The Bootlegger's Wife: A Love Story

by Terri Lee

  After carrying her bags upstairs to her room, he kissed her good-bye on the front porch.

  “You’ll be safe here tonight.” He spoke to her in a soothing tone as he stroked her hair.

  “I’ll be back early tomorrow afternoon and we’ll talk more then. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  Frances leaned against the door and surveyed her surroundings. The small room was dressed in ruffles of cheeriness, but it did nothing to alleviate her shaking. Left here in a strange place on her own, she was suddenly overwhelmed with fear. What had she done?

  She sat down on the edge of the bed that squeaked beneath her, but she paid no attention. Bits and pieces of the night’s conversation were swirling around her like demons threatening to haunt her sleep. What must Frankie think of her family? She was sure he was scandalized by such behavior. The irony of that fact did not escape her. He was an orphan, that was true, but both of his parents had died. He was not an orphan because his parents had said, “You no longer exist.” It was one more thing to forever cement them together. For from this moment forward, they might very well both be orphans.

  She fell over on her side and cried into her pillow. Real tears. The kind of tears that had been pushing up against the dam for some time. She cried for a lifetime of dreams, and all that had been taken from her on this night. She cried for Frankie and the scurrilous treatment he had received at the hands of her parents. She cried because she was forced to face the ugliness that she could no longer excuse away with her usual sarcasm. She cried until she was exhausted and then fell into a dreamless sleep on top of the covers, clutching an unfamiliar pillow.

  ***

  Frankie returned the next afternoon, having left work early, and Frances met him in the parlor. She had awakened with a new determination. A steely resolve, honed to perfection over the years. Last night’s tears were spent and left in the chintz wallpapered room upstairs. Today, she greeted him with a genuine smile and he looked relieved as he stepped through the door. But he would give her every opportunity to change her mind.

  “Is this your polite way of saying you’ve changed your mind about me?” Frances countered after Frankie had asked her if she would like to reconsider.

  “I could never change my mind about you. My mind was made up about you the moment I looked into those brown eyes. I was lost forever.”

  She grinned as he took her hand.

  “I just hate the way that this had to end, that’s all.”

  Frances sighed, “Well it’s how it began, it’s how it has always been, so it’s only natural that this is how it would end. I was crazy to think there could be any other outcome. This story was written a long time ago, long before you entered the picture. There is no need to blame yourself for any of it,” she counseled.

  Frankie hung his head and then spoke softly. “I don’t want to be the one to deny you the beautiful wedding that would be your due.”

  “Oh Frankie, I appreciate that, but you’re not denying me anything,” she lied.

  Frankie seemed unconvinced by her cavalier dismissal. “I know that every little girl dreams of her wedding day and you would have one fit for a princess.” He caressed her fingers. “When I saw you standing up there at Lucy’s wedding, you looked like Venus on a pedestal. With the golden light from the stained glass dome falling softly over you, it looked as if someone had painted you there. That’s when I knew it. I said to myself, I’m going to marry that girl. I knew it as much as I’ve ever known anything in my entire life. And I could picture you on your own special day. Only I knew a wedding for Frances Durant would be ten times more spectacular.”

  “You’re probably right,” she had to agree. “But it’s not that, Frances Durant getting married today.” She continued in a soothing tone intent on convincing him. “I’ve had lots of parties in my life, I’ll survive. I’m much more concerned about the marriage than the wedding.”

  Frankie looked relieved at what he heard. “If you’re sure.”

  “Positive.”

  “For what it’s worth, I still refuse to think this will be the end.”

  “You’re right about that.” Frances nodded happily, “This is the beginning.”

  ***

  The two of them made a nervous pair as they entered the courthouse. They produced the marriage license they had procured several days ago. The clerk who was used to young couples with stars in their eyes, crooked his finger in a signal to follow him to the courtroom that would be their church. Frances looked up at the tall windows that were not made of stained glass as they pushed through the small wooden swinging gate that divided the rest of the courtroom like an altar rail from the inner sanctum.

  They squeezed one another’s hands while they waited for the judge to appear and Frankie could see Frances biting her lip.

  “You look beautiful,” Frankie whispered.

  She looked like a bride. She glowed from within and without. Her soft, ivory-colored dress had bits of lace and tiny seed pearls and was as much a wedding dress as she was able to find on such short notice. She had to smile, knowing that her father would be receiving the charges for her recent shopping spree and like it or not, he had purchased her wedding dress. The small hat perched on her dark head completed the picture.

  Finally, the judge entered through the side door and took his place from on high. This was the part of his job that he most enjoyed. Instead of hearing and seeing people at their worst, he saw two people at their very best, with all the hopes of their future on their young faces. And instead of handing out sentences, he would hand them a decree of matrimony. It was always a good day when there was a wedding to perform, and for those brief moments, his faith was restored in humanity.

  The ceremony was short and sweet, and Frances offered up her vows to a judge instead of a priest. Do you, Frances Elizabeth Louise, take …yes, she did. Do you, Frances Joseph…yes, he did. At least Frances thought he did. She couldn’t be sure she had heard everything over the knocking of her knees. The slim gold band that matched her engagement ring was slipped on her finger.

  There was no need for organs or singing choirs or yards of lace trailing down the aisle. It mattered not, cathedral or courthouse, for it was the same two hands that were joined. It was the same two shaky voices offering up their vows and it was the same God who found them there in that old courtroom, who bent down low to hear the whisperings of their hearts. And it was enough.

  Although there were no crowds of well-wishers to send them on their way, they skipped down the courthouse steps as if they were rushing under a shower of rose petals. As they settled into Frankie’s borrowed Packard, he looked over at her and grabbed her hand.

  “We’re married!” he shouted.

  “I know,” she giggled.

  “We’re married! Hot dog!”

  Frances threw back her head and laughed along with him. Frankie reached over and took her face in both of his hands. His joy was palpable. She was breathing hard from the excitement.

  “I love you,” he whispered as his lips touched hers.

  “I love you back.” She laughed between kisses.

  Frankie turned the ignition and they sped off toward their future. There was no turning the car around now.

  TWENTY FOUR

  “Oooh Frankie, how wonderful.” Frances squealed over her shoulder as the valet at The Biltmore took her hand and helped her from the car.

  “Well we only have one wedding night.” Frankie’s chest puffed out ever so slightly. He hurried to her side as the bellman followed. With a swoosh, swoosh, the large revolving door deposited them into the lush lobby.

  “Reservations for Mr. and Mrs. Frank Lee.” Frankie beamed to the front desk clerk and then winked at her as the gentleman scoured the list to find their names tucked in amongst the glitterati.

  “Ah, here we have it.” The uniformed clerk looked up, “The newlyweds, eh? Congratulations.” He smiled brightly as he pointed to the page on the register for Frankie to sign. />
  “Thank you.” Frances answered his smile with one of her own. She had plenty to give.

  “We are honored that you chose The Biltmore for such a special occasion as your wedding night. Please let us know if there’s anything you require.” The gentleman said as he handed Frankie a gold key ring.

  Frankie nodded as they were escorted to the elevator and were whisked to the tenth floor.

  Frances stepped across the room and went to the window to inspect the view as Frankie busied himself with the bellman and their cases.

  “What do you think, my tiny bride?” Frankie came up behind her and encircled her waist with his arms. She leaned back against his chest and sighed.

  “I think it’s perfect.” She turned around to face him. “Just like you.”

  “Well you just keep thinking thoughts like that and we’re going to have a perfect marriage. In the meantime, we’re going to have a wonderful night of dinner and dancing, anything you want. Why don’t you unpack while I check on a few things and I’ll be right back?”

  She didn’t have to ask what he was up to. She knew he was off in an attempt to make this evening even more special, and she would leave him to his plans.

  ***

  “To my bride,” Frankie lifted his glass in a toast and Frances happily clinked her glass with his, then took a sip of her iced tea.

  Frankie winced, “I sure hope this isn’t a bad luck omen, having a wedding toast with iced tea.”

  “I don’t think it will matter. We have plenty of other things to overcome.” Frances shook her head with a smile.

  “True enough.”

  Dinner was a long, slow affair under giant palms in the aptly named Palm Court where every detail was exquisite. The two of them were nestled in a private corner of the large space, where expensive drapery panels were expertly swept back from the large Palladian windows with bronze tie-backs in the shape of palm fronds. Frances didn’t want to rush. She wanted to savor every bite, every look from across the table. This was her wedding night and years from now, she wanted to be able to pull up the memory of this evening that would be safely tucked away in the tissue paper folds of her mind.

  Their gazing was interrupted as the little dessert trolley rumbled to a stop at their table. Before Frances could hold up her hand to refuse, the waiter produced a tiny cake that looked like the top tier of a wedding cake crowned with a diminutive bride and groom. Her eyes grew round as she looked from the waiter to Frankie and back to the cake. The miniature newlyweds smiled up at her as if to say that everything was going to be just fine.

  “How…when…?” She fumbled. She didn’t know how or when but she certainly knew whom. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes as she was reminded once again of the depth of thoughtfulness that her new husband possessed. She was indeed the luckiest girl in the world.

  Once they had had their fill of feasting, they moved into the Cascade Room where every couple seemed to be more beautiful than the last. The music was inviting and Frankie nestled her into his arms and steered her about the floor. She was lost on a desert island, and though she could hear some faint rumblings from the natives around her, they were too far removed for her to pay them any mind.

  “Let’s hear it for a couple of newlyweds here tonight folks. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Lee, where are you?” The band leader belted from the microphone in the break between sets, as he shaded his eyes, looking out into the dark crowd.

  Frankie and Frances waved from their spot on the dance floor. The crowd erupted in applause. Those close by slapped Frankie on the shoulder and shook hands while the ladies smiled or winked at Frances. The happy pair danced and swirled for most of the evening, but Frances swore her feet never touched the floor.

  ***

  Frankie fumbled with the room key and Frances took a deep breath as he opened the door and stood back to let her enter first.

  “Oh my,” she caught her breath as the scene took her by surprise. There were rose petals strewn on the bed and the small lamps had been turned on to lend a soft glow to the room along with a few strategically placed candles. Someone had been very busy while they were dancing. Frankie had obviously thought of everything.

  He handed her a single red rose and smiled, “Something to remember me by.”

  She grinned, taking the offering from his hand. How could she forget that day that seemed so far away, now? That day when she could have never imagined that this day would be possible.

  Frankie strode to the bureau where a silver ice bucket held a smuggled bottle of champagne. “Now we’ll have a proper toast.” The cork was removed with a pop then a small sigh as the bubbling promise was poured into two glasses.

  “To the beginning. And may we have this much love in our hearts at the end.” He held his glass aloft and Frances echoed the sentiments as the bubbles tickled her nose. A long, slow kiss sealed the deal.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I will slip into something… appropriate.” Frances slid her hand down Frankie’s chest and left him standing there with his mouth open as she sidled into the bathroom.

  Once behind the bathroom door, her bravado left her in a hurry. She stared at the reflection in the mirror. The dark-haired girl looking back looked a little unsure of herself. She pulled out the white satin nightgown that she had stowed away for this moment. Snippets of teenage conversations bubbled up from long buried memories accompanied with images of giggling girls with their facts askew. There was no need to be worried, she counseled the skeptical girl in the mirror. “This is my Frankie I’m talking about.” She would be safe with him. After all, he was the answer to her soul’s question.

  She let the cool satin fall over her head and slide down her body and by the time the hem hit the floor her reflection was ready to smile back at her. She gulped down her second glass of champagne and wet her lips. She had to admit that the bulk of her nerves revolved around the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Frankie in any way. But she had resolved that she would give him all she had to give. She would abandon herself completely and it would be a sweet surrender. She need have no fear of being lost, for she knew that Frankie would be right there beside her to lead her home.

  Frankie caught his breath as she opened the door. She stood before him, raw, vulnerable, and shimmering in the satin gown that kissed her curves as it unfolded to the floor.

  He marveled at this creation. This woman full of contradictions. At once shy and sensuous. Soft and smoldering. An innocent, completely unaware that his every emotion was tied to each flick of her eyelash and the tip of her tongue as it rolled over her lips. He was beside her in an instant. Holding her hand, he stepped back to take in every bit of this tiny treasure.

  “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he whispered huskily.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “I was hoping that would be my ticket.”

  She was such a petite thing, he easily swept her up into his arms and spun around until the two of them were slightly dizzy and Frances begged him to stop.

  He carefully laid her down on the bed like the delicate flower she was. Looking down into her smoky, eyes her beauty almost took his breath away. She was a vision in white satin and he still couldn’t believe she was his.

  A dark strand of hair clung to her lips and he brushed it aside. Those lips. He once thought he was ready to die there, but tonight there would be more. As always the smell of her skin intoxicated him, and her kisses reduced him to a helpless addict, begging for more. She drew him in, deeper and deeper, and he gave up willingly. Tongues took up the dance and the promise, as he flung himself head first into a darkness where nothing existed but her love.

  With one expert finger he slowly removed the thin spaghetti strap of her nightgown, the opening chord to the seduction. He bent to kiss her shoulder then let the tip of his tongue barely graze her skin as he traveled down between her breasts. Her gown slid away from her body and goose-bumps sprung up. He could feel her slight trembling.

 
“Do you trust me?” He looked up at her, his hand on her stomach.

  She nodded wordlessly.

  “I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and her muscles relaxed with his vow.

  She responded with a natural instinct, her body rising to meet him as his arms tightened around her. In many ways this would be a first time for him as well. For he had never been in love like this. So completely. So wholly lost in the needs of the woman beneath him.

  Soulful eyes looked up at him expectantly, he realized that he held her world in his hands. He reached over and turned off the little bedside light. She was about to come face to face with a part of herself she had never met. Encountering emotions that would come sweeping in with the tide. But he would take her there gently and he would allow her to explore them from the safety and freedom of the darkness.

  It was just the two of them. The universe resided in the circle of their arms. Moonlight found its way in and cast her silver glow on the pair of them and the stars presented themselves as wedding gifts.

  ***

  Their love was a magical spell that wove its way through the night. By the light of morning, Frankie realized that he had been wrapped completely in her mystical threads. He was inexplicably wed to her very essence. And when his days were done, that would be where they would find him, still bound to her. Heart and soul.

  Brown eyes fluttered open.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Lee.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Lee.” The sleepy response came with a smile. “What are you doing staring at me?”

  “Watching your every move. “ He didn’t bother trying to disguise the truth. “I was just lying here telling myself that I’m going to take very good care of you.”

  Frances bit her lip in a seductive grin. “Yes, you did.”