HisMarriageBargain

by Sidney Bristol

  Did she tell the truth or give him a platitude?

  “We just want to get married as soon as possible.”

  “Are you both Jewish?”

  Well, crap.

  “Sammi is. I am not.”

  “No. We do not do interfaith marriages on the island. Good day.”

  “You don’t understand—” The line went dead. She pulled it away from her face and gaped at it. “He hung up on me. The old toad.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marie said, cringing.

  “Not your fault.” Autumn set the phone on the counter.

  She doubted Sammi’s dream wedding didn’t involve a rabbi. He wasn’t overt about his family faith, but it was clear in the little comments he made every now and again that it was important. And she was failing him.

  “I guess if there’s a chaplain, could we have him do a ceremony for us?” Maybe she could do something religiously neutral or incorporate something Jewish. Not that she knew Jewish from not-Jewish, but she was grasping at straws.

  “Yes, I’ll give him a call right now.” Marie grabbed the phone receiver and started jabbing in numbers.

  “Okay. I’m going to get some lunch. Is there a café or something close by?” Her stomach was settled and now she was starving. Maybe she could change her attitude after a sandwich or something.

  “Yes, back into the courtyard and to the left along the outer walk. I’ll call the chaplain and get him to come up and meet with you before your 2:00 p.m. appointment. Does your gown need to be ironed?”

  “Um, yeah, it probably does. My fiancé is resting though. I’ll have to go up and get it later.” Another detail Autumn would never have thought about.

  “Do you want me to send a maid up for you? I can get Eleri. She should still be on that floor.”

  Autumn shook her head. “No, he really needs to rest. Thank you though.”

  “Not a problem,” Marie insisted.

  Autumn plodded off to the café. The day had lost some of its luster. Sammi had said to go for simple arrangements and she’d tried to make it elaborate. But shouldn’t weddings be what you wanted?

  She ordered a grilled turkey sandwich and pulled up a seat to wait for her order. There were a few things to figure out still. Dinner and flowers, for example, but they were low on her priority list.

  It was a lot to consider. She took her glasses off and buried her face in her hands. Maybe she was in over her head.

  “Autumn!”

  Autumn jerked her head up and blinked at Eleri walking purposefully toward her with a young couple following closely behind.

  “Hi.” She glanced between the three.

  “Hi, I’m David Ostro, and this is my wife, Rebekah.” He extended his hand, which she accepted. David was maybe a few years over thirty, in shorts and a floral-print shirt. He had dark, curly hair and bright eyes she felt saw to her soul.

  “Tell her, Mr. Ostro,” Eleri whispered, almost bouncing on her toes.

  David glanced from Eleri to Autumn. “Eleri’s been taking care of us this week. She tells us you’re in need of a rabbi to perform your wedding?”

  “Um—yes,” Autumn replied with some hesitation.

  David spread his hands out. “It just so happens I am a rabbi.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Autumn gasped. She realized what she said almost immediately and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “We’ll pretend like that didn’t just happen. May we?” He winked and gestured to the empty chairs.

  “Yes, please.” Autumn got to her feet, hands fluttering at her side, wanting something to do.

  “I have to get back upstairs, but I’m glad I could connect you,” Eleri said.

  “Eleri, wait. Could you be one of our witnesses tonight?” Autumn asked. On an island of strangers, she was the closest thing Autumn had to a friend.

  “Certainly.” Eleri grinned and headed off.

  Autumn grinned too and sank back into her seat.

  There were miracles in this world.

  “Why don’t you tell us a little about your situation?” David flipped open the menu and glanced over the contents. His wife did the same, but her attention was mostly on studying Autumn’s tattoos while pretending she wasn’t.

  “Okay, well, where to begin?” Autumn chewed her lip. What did she tell him? The truth. “My fiancé is my best friend. Sammi’s really sick, which is why we want to do a quick wedding, our way, before his condition gets any worse.” A world without Sammi’s smiles, his jokes and sense of adventure. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.”

  She grabbed her napkin and blotted her eyes.

  “It’s okay.” Rebekah reached for her hand and squeezed it in a surprising show of comfort.

  Autumn sucked in a deep breath. The thought of Sammi gone was physically painful. She did her best to smile at the other woman.

  “Thank you. Anyways, this sounded like a great idea two days ago when we decided to do it.” Thinking things through had never been Autumn’s forte. She was impulsive to a fault.

  “David…” Rebekah continued to clutch Autumn’s hand, but the woman’s gaze was on her husband.

  David’s brow furrowed, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “Are you Jewish?”

  “Nope.” Autumn squeezed Rebekah’s hand in return. She had an unexpected ally there. “I’d convert if it would make things easier.”

  “That’s a lovely sentiment, and I’m sure Sammi appreciates it, but if you don’t believe in what you’re doing it’s just window dressing,” Rebekah replied. She gave Autumn’s hand one last pat and withdrew her touch.

  “Oh what the heck? I’ll do it.” David closed his menu and rested his elbows on the table.

  “Really?” Autumn gaped at the man.

  “Why not?” He shrugged and smiled at his wife, who had a decidedly more reserved expression on her face.

  “I don’t know, but I’m relieved. Thank you.” Autumn could have kissed the couple, but she didn’t think they’d appreciate her enthusiasm.

  The clock was ticking.

  In a matter of hours—she was really getting married.

  Chapter Four

  Bridge Piercing—A barbell that goes through the loose skin between the eyes across the bridge of the nose.

  Tamara glanced at her wristwatch again. It was unlike Samuel to be more than fifteen minutes late. He knew how cross that made her. He was half an hour late already, and she’d heard nary a word from him.

  Exasperated with her progeny, Tamara rose to her feet and crossed to the delicate marble table. Cleverly hidden behind a stand of flowers was an old rotary phone that matched the rest of the antique garden decor. She dialed his cell phone, growing annoyed when he didn’t answer.

  “Ma’am?” The housekeeper hovered in the doorway.

  “What is it?”

  The woman had been on staff since the beginning of the year and hadn’t lost her nervous, birdlike demeanor. “Samuel’s office called. He left a message that he won’t be in until next week.”

  “Out? Why?” Was he sick? Had she missed something yesterday?

  “They didn’t say, only that no one could get hold of him.”

  Tamara waved a hand at the woman, dismissing her. When she was alone, she took out the silver key attached to her charm bracelet and opened a white door set back into the wall. It was a small room, one her husband had overlooked when they moved in and Tamara had taken for her personal use.

  The room wasn’t more than five by six feet, and at one point had probably served as a patio storage closet. But not anymore.

  Teapots, cups and saucers lined the walls. Mahogany cabinets had been put in on one side, and she’d had them outfitted with more locks to protect the ingredients for her special tea blends. No one could know what went into her brews. It was her closely guarded secret.

  Tamara took a notebook out of a drawer and flipped to one of the recipes she favored most. She’d prepared a tincture earlier and had the dr
iver drop it off for her chef, who was still under the weather. If her son was unwell, she’d need to take him some tea. For his health.

  * * * * *

  Sammi stepped out onto the boardwalk and his breath caught in his throat. Behind him, the small entourage of witnesses, photographer and the rabbi paused.

  “Wow. Autumn’s been busy,” he muttered.

  “She has.” Eleri grinned at him.

  Sammi hadn’t believed it when Autumn had returned to the room, so excited about everything she’d put together. He also hadn’t been awake long enough to process what she said. He’d had to see it for himself.

  Not only had she put together a wedding in under a few hours, she’d put together a Jewish wedding without even knowing the customs. It was his every dream come to life. He almost asked the rabbi to pinch him, just to be sure he was awake.

  The scents and sounds were all too real.

  This was his wedding.

  They made their way down the boardwalk and out to the beach. Sammi’s head spun as he took it all in.

  A short distance from the resort, set up on the sand with the sun in the background, was a chuppah swathed in billowing fabric that looked an awful lot like the curtains hanging in his room. The legs of the chuppah were decorated with the same orange blossoms as his boutonniere.

  Nerves, adrenaline and the sense of standing on the ledge of something big formed a swirling vortex inside him.

  “Oh man.” He stopped and rubbed the side of his face, taking in the scene.

  On second glance, he could see little glass containers with flickering candles in the sand. Hotel staff stood discreetly aside and a few vacationers had pulled up seats along the boardwalk to watch. He was vaguely aware of the photographer, Lou, snapping candid pictures as he took it all in.

  “They did a beautiful job,” Rebekah said in her reserved manner.

  “Yeah, it’s way more than I expected.” He stepped off the wooden platform and wiggled his toes in the sand.

  If his mother could see him now, attending his wedding in gray slacks, a plain white shirt and an orange tie, she’d have another feigned heart attack. On second thought, it was better she didn’t know. In fact, if he could keep the whole wedding from her for a while, they’d all probably be happier.

  David clapped his shoulder before taking his wife’s arm and together they went out to the chuppah.

  It’s really happening.

  Eleri and another graceful black woman approached the chuppah and began creating a path through the sand with orange and yellow petals. They lined the path with green leaves, probably leftovers from the same plants.

  Sammi wiped the dampness from his palms on his pants. David glanced up and gestured for him to approach.

  It was time.

  His heart beat twice as fast.

  He’d dreamed of this for years, corny as it sounded.

  The sand squished between his toes and cooled the soles of his feet from walking over the sun-warmed concrete. He felt every gaze of the curious onlookers as he crossed, skirting the flower-lined path, to stand next to David.

  Lou continued to snap away, capturing every tiny detail.

  “It’s a beautiful day to get married.” David tipped his head back and inhaled the fresh breeze. He wasn’t what Sammi was used to in a rabbi. For one, David had to be near Sammi’s age and he’d bent tradition. The rabbis Sammi was accustomed to would never have performed this ceremony.

  “Perfect weather. Should I take that as a blessing, Rabbi?” Sammi asked him.

  David merely smiled. “Who am I to diminish the good things our Creator has given us?”

  Sammi glanced toward the boardwalk and his breath stopped.

  The world narrowed to one person.

  Sunlight bathed Autumn’s face in a glow. She met his gaze and smiled through a white birdcage veil. Music slowly rose to wrap them in the moment, this instant in time where the only important things were him and Autumn.

  Autumn began her walk down the sand, picking her way to the path of petals. Her short, off-white dress swirled around her knees in the breeze, and the rainbow-colored ruffle running from bust to the wrap skirt tied in her love of color. The streaks in her hair were brighter, her makeup a shimmering of golds and pinks.

  She was, in a word, beautiful.

  He was a lucky bastard.

  Sammi’s heart swelled as Autumn proceeded down the flower-strewn path, her gaze locked on him. His cheeks hurt, and it took him a second to realize it was because he was grinning at her. And she was smiling at him.

  Autumn came to a stop, facing him.

  “Hi,” he said, still taking her in. How the sun glinted off her hair, how she glowed.

  “Hi.” She laughed nervously and he grinned bigger.

  “You look beautiful.” It was an understatement. She wasn’t a traditional bride, but a quality that was uniquely her shone through the trappings and the makeup. She stole his breath.

  “Thank you.” She glanced at David. “Shit. I forgot what I’m supposed to do now.”

  David winked at her. “It’s okay.” To Sammi he asked, “Samuel, is this the woman you agreed to marry? Is she Autumn Schaeffer?”

  Sammi extended his hand and took her hand in his. There was no mistaking his bride. She was as unique as the dawn. “She is.”

  “Very well. We will begin the seven blessings.” David tilted his head to the side and glanced at Autumn as if it were some pre-negotiated signal.

  “Oh, right.” Autumn grinned and headed toward the perimeter of the chuppah.

  She circled around him and walked to the nearest leg of the chuppah. She began her first circuit around him, staying under the canopy as she went. And she was doing her part as well as any Jewish girl. Her gaze landed on him and her smile widened until her dimples appeared.

  Sammi knew he was supposed to be praying, but this time he knew his Creator heard him.

  He held her gaze as she made each circle and held out a single finger for each time she completed a lap.

  Autumn was there, and though she might be his pretend wife, part of him loved her for it. Not only had she agreed, but she’d dropped her life to make this happen for him. All the Dalyas in the world would never command his heart the way Autumn did without even trying.

  Sammi hoped she found someone who loved her the way she deserved when he was gone.

  In the distance the sun touched the horizon, bathing the sky in pinks, oranges, yellows and purples. It was as if the very Earth were part of their ceremony.

  The rabbi began to sing, blessings flowing from him in song, washing over them. In that moment, the farce became a reality. A lump lodged in Sammi’s throat and he blinked back emotional tears as everything blurred together.

  As the ceremony drew to a close, David retrieved two wineglasses from a small stand positioned behind one of the legs of the chuppah. Even the Kiddush, the blessing over wine that Sammi had repeated so often, took on new meaning. Rebekah approached with a braided loaf of challah. This part of the ceremony was symbolic of their new life together. From this moment on, Autumn’s life was entwined with his. There was no going back.

  Sammi tore a piece of the challah, the rich smell of saffron in the freshly baked bread rising, and handed it to Autumn. Fresh-baked challah even on such short notice? She peeked up at him, the fading light suffusing her face with a radiant glow. Together they repeated the blessing for the bread, Autumn stumbling over the unfamiliar Hebrew words. They each placed a piece of the bread in their mouths

  “The rings,” David prompted.

  Shit.

  Sammi had completely forgotten to tell Autumn not to worry about a ring for him. He tapped his pocket, where her wedding band was a heavy weight.

  “Uh…” Sammi glanced between Autumn and David.

  “Are you okay?” Autumn peered up at him, her palm out flat, displaying a simple black band.

  He shoved his hand in his pocket and let his shoulders slump.

  How ha
d she managed to pull it all together so fast?

  “I’m fine, just, this is happening pretty fast.” Sammi chuckled and drew the band out. The diamonds glittered, but no more so than his bride. Autumn rewarded him with a relieved chuckle and presented him with the ring.

  As David spoke, they took turns sliding the wedding bands on each other’s fingers and repeating the vows until they stood, hands clasped, grinning like fools.

  “Eleri, the glass?” David asked.

  Eleri approached with a tray that held one of Sammi’s shoes and a glass cup wrapped in a linen napkin.

  Sammi pulled the shoe on. It wouldn’t do to go breaking glass barefoot. He then proceeded to stomp the hell out of the glass. It shattered with a musical clink and everyone cheered.

  They were married.

  I’m a married woman.

  Autumn wiggled her left hand and watched the diamonds dance in the fading light.

  “Let’s get some pictures of the two of you under the chuppah,” Tony Reisz, their other photographer, directed.

  Lou tossed handfuls of the orange petals down in front of them and moved back to hold lights.

  “Don’t get too posey. Look at each other, smile, do what comes naturally,” Tony coached.

  Autumn tipped her chin up and studied Sammi. Her husband. And she hadn’t even slept with him.

  “You’re looking lovely, Mrs. Zimmerman.” He took her left hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing kisses to each knuckle.

  Her skin prickled and a tendril of desire uncurled in her chest. He was dangerous to her heart, and she didn’t care.

  “Thank you, Mr. Zimmerman,” she replied, heat rising on her cheeks. How could she be blushing?

  “Why don’t you give the bride a kiss?” Tony suggested.

  Her heart leapt into her throat. She wanted to kiss Sammi, crawl into his lap and wrap her arms around him, never letting go.

  “Oh.” Sammi glanced from the photographer to her. “We don’t have to—”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said with more force than was necessary. Anticipation much? She curled her arms around his neck and leaned against him. The fragrance from his boutonniere had combined with his cologne to give him a new scent, one she’d remember forever as the smell of her wedding day. “Married couples kiss. And we are married, aren’t we?”