The Black Chapel

by Marilyn Cruise

  “Welcome,” I say, opening the door with a smile. “Please come inside.”

  “Now I remember you.” Reverend Summerlin beams at me. “I remember seeing you in church. How romantic. You two met there and now you want to be married. This is Carl, and he’ll be witnessing the marriage today.”

  I nod to Carl, a timid young man, and try to give him an authentic smile, but I’m too distraught to even manage. Michael glances at me briefly, but then looks away. His eyes have dark circles underneath, and there is a sorrow in them that wasn’t there before. Oh, God, I still love him! I’m marrying this man today, but it’s only for the money. What could possibly be worse? Focus, Scarlett. You dad needs you.

  “Tell me more about your story,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  “I don’t want to be rude, but we are really in quite a rush. Do you mind?” Michael says.

  Reverend Summerlin’s eyes flinch, but then she smiles warmly. “Of course not. So, do you have pre-planned vows you’d like to share?” she asks.

  “No,” Michael says. “We just wanted to get married quickly and quietly, we haven’t had a chance to plan anything like that.” He laughs, and I think he sounds way over the top. Not such a great actor now, I think.

  “I understand,” Reverend Summerlin says with a twinkle in her eyes. “Did you have a certain spot in mind?”

  “No, here is fine,” Michael says.

  But there are things we need to discuss before we make our vows, I think. I’m not going to interfere. I’m not going to interfere, I’m not… Okay, I have to say something. “What about the details?” I say to Michael.

  “We already took care of that, remember?” he says through his teeth, shooting me a don’t-mess-with me glance.

  “No, not all of them, dear,” I say, and smile.

  “Excuse us for a moment,” Michael says to Reverend Summerlin and grabs my elbow. He leads me upstairs, takes me into my room and closes the door. “We already signed the contract, Scarlett.” He is angry.

  “But what about our living situation? Do you want me to move in with you? And what about my work? Do I need to keep working to support myself, or will I have an allowance?” I hate how that word sounds allowance. “And what about—”

  “Let’s just get married since the Reverend is here and we can work out the details later. Do you trust me enough to do that?” he asks.

  Oh, no, he didn’t. “Trust?”

  He huffs and touches his forehead. “Dammit, Scarlett. Do you trust our deal? This is a business deal and nothing else, do you understand?”

  I swallow the lump that is growing in my throat. “Yes.”

  “So, do you trust I will keep my end of the business deal?”

  “Yes.” I look at him, my eyes burning, from anger or pain, or both.

  “Good. So do I. Now, shall we get on with it?” Michael says.

  I open the door and we head downstairs again.

  “Sorry about that,” I say entering the living room. “We just had one little detail to work out.”

  Carl looks a little confused, but Reverend Summerlin just smiles.

  Michael comes in behind me. “Everything is fine now. Shall we?” He takes my arm in his and I feel a pang in my stomach. This is the moment. I mustn’t cry. I don’t want Michael to see how much this is affecting me. That I’m still mourning the loss of him, and of us.

  “Alright, you two, ready?” Reverend Summerlin says.

  We both nod.

  “Please take hands and look into each other’s eyes,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  There’s an awkward pause, but Michael finally take my hands in his and we look into each other’s eyes. I wonder what Michael is thinking and feeling. Does he miss me as much as I miss him? Or does he just despise me because I withheld some information from him? His eyes are cold, but there is emotion behind them.

  Reverend Summerlin begins the ceremony. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Scarlett and Michael in marriage. Through their time together, they have come to realize that their hopes, dreams, and goals are more achievable and more meaningful through the combined effort and mutual support provided in love, commitment, and family; and so they have decided to live together as husband and wife.”

  I am not ready to hear the words she is speaking. They are powerful, and now I fully realize the sacredness of the marriage vows. What a liar I am, taking on these oaths.

  “Marriage is love. True marriage is so much more than a wedding. It is the beginning of your eternal journey together. It is the sealing of each of your hearts together as one. It breathes on the love you give each other and never wearies, but thrives on the joy and happiness of each new blessed day. May you always be able to talk things over, to confide in each other, to trust each other, to laugh with each other, and to share in everything from this day forward. May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home of warmth and understanding,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  I can’t help but hold back the tears. This is so not what I wanted out of my life. But I can’t lose my dad.

  “Now for the vows,” Reverend Summerlin says, turning to me. “Do you Scarlett Hansen, take Michael Manning, to be your husband in life and in sharing your journey; abundant in love, a mirror for your true self, promising to honor and cherish, through good times and bad, until death do you part?”

  “I do,” I say, hearing the quaver in my voice. My eyes can no longer hold Michael’s gaze, and I look away.

  Reverend Summerlin reads the same vows to Michael.

  “I do,” Michael says.

  I look up at him again. His face is stone cold, not a single emotion showing anywhere now.

  “Do you have the rings?” Reverend Summerlin asks.

  Crap, the rings! I hadn’t thought about that.

  “Yes, here,” Michael says, pulling out a small black velvet jewelry box from his pocket. He opens it and inside is my wedding band and his wedding ring. He hands me his wedding band.

  “Scarlett, please repeat after me,” Reverend Summerlin says. “I have for you a golden ring.”

  “I have for you a golden ring,” I say.

  “The most precious metal symbolizes that our love is the most precious element in my life,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  I repeat her words, barely able to talk.

  Reverend Summerlin continues. “The ring has no beginning and no ending.”

  “The ring has no beginning and no ending,” I say.

  “It symbolizes that the love between us will never cease,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  I pause, it is so overwhelming I don’t know if I can say the words. Reverend Summerlin repeats the words and somehow, I manage to say them.

  “I place it on your finger as a visible sign of the vows, which have made us husband and wife,” I say.

  I repeat the words and place the white gold ring on Michael’s ring finger.

  Then we repeat the vows for Michael. He still looks like he couldn’t care less. Either he’s really good at hiding his emotions, or he simply doesn’t love me anymore.

  Reverend Summerlin is smiling from ear to ear. "And now, by the power vested in me by the State of Oregon, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.”

  I try to smile, and manage a little.

  “You may kiss your bride,” Reverend Summerlin says.

  Somehow in my very fogged up, depressed state of mind, I had forgotten about the kiss at the end. Michael will not want to kiss me, I know it. But this may very well be the last kiss we share. The nostalgia overwhelms me and suddenly, I’m crying again.

  Michael doesn’t hesitate and nears me. He leans down, letting his lips press against mine. But this time, I don’t let myself fully experience the electricity between us. He pulls away all too soon.

  “Oh, come on now, Michael, it looks like you’re kissing your grandmother,” Reverend Summerlin says. Carl laughs.

  Michael chuckles nervously, but then, for whatever reason, he grabs me,
swoops me down and kisses me fervently, tongue and all.

  I feel my knees wanting to buckle underneath me. Even now, with all that has happened, he still has this intoxicating effect on me.

  After we finish the paperwork, Reverend Summerlin and Carl congratulate us and wish us good luck. Then they’re off and we’re all alone.

  30

  “Want to sit by the kitchen table?” I ask. To me it seems like the best place since there’s somewhat of a boundary between us. Like it would protect my broken heart somehow.

  “Yes,” Michael says and we sit down. He folds his hands on the top of the table and I see the ring on his finger. It looks so good there. Now, for a short time, he’s mine.

  “So here are the final terms of our deal. To make it believable, we need to have you move in with me. We can’t have anyone suspicious of us, so unfortunately we will have to share the same room, and have it appear that we share the same bed. But don’t worry, I’ll be sleeping on the floor.” His voice is bitter.

  “Why, Michael? Do you think I’d be making a move on you?” I’m being sarcastic, of course.

  “No, I don’t. I just don’t know if I trust everyone working for me, and if it got out that we were sleeping in separate rooms, well, you know how that looks.”

  “You shouldn’t trust everyone who works for you,” I say.

  Michael’s eyebrows rise. “Why would you say that?”

  “Your mom visited me earlier, and she said that someone in your household keeps her up to date on what you do.” I hold my breath.

  “Who?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

  “Your butler.” I look down at the table.

  “I’ll be damned.” He pauses and then says, “Why did my mother visit you? Did she say?”

  “She came to apologize for last night,” I say.

  “My mother?” He barks a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “My mother has never apologized to anyone in her life.”

  “I find that rather hard to believe,” I say.

  He glares at me, making me feel uncomfortable. “Believe what you want, but it’s the goddam truth. Let’s get to the next point. Your work.”

  “You disapprove?” I can’t resist smirking.

  “When you’re single again, you can do as you please. While you’re married to me, yes, I do disapprove. I want to keep my family name free from such smut,” Michael says.

  “Smut? Ha! You didn’t seem to care about that when you were frequenting the Black Chapel,” I say. He’s so two-faced.

  “It was my first time in a strip club, and I only went there one time because my buddy dragged me there for my birthday,” Michael says.

  I don’t believe him. “Well, so why did you return then?”

  “Because of you, Scarlett.” His eyes are sincere yet accusing, and I feel them penetrating my very being.

  I’m dumbfounded. Because of me? He came back only for me?

  He points his finger at me and stands up. “But you, on the other hand, you do that kind of work for a living! I can’t believe you lied to me about it Scarlett!”

  “I only started working there because if I hadn’t, I’d lose my family’s house, the very house my father built with his own hands, the very house I was born in, and because my dad was diagnosed with cancer and I needed to find a way to afford his chemo so his life would be spared!” I take a deep breath. “And I didn’t tell you about my job because I was afraid you’d pull the deal.” I am furious. Michael has judged me so harshly.

  His hands hit his hips. “For your information, I think I would have gotten over you working at a strip club for a few months. What I can’t get over is that you blatantly lied to me.”

  “Oh, is your ego bruised because I actually found out you were cheating on me?” I say.

  “I can’t cheat on you with you. And no, I’m not upset by that, I’m upset because you were dishonest with me.” He huffs.

  “And you, were you so all honest Abe all the time? I don’t think so. And I doubt you’d ever really understand what drove me to take the job. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” I say.

  “You have no idea what my life has been like.” He walks away, his hands reach for his temple. He’s more than fuming mad.

  I realize that I don’t know what his life has been like. I, too, have judged him very harshly. I make myself come down off of the rage mountain and I calm down. “I’m sorry.” I look down at my hands again. My voice is soft.

  Michael turns around. “Are we clear on the boundaries?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Good. I’ll have a truck come get your stuff later today. I’ll inform my family we decided to elope because of what my mother did to you, to us. They’ll understand. We’ll have to figure the rest out as we go. I’ll trust you to keep your end of the deal, and you trust me to keep my end of the deal.”

  I nod, but can’t get myself to look at him.

  I hear the door slam behind him, and then I collapse onto the table, sobbing.

  31

  The U-Haul truck is there by 4:00 p.m. I haven’t packed too much stuff, and I’ve decided to leave all of my furniture behind. No use in moving a bunch of stuff when I’ll be moving it back in a few weeks anyway. If Michael doesn’t like it, too bad for him.

  Once I get to Michael’s, the entire staff greets me. They have all lined up in the hallway, looking attentive and neat. They will answer to me now. It feels strange. I’ve never really been one to give orders to someone else; this is going to take some getting used to. I feel like a princess, but a fraudulent one at that, when I pass each servant and they curtsy or bow to me. Michael is nowhere to be seen.

  When I get to my room, a young blond servant with a bob follows me. “My name is Lucy, Mrs. Manning. I’ll be your personal assistant. Mr. Manning told me to tell you that you may ask me for anything day or night, and I’ll be happy to get it or you.” Her accent is faintly British, and her posture, and the way she moves, that of a ballerina.

  “Thank you Lucy. You can call me Scarlett, if you’ d like.”

  “Oh, I think Mr. Manning would prefer I didn’t. But if you insist, then I will.” Lucy smiles.

  “I insist,” I say and smile.

  “Then Scarlett it is!” Her barely-there eyebrows rise.

  She walks me to the master bedroom suite. “Anything I can get for you while I’m here?”

  “No. I think I might just rest for a while,” I say.

  “Perfect. Dinner is at 7:00 p.m. sharp. Mr. Manning had the cook prepare his favorite meal in your honor,” Lucy says.

  I should probably know what that is, but I don’t. Lucy must have seen my confused expression.

  “Oh, filet mignon, with potatoes and asparagus,” she says.

  Just like on our first date. “Should I be dressed in anything particular?”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Follow me, please.”

  I follow Lucy to a huge walk-in closet.

  “These have been picked out for you by Mr. Manning’s stylist. They should all be in your size,” Lucy says.

  There are literally hundreds, maybe even thousands of garments in the walk-in closet. And there are also tons of shoes and a lingerie drawer stocked with all kinds of frilly and exotic outfits. Outfits we won’t be using at all. Well, unless I try to—then a thought comes to mind. No harm in trying to seduce my own husband, is there? I mean, I might as well try since I’m already here. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He’ll reject me. But he’s already rejected me, so I wouldn’t be any worse off than I am now if I fail. I smile and lick my lips.

  “Dinner is always dressy-casual, unless otherwise noted. See you at half past six. I’ll come help you dress,” Lucy says, and then she’s off.

  So this is where I’ll be living for the next however many weeks until my—pseudo mother-in-law dies. The room is as lovely as I remember, but it feels so foreign and stuffy. I miss my parents’ couch, the TV, my bed, the old wo
rn-down wooden floors and creaky stairs.

  I’m exhausted and decide to hop into the Jacuzzi/bathtub. There are about twenty different bath oils to choose from in the cabinet. I pick one called Gardenia, and soon I’m relaxing in a hot bath. I wonder where Michael is, but distract myself by scrubbing my skin nearly raw with a loofa brush. Once I’m done, it’s half past six and Lucy shows up.

  I’m wearing a black silk robe and my hair is up in a towel-turban. I select an outfit. “I think I’ll wear this. What do you think?”

  Lucy smiles her polite smile. “I think Mr. Manning will like that outfit very much.”

  It’s a deep black V-cut tank top with sequence and to go with it I have chosen black leather pants. I try on a few pairs of shoes and decide on the strappy, rhinestone bedazzled ones.

  Lucy walks with me downstairs, and I’m so glad I have her. She’s like an old lost friend.

  Michael is waiting for me at the dinner table.

  “Only us?” I say, as I enter.

  He does a double take on me, and rises to greet me. “Yes.” Then he kisses me on the cheek and we both sit down. I hope he notices my cleavage, and my ass in these tight leather pants. I hope leather is his thing.

  “How is your moving in coming along?” he asks, picking up a newspaper.

  I’m keenly aware that his staff is listening all along. This is all for show, the kiss, the questions, the decorum. “Wonderful. Lucy has been so helpful. I took a bath and it felt great. I wish you would have joined me, babe.” I know he’ll be thinking of my wet, silky skin.

  He clears his throat but doesn’t look up from his paper. “Maybe next time, Dear.”

  Dear? I huff. I wonder if he said dear just to annoy me. There is no appetizer, only dinner and it is served immediately. We eat mostly in silence.

  “So what should we do tomorrow?” I ask, propping my elbow onto the table, resting my chin in the palm of my hand.

  “Tomorrow I work, so I won’t be able to join you,” Michael says.

  Just then I realize we haven’t discussed what to do for our honeymoon. “Any news on when you can take me on that honeymoon you promised, babe?” I smirk.