by G M Eppers
Badger said, “Sir Haughty went on ahead.” That made sense. He probably had some preparations to make before the ceremony for which we would not be needed. “And the girls are going to follow us.” He couldn’t resist scratching his neck where the collar was binding as he opened the door. “It’s nice out, at least. The cabs are waiting. There are others coming for the girls in about fifteen minutes. We’ll all meet up at City Hall.” Normally, we would get downtown by using the Metro, but not in our best clothes. A best clothes event called for taxis.
The cummerbund felt crooked, and despite Roxy’s attentions, I pulled on one side until it felt even. “I thought swearing in happened at the White House.”
This time Nitro answered as he led us out the door toward the two waiting taxicabs. “Sir Haughty had the option, but he’d have to wait until July. City Hall does them more often, but most people wait for the big deal at the White House. Sir Haughty’s been there, so it’s not that important to him. Doing it now allows all of us to be there. There’s no telling what the situation will be come July.” He held open the door to the back seat of the front taxi and Knobby, McGrone and Badger slid into it. Nitro walked back to the rear taxi and opened its door, waving me in. “Honestly, don’t you read your texts? This was all planned out more than a month ago.”
I slid into the cab. “City Hall,” I told the driver, and buckled myself in. Nitro came in after me and shut the door. “Actually, no. I don’t remember any texts about that.” There was a reason I didn’t remember them. I hadn’t gotten them. But I didn’t think about why just then.
The ride to City Hall was uneventful, Nitro commenting on the cherry blossoms popping out all over D.C. It was actually kind of relaxing. The last few weeks had been crowded with the aftermath of the counterfeit case on top of several new cases that had had us in Idaho just two days ago, and in Luxembourg last week. My father was now in the county prison without bail, a known flight risk. I enjoyed his dilemma. If he told the truth about what happened on top of Building 4 he’d be locked away in Bellevue for a decade or more. He’d have to settle with people believing he was too scared to jump the gap to the fire escape on Building 5. Junior was lying six feet underneath a huge monument purchased with the remains of blood money. Charles Krochedy had been escorted to the funeral in handcuffs, and then promptly escorted back to his prison cell where he was serving forty-five years for six counts of tax evasion and eight counts of grand larceny. The homeless who had helped with the counterfeiting of dozens of cheese products flipped almost immediately, now enjoying their new homes as wards of the state. The owners of the motorcycle and boat were both compensated for their loss by the federal government. Helena Doone just had to replace the cooling system. She didn’t want a new boat. Even the helicopter pilot had been identified and arrested. Most importantly, Grandma was safe.
Which was very good because if I’d left Roxy there much longer we’d be visiting Roxy in prison for murder. It seems Grandma had asked Roxy for a red skein of yarn. Roxy had given her one from the large pile of various reds, only to be told it was watermelon. A second try identified as apple, and a third strawberry. Roxy is persistent, and kept her cool through pomegranate, raspberry, cranberry and guava, at which point she dumped the container on Grandma’s lap and told her to find the red herself, asking if this was a yarn basket or a fruit basket. She was ecstatic when Badger and I finally arrived with the all clear some six hours after we’d left her there. Just to be safe, they kept police surveillance on her for a full week, but they both requested a transfer when she kept coming out to their unmarked with cookies and trying to set them up with the daughters or sons (she liked to cover all the bases) of the women in her crochet club. Finally, all was peaceful in Springfield, as far as I knew.
Our two taxis pulled up in front of the Moultrie Courthouse in Judiciary Square and we got out. It seemed like a hundred years since the twins and I had come here to get our marriage license. A couple of bikes were chained to the metal racks, various cars were in the perpendicular parking spots lined up in front. A large concrete entryway was protected by an angled row of cement bollards, and the multiple entry doors of the imposing limestone building were made of crystal clear glass. Once inside them, our progress came to a dead stop as we waited in line for security. We had to empty our pockets, take off our shoes, and submit to a wand before coming through the other end to reassemble ourselves. So much for Roxy’s detailed attentions. As careful as we were, I’m sure something came out crooked. I just wasn’t exactly sure what. It might have been the middle toe on my left foot.
As I tried to shake my toe straight, I hobbled over to the directory posted on the wall, wondering what office handled naturalization ceremonies. Nothing on the list sounded likely. Behind me, the guys were adjusting each other and asking for help, clearly wanting to look perfect. I thought it was nice of them to go to so much effort. Sir Haughty did have a fashion sense, albeit a British one, but he probably would not have been offended if there was wrinkled waistband in the crowd. “I don’t see anything about where to go,” I said.
Badger pulled my arm. “I know exactly where to go. Follow me.” Badger led us up a couple of escalators and through the hallways.
He stopped in front of a door. It was marked “Nondenominational Chapel.” “Badger, this isn’t the usual venue for a swearing in ceremony.”
Badger straightened his tie for the twentieth time. “It’s nondenominational. They use it for everything.”
I waved down the empty hallway. “Where’s everyone else? Sir Haughty can’t be the only one getting sworn in. There should be dozens of new citizens and tons of friends and family. It should be a madhouse.”
Badger’s shoulders sunk in disappointment. “Okay, just open the door, would you? We only have the place for an hour.” He looked at his watch. “Fifty-four minutes.”
“An hour?” I looked at all of them. They were all in on it. They were hopping impatiently, almost as if they needed to use the restroom. “What is going on?”
“Tick tock, Billings. Open the door.”
I twisted the knob and opened the door to find a modestly sized, luxuriously carpeted room with rows and rows of simple, padded folding chairs, some of which were occupied. The occupants, hearing the door open, turned around to see who was coming. I recognized Grandma in the front row, grinning madly. Miss Chiff sat on the other side, grinning decidedly less madly. The room was sparsely populated by others I didn’t know, all dressed in their very best clothes.
I held my breath. There was a central aisle with a white satin runner down its entire length that led up to the simple altar. Sprays of flowers were off to each side. Orchids, tulips, and roses in deep shades of red, what Grandma might call tamarillo or overripe bayberry, were set off by baby’s breath, pampas grass, and rods of bamboo. A white cloth was draped over the altar. To the left of the altar, facing us, Sylvia, looking like an entirely different person in a tight fitting burgundy dress matching Roxy’s, stood wearing a flowering corsage on her left wrist. Dinny Rosensglet stood next to her, and as I stared in wonderment, Roxy came trotting down the outside aisle, inserting herself to Sylvia’s left. To the right of the altar stood Sir Haughty, in his top hat and burgundy cravat. After edging past me, Nitro and Knobby took their spots next to Sir Haughty.
Badger remained next to me. “Badger, is there someplace you need to be?”
“With you.”
“What?”
“You’ll see. Come on.”
Badger matched my pace as we walked to the front and I took my spot, while Badger stepped closer to Roxy. They winked at each other, grinning. As I turned to face back the way I had come, Sir Haughty was at my left shoulder. “You guys planned all this?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “It just happened by accident. Now, shush.”
“What about your swearing in?”
“Don’t be such a gullible git. That’s in July at the White House. Now, shush, I said.”
Once everyone
was in place, piped in organ music began. All heads turned to the back of the chapel and the anticipation was palpable as we waited for the doors to open.
I stood there hoping this wouldn’t be too much of a spectacle. It was apparently what the twins wanted, but if felt to me like a birthday at King Kerfuffle’s Party Emporium where you sit on a pedestal and the serving staff sing to you in Barbershop Acapella:
Mommy got promoted
Daddy wrote a play
Sister learned to tie her shoe
Brother got an A
It doesn’t matter what you did
That makes you say HOORAY
You need to come and celebrate
The King Kerfuffle way
So climb atop our pedestal
The spotlight is on you
As we celebrate your birthday
With very much ado
Then the door opened at the back and the spotlight moved away from me. There they were. Avis, wearing a snow white satin gown with full-length lace sleeves. The skirt was mostly straight with just a little flounce at the bottom that showed the toes of her white pumps as she walked. There was no train. On top of her head was a simple white headband, and a lacy veil fell in front of her face. Agnes’ dress matched the other bridesmaids, with a wrap around their connecting band that blended smoothly between the two colors. What was even more surprising was the man accompanying them down the aisle, by necessity holding Agnes’ arm rather than Avis’.
Dressed in a white tuxedo, Badger’s boyfriend Roger Sandoval was guiding the twins down the aisle.
When the music faded away, the oddest wedding party of all was assembled.
I was lost. There’d been no rehearsal and no one had sent me any memo on what I was to do. But I took Avis’ hand in mine and turned to face the altar, prepared to play it by ear. While we’d all been distracted by the entrance, the twins’ minister had slipped in from a small room behind the altar. I turned to Avis, and the rest of the room disappeared for me. I was breathless.
I took her hands in mine. They couldn’t exactly be equal, so my right hand was a little further away. “Avis,” I said softly, “I don’t know what to say.”
“This will teach you to leave the team for a month.”
“Dearly beloved,” the minister intoned. “We are gathered here on this momentous occasion in the presence of these witnesses to join Billings Ulysses Montana and Avis Dorothy Nicely in matrimony, and also,” here he turned slightly, “to join Gerrold Emmanuel Collins and Roger Miguel Sandoval in matrimony. If anyone here can show just cause why either of these unions should not proceed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
He paused. I assume everyone in the room looked at everyone else in the room, but I didn’t look at any of them. I was looking at Avis, wishing it was time to lift the veil and kiss her. The minister didn’t give anyone time to build up the courage, but just moved on. “The institution of marriage began millennia ago as a process to unite families that would otherwise be enemies. Over time, it was more of a business transaction than an expression of devotion, with the participants often complete strangers. In ancient Rome, the symbol of the union was already the exchange of rings.” The minister spread his hands apart, bringing attention to Sir Haughty near me, and Roxy near Badger.
Sir Haughty reached into his breast pocket, bringing out his burgundy handkerchief. Unfolding it, he revealed two gold bands. The loops were slightly offset, made to mesh with the engagement rings we were already wearing. On the other side, Roxy produced rings that Badger and Roger had picked out, slipping them out from under her wrist corsage. I took the smaller of the two rings, and Avis picked up the larger one, as we listened to the minister’s words.
“A circle is a common symbol. It denotes the endless nature of the commitment, the encompassing of the two into one being, an eternal source of power like the sun, and a welcome source of light in the darkness like the Moon. A circle indicates a cycle, that we are now entering into a new phase of life which will be shared in a totality like no other. The Yin and Yang together form such a circle. Inside a circle is safety and peace. We form circles around campfires. Our ancestors would circle the wagons to protect each other. Native American dreamcatchers were formed in circles. It is only natural that the circle would symbolize the protective union we call marriage. Each of you please place the rings on your partner’s fingers.”
Avis slipped the ring she held onto the third finger of my left hand, locking it together with the engagement ring there. She held her left hand toward me. The pinkie and rink finger had only been liberated from each other for a few days. Agnes had to take a step over so I could reach more easily. I glanced up at Agnes, concerned that she was feeling left out, but she was smiling at her sister, looking proud enough to burst. The vows were coming up, and I hadn’t written any. But that was okay. I wasn’t going to have a problem.
“Accepting the rings,” the minister continued, “is an acceptance of the responsibility bestowed on you by this union. I want each of you to look into your partner’s eyes – “ I started to lift the veil, but the minister stopped me gently. “Not yet. Don’t worry. She can see you just fine. Now, in turn, all of you tell your partner your personal vows.”
Avis looked at me through the veil guiltily. She was going to speak, but I raised two fingers and put them in front of her lips, pushing lightly against the mesh of the veil. “It’s okay, Avis. I’ve got this.” I let go of Avis’ left hand and put out my right hand toward Agnes, making a circle of our own. “I vow to never use the words ‘don’t get attached’ when we watch movies with a body count. I promise to never correct your grammar or spelling on the Internet. I will hold the umbrella over both of you and let myself get wet. I will always let you use the shower first, because, let’s face it, we’re never going to be sharing it. It’s too crowded. I want us to grow old together. I want your faces to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night, even if you wear cold cream and curlers and a hair net. I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Okay, so it wasn’t Shakespeare, but it was off the cuff and from my heart.
Behind the veil, Avis’ eyes were twinkling. She then proceeded to recite Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116, often referred to as the most romantic Sonnet, changing the word ‘man’ in the last line to ‘woman.’ We touched foreheads through the veil as first Roger, then Badger, spoke their vows as well. There were sniffles in the audience and a honk of someone blowing their nose.
The minister continued, “Do you, Billings Ulysses Montana, take Avis Dorothy Nicely to be your lawfully wedded wife. To Havarti and to hold from this day forward, in Siltcoos and in Halloumi, for Richelieu and for Port Wine, until Dehesa do you part?”
Tearing again, I grinned at their inclusion of cheeses, wondering if it was actually legal. It had to be. That wasn’t the most important part of the ceremony, anyway. “I do,” I said.
He repeated it for Avis, who also replied, “I do,” and then used the standard wording for both Badger and Roger.
“By the power vested in me by the District of Columbia and Mother Llewelyn’s Online School of Divinity and Sushi Preparation, I now pronounce you husband and wife, and husband and husband. You may kiss your partners.” He stepped back, spreading his arms wide, and the recessional organ music was piped in.
“Wait,” I told Avis, “Mother Llewelyn’s what?”
“Never mind. He’s doubling as the caterer. Didn’t you hear the last part?”
Inside my ear, I heard my mother’s voice hissing, “Kiss her, you idiot.”
Across the aisle, I saw that Roger had dipped Badger almost to the floor. Not to be outdone, I lifted the veil and tried to dip Avis, almost causing a three person pile-up. “Bridge of Escher?” Avis whispered to Agnes.
“You got it,” replied Agnes. They still stumbled a bit on the maneuver and Agnes said, “Hold on. We’re used to doing this naked.” But between the three of us we finally reached the right pl
ace. Roger and Badger had finished their kiss and all eyes were on us. I could feel them. I didn’t care. I bent in, and kissed Avis until I hit uvula.
THE END
You’ve reached the end of the book. Thank you for reading!
Get the whole series on Amazon:
CURDS and WHEY #1: It’s All For the Cheddar
CURDS and WHEY #2: A Shred of Dignitary
CURDS and WHEY #3: Frankenstein’s Muenster
CURDS and WHEY #4: The Caravane Connection
Or as the box set of your choice:
CURDS and WHEY #1-#3
CURDS and WHEY #1-#4
And keep up to date on upcoming titles or contact me on my Facebook page:
G.M. Eppers
Feedback, comments, criticisms, and suggestions are all welcome!
You’ve reached the end of the book. Thank you for reading!
Get the whole series on Amazon:
CURDS and WHEY #1: It’s All For the Cheddar
CURDS and WHEY #2: A Shred of Dignitary
CURDS and WHEY #3: Frankenstein’s Muenster
CURDS and WHEY #4: The Caravane Connection
Or as the box set of your choice:
CURDS and WHEY #1-#3
CURDS and WHEY #1-#4
And keep up to date on upcoming titles or contact me on my Facebook page:
G.M. Eppers
Feedback, comments, criticisms, and suggestions are all welcome!
