, looked at me and clapped her hand over her mouth. Fat lot of good that did …her shoulders were still shaking, and tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes. I wanted to slap her.
“Keep the rock. You can always hock it later.” Well, that was a thought. “Why are you suddenly so irritated with Maximus? As far as I can tell, he’s still the same stick-in-the-mud he’s always been, and you adore that about him. You’ve said countless times that his predictability is one of the things you love about him. What’s changed?” I sighed.
“The fact that he’s gone unpredictable on me, dammit! I’m used to Mr. Stoic-in-All-Things …last week was the ‘anniversary’ of our engagement …one of the week anniversaries, and do not ask me which week. He breezed into my classroom in the middle of my lecture with two dozen, long-stemmed St. Patrick roses in hand and laid them on the lectern before pulling me into his arms and kissing me passionately in front of my students. Of course, they loved it. I can still hear their shouts of approval and clapping hands. They’ve been completely unmanageable ever since, and now all my students know about it. I’m asked by at least one student in every frigging class when we’re getting married. As if I would tell them …they’d probably mob the bloody Church.” She started laughing again and didn’t even make an effort to stop or hide it this time. When she finally did stop and caught her breath, I truly wanted to slap her for her next comment.
“Maximus? Big guy, beard, scars on left upper arm …known to have worn a burgundy tunic with a lorica over it, and wolf pelts flapping in the breeze? Oh, geeze …I’d have paid a LOT of money to see that! Was he in full General’s gear when he came to your class? And by the way, just when are you getting married? Is it going to disrupt my fall eventing season? Since I’ve committed to being your honour attendant, it would be nice if I knew when to tell Bigelow that I’m unavailable.” I looked at her, ignoring all but the last question.
“We’ve narrowed it down to two dates, and Maximus has reserved the Church for both of them. He says we can cancel the date we decide against. He said he doesn’t mind paying the additional rental fee. Maximus is as conservative as Terry …can you imagine him doing something like that? It shouldn’t impact your eventing season …I only need you physically present for the week before the wedding and Saturday of the ceremony.”
“I see …well, no, I can't see Terry doing that at all. At least you have to settle on one of the dates before you get the invitations done.”
“And just what led you to that grand deduction? We selected the invitations, and then he ordered two sets …one set for each date. Same thing on the Church and The Mansion for the ceremony and reception. He’s put down two deposits on both locations. He’s lost his fucking mind.” Now she turned serious on me.
“Reags, he hasn’t lost his mind, but he does love you to distraction. And you know that if you want me to take some of the planning load off you, all you need to do is say so.” I gave her a bleak look; I’d hesitated to ask for her help because while she was happy for Maximus and me, marriage just isn’t her gig.
“Would you?”
“You know the answer to that without even asking. Let me fire up Project, and we’ll get to work.” An hour later, I’d decided that Dee needed to take up wedding planning as a career. Of course, I’d not yet given her the list of her duties as Honour Attendant.
MAXIMUS
She becomes more easily stressed – and more annoyed with me - with each passing day. Were it not for her continuing to permit me entry to the house and her ongoing care for my needs and behaviour in our bed, I should have feared she would call off both the engagement and the wedding. In an effort to give her as much latitude as is possible whilst still insuring that we have access to the Church, the Mansion, and date for our marriage ceremony, I have reserved two dates at the requisite locations and ordered two sets of invitations, one set for each possible date.
I have not seen her gown, though it is hanging in a closet at Diana’s. Terry has seen it and assures me it is lovely. It is my understanding that I am not permitted to see the garment until the moment of our wedding. Apparently having the future husband see the bridal gown prior to that precise moment is an omen of negative import. Several months past, I had asked Cassandra if she would be wearing a white bridal gown – she had not yet settled on style - as I understand that is the custom for what is termed a ‘formal wedding.’ In response to my question, I received a scathing look, followed by the statement that ‘white is for virgin brides.’
“Do I look like a virgin to you?” I held out my hands in supplication; there was no suitable response, at least not one that would not risk annoying her further. In my time, white was symbolic of celebration, but I had not known what significance it carried in this time. I did a bit of research and learnt that in addition to implying purity in a physical sense, white is considered a good omen, holding significance for joy and happiness in the union. On putting forth that argument, I had eventually prevailed in persuading her to wear white. I do not know why it is important to me that she do so …I can only say that it is. I could say that when she comes to me on that night, she will be as virginal a bride as a man could wish, as it will be the first night we pass as husband and wife. However, suspecting she would take umbrage, I held my tongue. Two weeks later the gown was on order, and shortly after that, I received a call from Diana.
“Have you ordered your tux, Maximus?” I said I had not, but that it was on my calendar to do so this week.
“Thank God. Take Terry with you. Reags wants you in a pale green cummerbund because that will compliment her flowers, and he knows what shade of pale green will work. I know you don’t. Terry will help you find just the right one.” I thanked her and walked to Terry’s office to ask he accompany me two days hence in order that I might make an appropriate selection. He was terminating a conversation when I tapped on the open door.
“Right. No wurries. I’ll take care of it.” He looked at me and hung up the phone, pulling at his eyebrow. “That was Diana. I understand I’m enlisted to help you find a cummerbund of an appropriate shade so that it will coordinate with Reags’ flowers.” I sank into a chair and looked at him.
“I would appreciate your assistance …I seem to do nothing right at present and have no wish to wear something that will upset her on the day of our marriage.” He smiled, stood, and walked to the credenza, opening and removing a bottle of cognac and two snifters as he had on the day I told him of Cassandra’s and my betrothal. He poured a healthy amount into both snifters, handing one to me.
“Drink up, Max. There are few things you need to know about brides-to-be in wedding-countdown mode.” That was a clearly unnecessary observation on his part; it would seem I had everything to learn regarding brides and wedding-countdown mode. “First off, they’re very touchy.” I raised a brow at him; the comment seemed superfluous, but as he was clearly not to be deterred, I took a sip of my cognac and sat back to listen. I will acknowledge that Terry knows far more about women in general than do I.
“Reagan’s touchy these days because putting together a proper wedding is lot of work. There are things to be done that you and I would never imagine.” I looked at him.
“And you would have access to this supposedly inside information because …?” I made an attempt at sarcasm.
“Because I got roped into the preparations when I married Marjorie.” He leant forward in his chair for emphasis. “Mate, you caught a break here. You’re not active duty military, and you’re not marrying the general’s daughter. So far, Reags has only Diana as an attendant, and you have me as best man to keep you sorted – thanks for the honour, by the way, and I do mean that – but having only two attendants is a rare occurrence in the social circles Reagan moves in. I’m betting there’ll be more before this is done. She may be from a small town in East Texas, but her family has a pedigree that goes all the way back to Mary-fucking-Queen-of-Scots. She’s what’s termed a ‘blueblood,’ Max, and all the other bluebloods in Dallas know that. A large number of them will be at the bloody wedding because Reagan is one who will always do the socially correct thing, even though she may not particularly enjoy it, and she’s invited them because it’s good business …good business for TEO.” I had been totally unaware of those facts and sat up a bit straighter as I listened to him. I was now mentally comparing her tactics in wedding planning to my own in formulation of a battle plan; it was a significant comparison, and increased my admiration for her tactical skills.
“When I married Marjorie, the wedding was a bloody circus. She had ten, count them - ten - bridesmaids, and I had to have ten groomsmen to escort them. Her father insisted on a full military wedding. That meant the groomsmen and I were in formal attire – military formal – complete with belts and sabres. At the end of the service, another dozen of my mates from the unit formed an arch with their sabres, and Marjorie and I, plus the bridesmaids and groomsmen, walked back down the aisle under the arch. At the reception, we cut the wedding cake with my sabre. Think about that for a tic …me standing three feet back from the bloody cake, Marjorie’s hand over mine, and I’m supposed to cut the first slice from the fucker – and do it precisely – from that distance and with the weight of the bloody sabre pulling down on my arm. You may be accustomed to brandishing a gladius, but I was not accustomed to doing anything other than wearing my sabre at my side on formal occasions. When I whipped it out of the scabbard to slice the cake, I damned near sliced my dick off. As I said, Mate, you’re getting off light.”
Perhaps I was. I had never realised that weddings could be so labourious. By the time I learn all there is to know regarding the subject, it would likely be time for our daughter to marry, assuming we were to have a daughter. Appealing though the thought of a female child may be to me, I am beginning to believe I should wish only for male offspring in order to lighten my future burdens. I looked at Terry.
“I truly had no idea of all that is entailed. I am beginning to understand why she is so irritable at present.”
“Before I forget …when she asks you for an opinion or a decision on anything, try and sort out which option she prefers and make that your choice …and be ready to immediately change your mind if she frowns. And Mate, it hasn’t even started yet, that touchy and irritable bit. You’re still five months out from the wedding. Reags and Diana will have last minute fittings for their gowns …you did realise they’re wearing designer originals, right?” I shook my head, having no notion as to what that implied. “It’s like having a Saville Row suit made. We both know how many fittings that requires …multiply that by ten, and you’ll begin to get an idea of how stressful the wedding gown bit is. Reags also has the arrangements regarding the flowers – for the Church and the reception – to deal with, as well as catering, music, an organist at the Church - which means she has to interview and listen to various organists as well as select the music - arranging for photographers at the Church and food for the reception. Mate, there are a thousand details that you’ve never imagined. She’s going to lose weight right up to the day of the wedding, and her gown will have to be refitted again at the last bloody minute. She has to set aside time to go to the hairdresser’s the morning of the ceremony, as well as to have her nails done – fingers and toes – the day before. She has to make time to be waxed.” Waxed? What was that? Best to inquire.
“Waxed? She’s having the car waxed?” His shout of laughter was likely heard three blocks distant.
“Max, she’ll want to have her legs waxed – they apply hot wax to her legs and rip it off opposite the direction in which the hair grows - from her ankles right up to that cute little arse, so she doesn’t have to bother with shaving on the honeymoon. She’ll also likely have a bikini wax, and that hurts.” He ceased talking and looked at me. “You don’t know what a bikini wax is, do you, Mate?” I shook my head. The enlightenment that followed made me cringe in sympathetic pain. It sounded even more painful than having been shaved by a Roman barber using the always dull blade …true razors were unknown in my time, and the sharpness required to cleave off an arm was substantially less than that required to effect a close shave. The average Roman male – myself included - would subject himself to tweezing before enduring the blade and frequently did. Like waxing, it lasted longer.
“I shall tell her a bikini wax is not necessary.”
“Won’t do you a jot of good, Max. Just stay away from her for 48 hours after she comes in the door walking slowly.” He could be assured of that. I would likely sleep in the guest room from that moment until the day of the wedding to insure I did not cause her further discomfort. I sighed.
“What else must I know in order to avoid upsetting her?”
“Haven’t a clue, Max, but we’ll sort it out as it occurs. No wurries.” Each time in the past Terry had said ‘no wurries,’ the situation had – as Cassandra was wont to say – gone to Hell in a hand-basket.
DIANA
“You’re really going through with this, aren’t you?” Maximus was out of town for a couple of days, and we were in my lounge. She looked at me over her scotch and water.
“At this point, I don’t believe I have a great deal of choice in the matter.” She sounded so tired and wrung out; I’d never before seen her with those dark circles under her eyes, not to mention the fact that she’d dropped almost 20 pounds in the last couple of months. At the rate she was going, she’d look like a strung-out Kate Moss by the day of the wedding, and bony collarbones weren’t going to be particularly attractive above the bodice of that strapless wedding gown.
“Reags, if you’re not sure, don’t do this.”
“Oh, Dee, I am sure, and perhaps that’s part of the problem. I think I’ve been waiting for Maximus all my life …I just hate all the bullshit that goes into planning the gig, and I’m becoming a total bitch as a result.” Yes, planning an event this size is a significant pain in the butt, as was Reags at this point; fortunately, the bitch part will pass. They had decided on St. Stephen’s Anglican Catholic Church in Richardson for the wedding, and as Maximus ‘had never been married’ and Reags was divorced, they had to undergo counseling. There was also that bit about having to get dispensation for her to marry in the Anglican Church because of her divorce. The clergy wanted ‘appropriate’ reasons for the divorce. She countered with the fact that after her miscarriage, Bill had left her in the States and returned to Saudi Arabia. The Bishop was duly horrified and decided that ‘abandonment’ was more than sufficient cause. She and Maximus did the counseling bit and got permission. The Bishop and the parish Priest were happily patting themselves and each other on the back; they thought they had a couple of converts, and knowing that Maximus drove a Bentley made them think they had two new members with big bucks in the offing. Well, the money part wasn’t that far off, but I didn’t think Maximus and Reags were going to be front and center in Church every Sunday. Of course, I could be wrong about that; I’ve been known to miss the mark on occasions in the past and not just when I was on a horse.
“Well, you didn’t have to invite half of Dallas.” That got me a scowl.
“I really didn’t have much choice in the matter, and you damned well know it.” I had not contributed to that problem. She had asked for a list of clients who should be invited, and when Maximus, Terry, and Dino put their heads together, they’d realized that quite a few of their local clients had to be invited …along with quite a few of the out-of-town ones; failure to do so would be a major social faux pas that could have major negative business implications. Then there were Reags’ colleagues at the University and her ‘social set.’ I’d honestly never realized that she had a ‘social set’ and literally moved in the upper echelon because of her mother’s pedigree; her dad may have been an Alabama farm boy, but her mom was aristocracy all the way. Talk about 'marrying beneath' you ...I'll bet her parents never let her live that down. A large number of people from Palestine were invited, and I'd bet every one of them would attend. There was the barn crowd with whom Reags and I ride and their respective spouses and partners. The guys Reags had worked with at Quantico were all invited along with their spouses and partners. Ted Ackerman was giving her away …I’d raised my eyebrow when she told me that. Giving her away? Okay, so slap me here, but why in hell would a 38-year-old woman need some man to give her away? I asked, and she rolled her eyes at me.
“Because it’s as much a Roman tradition as a modern one. The only difference is that in Roman times a bride was given away by a married woman. I was planning on walking down the aisle by myself; Maximus almost had a coronary when I mentioned it in passing. His comment was something along the lines of ‘it is not seemly for you to do that.’ I was too tired to argue with him, so I gave over. Ted drew the black bean …well, not exactly. He seemed delighted when I asked him and almost fell over himself saying ‘yes.’ And I’ll be delighted when it’s over.” There was no way I could top that one, so I got myself a bourbon and ginger. We were almost shit-faced by the time Terry got home.
TERRY
They were well into their cups by the time I got home …first time I’d ever seen either of them less than sober. Reags was sprawled on the floor between the couch and coffee table with Holly’s head on her stomach, and Diana was on the couch with Okie lying on her feet. She made a token effort to get up when I walked in, but Okie growled and snapped at her; she lay back with a groan. You'd think the dogs were drunk as well from their reactions; Holly barely moved, and her tongue was lolling out of her mouth. I picked up the little nipper and tossed him out the back door. He may have Diana fooled, but he knows if he snaps at me, I’ll have his arse in a sling for a month. Reags slowly opened her eyes and looked at me.
“Rough afternoon, Love?” I tried not to sound terribly chipper. She groaned. She’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight as I’ll take her keys if she tries to drive home.
“Peachy …and how was your day?
I took off my coat and got myself a scotch before sitting on the couch and slipping out of my shoes. I put my feet in Diana’s lap as she was now sitting upright. “It was good enough.” I turned to Diana. “How was your day? Have you fed the horses yet?”
“Yeah …before I had my first drink. They’re fine for the night.” I think I’ll not join them on their road to alcoholic remorse; one of us needs to be sober for the horses. I’ll get up and feed tomorrow and let Diana sleep in. She’ll likely need that.
“What did you and Reags get accomplished today? I gather you’ve been working on the wedding plans.” No point in asking the principal; she was now curled into foetal position and asleep at my feet.
“Did you not look on the shared drive to see what needed to be accomplished today?” We had long since uploaded the wedding files onto TEO’s computer system so that everyone involved knew precisely what needed doing on any given day.
“I looked, but my name didn’t have any activity today, and I didn’t bother checking on what the rest of you lot were doing.”
“Today was cake-tasting day. I think Reags is passed out from the sugar overload more than alcohol; she doesn’t tolerate sugar well. She’s going to feel like hammered shit tomorrow. I’m going to be roly-poly by the time the wedding gets here because we still have to taste everything on the menu; that’s the big event for this week. I’m hoping this week Reags will be able to put back on some of the weight she’s dropped. Maybe it was poor scheduling to have all the food decisions be made in one week.” Roly-poly?
I reached over and felt her up for love handles. “Can’t tell a difference yet.”
“Give it 72 hours for the calories to settle in …and it won’t be there. It’ll be in my butt and thighs. I always gain my weight there first.” I grabbed her arse and thighs.
“Stop that! If you’re going to grope me, let me sober up first …I want to enjoy it.” I took her drink from her hand, got up and took it to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water and two Pannies.
“Think you can wake Reags?”
“Maybe …. If not, you can carry her to bed.”
I nodded. “Then you stay here. I’ll get dinner sorted and call Max in Toronto to tell him that she’ll be sleeping here tonight, and what's-his-name - Stephen? - across the road to tend the dogs. Wouldn’t want Max calling the house and her not be there. He’d be on his way home on the red-eye.”
MAXIMUS
He was not in his office when I called, and I left a message; he returned my call within the hour.
“Maximus! What may I do for you this fine spring day? Take you drinking? Find you a doxy to raise your Blue Peter? No, that ain’t it ….” Even had Sooze not told me who was holding for me, I would have known his voice – and his propensity for malapropisms and mixed metaphors – anywhere.
“Jack, thank you for returning my call. I have need of your assistance.”
“Anything for a comrade-in-arms, Maximus.” His voice grew serious. “What may I do, my friend? You need but ask.” Whilst I did not have the long-term acquaintance with Jack Aubrey that was present in my relationships with Terry and Dino, after meeting last fall we had exchanged several phone calls, and I had spent an evening with him on a trip to Baltimore earlier in the year. He is a good man – though at times given to more enthusiasm that might be appropriate for the situation – and I considered him a friend. He would also be a good man to have on one’s side in a fight, should the occasion arise, and he be close to hand.
“As you know, Reagan and I are to be married in the fall, and ….” His booming voice cut me off in mid sentence.
“She is a vision of all things fair in womanhood, Maximus. You are indeed a fortunate man.”
“Yes, she is. Jack, I wish you to be one of my groomsmen and serve in the capacity of usher. The wedding is to be large and quite formal, and you would acquit yourself and me admirably, not to mention the reality that you would do well at keeping the other groomsmen in line. As he is one of my partners, Dino will be the so-called senior groomsman, but his levity will do little to preclude drinking to excess amongst the others. Would you consider doing me this favour?”
“I would be honoured, Brother.” Brother. Strange though it sounded, I knew that Jack had called Stephen Maturin his brother and doing so with me was a compliment of the highest accord. “What must I do?”
“The date for the ceremony is the 21st of October. I would require you to be in Dallas for the week prior to the wedding, should you be able to arrange that time off with your commandant.”
“I shall make all necessary arrangements, Brother. We do little sailing in the fall as the North Atlantic storms preclude all but the heartiest of sailors from taking to sea, and I am too old to coddle swabbies puking at the rails. It will be only a matter of having a colleague take my classes in navigation and seamanship for the time I am gone. You have given me sufficient notice to make the necessary accommodations.”
“I thank you, Jack, with all my heart.”
“What are my duties in this matter? Whilst I have stood previously as best man, I am unfamiliar with the function of an usher.” I had no more idea than did Jack …but Cassandra did, and as Jack and I had formed a friendship, I wished her to become better acquainted with him.
“I admit to my own ignorance in the matter, Jack, but Reagan seems to have all matters related to weddings at her fingertips. May I have her call you in order that you may put your questions to her?”
“That is more than acceptable, Brother. When might I expect her call? I shall clear the deck to insure I am not otherwise occupied at the time.” I looked at the clock on my desk; it was three in the afternoon. I would call Cassandra at home and ask her for a suitable date and time, and e-mail Jack in order that he would be available when she called.
“I will confer with Reagan regarding a date and time to call you. Is there one day or time that is preferable to others for you?”
“I am usually at home in the evening and will make sure I am available at the time you advise.”
“Thank you, Jack. I will e-mail with specifics.” We said our farewells, and I called Cassandra.
*
“Cara, I have a request of you.”
“Now what?” I knew that she loved me and wished for our marriage as much as I, but I will acknowledge that her testiness was beginning to wear on my good humour. Terry has assured me that this will pass once the wedding is done.
“I have spoken with Jack Aubrey and asked that he be one of my groomsmen, serving as chief usher. I have no knowledge of the duties entailed in that office and wondered if I might prevail on you to speak with him regarding the matter.” Her tone brightened considerably.
“I’d be happy to do that for you. What’s his phone number, and when should I call?” Her eagerness to speak with him was mildly annoying.
“When speaking with him, I said that I would e-mail him with a time convenient for you. He will make himself available.”
“How about tomorrow around five? That’s six o’clock east coast time so he should be off campus by then.”
“I will e-mail him now and shall bring his phone number home with me.” I rang off and sat looking at the telephone for a moment. The surge of jealousy that shot through me when her spirits lifted at the mention of Aubrey’s name was both foolish and unworthy. He was a friend and meant nothing to her aside from that.
REAGAN
“Aubrey here.”
“Jack? It’s Reagan Kavanagh.”
“Reagan, dear lady! May I call you Reagan? I do not wish to presume. How do you fare? I trust preparations for the happy day are coming along well.” I sighed.
“Of course you may call me Reagan, and frankly, Jack, it’s all driving me up the bloody wall …but Maximus is worth it. I’m so happy you’re to be one of his groomsmen. At least you should be able to keep the rest of them in line after Dino starts pouring the champagne two hours before the ceremony. Maximus has you, Dino, Jeff Wigand, and East Driscoll lined up, but I have no clue as to where he’s going to find the additional five ushers he needs for this. For obvious reasons, he doesn’t know that many people.” Jack’s response to that told me Maximus had said flat, damned nothing about the fact that he still needed five groomsmen/ushers in addition to the five – Terry included in that number - he already had. This was a big wedding in a big Church, and we had more than 500 invited guests …even with seven ushers, all of them would be hopping to keep up with the arrivals.
“I see …Maximus commented on my ability to command with regard to keeping order amongst the men …he still needs five men in addition to those now committed?” Committed …now that was an appropriate term, if ever I’ve heard one.
“He does, Jack, and I don’t know where he’s going to find them. I haven’t met Wigand or Driscoll, but from their films, they seem to know how to behave in polite company …well, East knows how as long as Grace isn’t in the vicinity. Dino knows, but as hyper as he can be, I’m even more grateful that you will be there. If anyone can bring order from chaos, it will be you.” I could almost hear him preening. Hey, I know how to work men …learnt that from a master whilst still a child at my mother’s knee.
“Reagan, dear lady, might it be appropriate to offer five of my finer midshipmen to serve as Maximus’ remaining ushers? They know how to follow orders and comport themselves, and I assure you, should one of them fail to behave appropriately, he would find himself acquainted with the holystone at daybreak.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? Maximus probably didn’t give a damn who his ushers were as long as Hando wasn’t one of them, and Jack’s midshipmen would be trying to impress him with their deportment. This could work!
“Jack, that’s a wonderful idea, and I’m sure Maximus will approve. Let me bounce it off him when he gets home, and I’ll call you back. Will that be okay?”
“Ensure that you bounce him properly, Dear One. Ha ha ha!” Maximus would have been aghast at that comment, but I was laughing as well as liking Jack Aubrey more with each passing moment.
“I’ll take all due precautions, Jack. Talk to you later!” We disconnected, and I could hardly wait until Maximus got home so I could tell him his groomsmen problems were history.
*
“You did what?” He wasn’t annoyed, but surprise was definitely on the menu.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Caro? Look at it this way …Jack’s middies will know how to behave, and if they don’t, they’ll risk his wrath once he gets them back to the Academy. It’s the perfect solution.” He smiled in that way he has.
“If the notion meets with your approval, I am more than satisfied.” I called Jack to tell him to start culling his mids and smiled to myself. At least that was one thing less I had to worry about. I could hardly wait to tell Dee.
*
“Jack Aubrey? You’re shitting me!”
“I kid you not. Jack is one of the groomsmen, and he’s bringing five of his middies to fill out the complement of ten. I could kiss the man.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you could, and I’m sure Jack would let you …and Maximus would kill both of you.” Oh …well, perhaps that was a poor choice of words.
“You know what I meant, Dee. I’m just so relieved that I no longer have to worry about the groomsmen getting out of hand. I was considering trying to recruit some of my colleagues just to be sure Maximus didn’t ask Hando out of desperation.”
She laughed at that. “Well, that would keep anyone from going to sleep during the service …watching Hando watch Dolores …and watching Sooze kill Hando before he got out of the Church after the ceremony would definitely qualify as livening up the event. Is the concept of sanctuary still valid? Sooze would be home free if it is.”
“Somehow, I doubt ‘sanctuary’ would be applicable in that instance. Back to my point. Jack Aubrey is the sole of propriety once he knows what’s expected of him.” There was a long silence. “Dee? Are you there?”
“I’m here. I was just wondering if we were talking about the same Jack Aubrey.”
TERRY
Max had told me that Jack was to be one of his groomsmen and would be bringing along five of his mids to round out the complement. That meant the only ones of the groom’s attendants lacking military training would be East and Wigand. Wigand was raised in the South and was considered a ‘Southern Gentleman.’ Max and Jeff had met on one of Max’s trips to Louisville and had hit it off well. East, whilst unpolished, was smart enough to look round and take cues from the older and more polished of his peers. He felt indebted to Max for having asked him to serve when their only common bond was horses. Why did it now occur to me that this had all the implications of turning into a bloody three-ring circus? Let me sort this out …the line-up at the altar bit. Max and Reags – check. Diana and me – check. Jack and Melody – check. Dino and Dolores – check. This was getting sufficiently complicated that I was now checking the shared drive on the office server when I got to work each morning. Wigand, Driscoll, and Jack's five midshipmen would be responsible for getting all the ladies seated. Three actual groomsmen and seven bloody ushers. At least there weren’t ten bridal attendants.
REAGAN
Did I neglect to mention that Dolores was going to be a junior bridesmaid? Her gown would be a modified version of Dee’s and Melody’s, and in a complimentary colour. Melody – the second adult attendant – was one of my grad students, and we had grown close over the last couple of years. She was an older student – in her early 30s – and had been stunned and flattered when I’d asked her to serve. Dee would be wearing sapphire, Melody in burgundy, and Dolores in hunter green; with that child’s black hair, she would be lovely in hunter green. Terry was in charge of ensuring that the men’s cummerbunds matched the colour of the respective female’s gown. Poor man. He’d offered to help and had looked a bit shell-shocked when I’d sent him off to the tailor’s with fabric swatches; the cummerbunds were being custom made. When did I move from only one attendant to three? Fuck if I know, but there you go.
Dee was laughing at me ...again. “What happened to having only Terry and me as attendants?”
I shrugged and took another sip of my wine as I looked at her. Actually, there was one very good reason …the number of guests at the wedding. Maximus had originally lined up Dino, Jeff Wigand, and East Driscoll as his ushers, but when the guest list hit 500, I realised there was no way that would work unless I slipped methamphetamine into the champagne that would be served to each guest as he or she arrived and doubled what I gave Wigand and East, and Dino would still be in charge. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen …can you just imagine Dino on speed? Nope, not going there.
“The number of guests, Dee. There’s no way East and Jeff - even if Dino helps - could seat approximately 250 females unless I allotted them three hours to do it. The number of groomsmen had to expand, and to keep it from looking silly so did the number of actual attendants.” She nodded; I’m so glad my best friend is pragmatic. We had just returned from the first fitting on the additional attendants’ gowns, and whilst Melody had gone home to work on her data-crunching afterward and Sooze and Dolores had taken off on their weekly errands, Dee and I had come back to my house. Maximus and Terry were at Dee’s for the day, working on fence repairs after a sudden storm had knocked down a tree and plopped it onto a section of fencing. With luck, they wouldn’t be here until dinner time.
Dee stuck a cheese cracker into her mouth, chewed, and then spoke. “And when were you planning on having your gown refitted?” I blinked and looked at her.
“What are you talking about? It’s been done for weeks; it’s hanging in your closet.”
“Right …and have you stepped on the scales lately?” I shook my head in the negative, and she stood, beckoning me to follow her. She pulled the physicians’ model scales in my bathroom away from the wall and looked at me. I stepped on it.
“Put down the glass.”
“Why? It only weighs a couple of ounces.” She gave me that look she has, and I complied as she stepped behind me to move the weights to the point of balance …and frowned.
“Aren’t you usually around 132 to 135?” I nodded as she settled the last counterweight and looked at me.
“Well, Honey, you’re now weighing in at a grand 122 …haven’t you noticed that the seat of your jeans is beginning to look a bit, well, roomy?” I looked over my shoulder and down at my butt …the seat was definitely baggy, as were the legs. I don’t like my clothing tight, but I do like it to more or less fit my form. Thirteen pounds down from my normal weight, and the jeans looked like Hell; I might as well put a ‘room to let’ sign on my butt. I stepped off the scales and looked into the mirror, then pulled up my sweater. No change in the way my bra fit, aside from the fact that I’d recently moved the fastener into the tightest hooks. I grinned at her.
“Well, at least my boobs are the same size. Maximus won’t notice anything else!”
MAXIMUS
“I am worried about her, Terry.”
“Putting together a formal wedding is hard work, Max. She’s going to be a bit unlike her usual self. We've been through this, Mate.”
“I was not referring to her mood. I was referring to her recent weight loss.” He let go the fence rail as it slid into place and turned to look at me.
“She is looking a bit ragged about the edges, now that you mention it.”
“Her clothes hang on her. She has circles under her eyes and hollows in her cheeks. Every rib is visible, and the bones in her hips have begun to protrude.”
He chose that moment to be flippant. “Protruding hip bones, eh? That could make for an uncomfortable ride.” He saw my lack of appreciation of his attempt at humour and sought to make amends.
“Mate, I told you she would lose weight whilst putting this together. It’s to be expected. She’s a tall woman and slim to start …every pound she drops will show more easily than on a woman who normally carries a bit more flesh. Do you know what she normally weighs?”
“Around nine-and-a-half stone. I am sure she has lost at least one, and I fear she will lose more before this is done.”
He nodded briskly before speaking. “Likely can’t be helped, Max. Marjorie lost weight coming up to our wedding, and she was four months gone on the wedding day. You might try fattening her up a bit. Feed her a bit of fast food or junk food …chocolates might do the trick.” That was unhelpful.
“Terry, Diana likes chocolates. Cassandra does not.”
“More potatoes then? Pastries and the like?” I shook my head again.
“She dislikes heavy foods. I do not recall the last occasion I saw her eat so much as a single bite of potato, nor does she crave sweets.”
He looked thoughtful then smiled. “Have you thought to call Sharon Fletcher?”
“What has she to do with this? I assure you, Cassandra is not with child. Even should she be so inclined at this point – which she is not – I would not permit that to happen before we are wed.”
“Give her a call, and tell her what’s up. Ask about antenatal vitamins. Marjorie’s doctor put her on them straight away on discovering her pregnancy. They seem to have the side effect of making women hungry. I’ve known a couple of women who took them all the time because of the calcium load they pack, and that makes their nails stronger and less likely to break, but they did complain about the accompanying weight gain. I doubt they’d hurt her, and Sharon would likely give you the name of a good brand. You can pick them up at any chemists’ shop – no prescription required – and just make her take one each morning.” The notion of making Cassandra take anything unless she wished to do so was amusing, still it was worth a try. I would call Sharon on Monday. I would have accepted his next words from no other man without umbrage, but I knew Terry was concerned about Cassandra, and his immediate intent was to alleviate my concern.
“Cheer up, Max. The good news is that your preferred cushion is intact …she doesn’t appear to have lost an ounce in her breasts.” We laughed as we returned to our labours.
DIANA
We were sitting at my bar, going through yet another of my Project printouts.
“Invitations …check; thank God, you finally settled on a date. Food …check. Flowers …check. Photographers …check. Church …check. The Mansion …check. Limo …check. Music, to include organist and the string quartet for the Church and reception …check.” I stopped because Reags was rubbing her forehead, a sure sign that she was either worried or getting a headache or both. My guess was a headache.
“Need some Tylenol?” She nodded. “Want to wash them down with scotch or water?”
“Water …we have too much to do for me to start drinking this early in the day.” It was three in the afternoon. My perspective has always been that it’s five o'clock somewhere; I got her a scotch and water, and she grinned when I sat it in front of her along with the bottle of Tylenol. Back to the list.
“Attendants’ gifts …has Maximus ordered the gifts for his groomsmen?” She nodded. “And you’ve ordered them for Melody and Dolores?” She nodded. “And what are you giving me?” She quirked an eyebrow at me. Well, it was worth a try. I put a check beside that entry.
“Wedding favors for the reception …check. Counseling sessions with the minister …check. Invitations addressed …we have three months before we have to mail them, and that date’s on the calendar …check. Bridal showers …check.”
She stopped me at that one. “Bridal showers? I don’t need bridal showers. I have a house full of appliances and furniture …what the Hell could anyone give me?”
“That isn’t the point. The point of a bridal shower – or showers – is to let your friends express their love and good wishes. It also allows us to ridicule you for walking down the aisle a second time. They would have been offended if I’d told them no showers.”
“ShowerS …as in there’s going to be more than one?”
I nodded. “Yes …I’m giving one and inviting the barn crowd as well as Nancy and the other women you know around here, and your dean and Melody are giving one and inviting all the faculty women and your grad students. Unfortunately, I have no control over what you receive for actual wedding gifts, so you’re on your own there. You can always open an account on e-Bay to get rid of the duplicates and white elephants.”
She buried her face in her hands before looking up at me. “Dee, I don’t need three more toasters or another set of Corning Ware.”
“You won’t be receiving any toasters or Corning Ware as shower gifts. I’ve made a list, and people have already signed up for what they’re giving you …there won’t be any duplication. There are things you need …you just don’t know what they are.”
This time she laid her head on her arms on the bar and looked sideways at me. “And you would know this how?”
“I have a key to your house, remember? And Maximus helped …he’s amazingly intuitive for a man. Too bad there aren’t more like him and Terry out there.”
She reached for her drink. “I give up.”
I knew she would.
*
I answered the phone on the third ring; it was Terry.
“What’s all this new stuff on the shared drive?”
“I now have irrefutable proof that you don’t check the drive every day …I added that last week.” This was Wednesday.
“I see …checking up on me, are you?”
“Nope, just pointing out the obvious.” He laughed. He still had more than sufficient time to take care of his duties as best man; I just wanted to be sure he didn’t miss anything.
“I don’t recall any of this bit when I married Marjorie.”
“Of course you don’t, and that’s the point. You were too oblivious to notice what was happening. I hope you gave Nigel Groome a really nice best man’s gift, because he’s the one who did all this for you.”
There was a pause before he answered. “In looking this through, I think I’d best contact his local bottle shop and have a case of Fonseca Vintage Port delivered to his house along with a belated note of thanks. I’d no idea.”
Yeah, that’s what I thought. I looked at the wall calendar above my computer workstation as I hung up the phone. The wedding was just over five months away. If I could manage to keep Reags from having a meltdown, and Terry could keep Maximus’ spirit from dragging due to his constant worrying about Reags, the wedding should go off without a hitch. I do love Uncle Bill’s Project …it considers all contingencies.
REAGAN
“Why now?” I was not a happy camper. I wasn’t an unhappy camper. I was one very pissed off woman because her fiancée was taking off on a week-long business trip, and their wedding was five months away. Maximus was leaving for Riyadh in two days.
“It is time to renew the contract, and the client is unable to travel here to effect that. Further, two potential new clients wish to see me. You know I would not leave you at this time were it not necessary.” Of course, I knew that. I suspect that – given a choice – Maximus wouldn’t be more than six feet away from me from now until after the wedding. I think he still expects me to bolt, though surely in his heart he knows I won’t. Though I detest all the minutiae involved in planning a wedding, the result – marriage to a man whose every breath is a blessing for me – is more than worth the temporary annoyance. What was not worth the annoyance was Maximus’ telling me last night that he was leaving at eight in the morning the day after tomorrow for Saudi Arabia for six to eight days. If I could have gotten my hands on Terry Thorne or Dean O’Reilly at that moment, they would have been dead men.
“Why can’t Terry or Dino go in your place? They know you need to be here right now.” The patience in his voice when he answered almost made me want to slap him. It was the tone taken with a recalcitrant child, one to whom everything must be explained in excruciating detail and in the most simple of terms to insure comprehension.
“Cara, the Middle East is my territory; it is my responsibility to make this journey.”
“Then what was the point of the three of you making those trips to get to know the others’ contacts?”
“That was for purposes of an emergency that would preclude the primary operative making the journey. Further, the meetings were not with our respective clients; they were with those individuals who supply us with materials necessary to complete assignments.” I knew that, but I was in a mood to be pissy and kept talking.
“I see …clearly, our engagement and marriage aren’t sufficient reason to keep you here and let one of the others make this trip.” I regretted my words immediately, as the flash of pain and guilt in his eyes told me he wasn’t any happier about this trip than I was. His calm, rational response made me feel like a bitch …and at that point, I was being a bitch.
“Sadly, I have no option in this instance. We are three-quarters of the way through our fiscal year and Dino is engaged in quarterly reports. As he completes his review of each account, it is passed to Terry for review of feasibility of continuing with the contract in the coming year, terminating it, or effecting a decrease or increase in premium based on current risk assessment. Final determination of that feasibility will require visits to the clients. Terry has accommodated us – you and me - by arranging for he and Dino to take those visits that I would normally make for the period immediately following our marriage, thus allowing us an appropriate marriage journey. I have the responsibility of making visits to my clients prior to our marriage, as do Terry and Dino with their clients.” At least he didn’t say ‘honeymoon;’ if he had, I’d have screamed. I sighed. Even I know when I’m beaten, and I do respect pragmatism and responsibility.
“I know, Maximus, I know. Honestly, I do, and I understand. I just don’t like it …and I’d be lying if I didn’t say so. It’s probably nothing more than pre-wedding jitters, but I don’t want you to go, and I can’t help that.” He held out his hand and drew me down onto his lap on the couch.
“Nor do I wish to make this journey, Cara, but I have no choice. It is my duty; I would not shirk it even if I could.” That did it. Strength and honour …the things I loved most about this man, things I had no wish to change. Nothing would make me happy about this trip, but I stopped carping about it. Maximus had enough on his mind without listening to my whingeing over something we couldn’t change. I would see him off at the airport in two days with a smile on my face and a kiss that would make him count the minutes until he returned.
To be Continued
NOTES
The Mansion One of Dallas’ more elite hotels is The Mansion on Turtle Creek, usually referred to simply as ‘The Mansion.’
Mids Midshipmen. The term applied to students below the level of ‘upper classmen’ at the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland.
Stone An Imperial metric measure of weight. One stone is equivalent to 14 pounds.
Uncle Bill A reference to Bill Gates, founder and CEO of Microsoft Corporation.