“Dean.” Frank snapped his chair forward. “Seriously. If she came home and asked you to be the one to marry her. Would you?”
Dean laughed, then Dean laughed harder. “For as much as I love her, for as much as I would love to have that to hold over your head, Frank. Probably not. Not now. She’s too ... I don’t know. Out there?” Dean shrugged.
Frank nodded in agreement. “Most of the time. Yeah. Hey, at least she looks good in the dress Andrea was supposed to wear.”
“It’s hard to appreciate it, Frank,” Dean said. “You weren’t there. It was a grueling, grueling process her getting to the point of what she looks like now.” He flicked his hand as he leaned to the table. “It started this morning. No wait, it started in the middle if the night. She bitched at me for hogging the bed. Then she gets up this morning bitching because she’s gonna look horrible because she didn’t get a good night sleep. Then I took too long in the shower. I used up all the hot water. I wouldn’t wear a tie. I aggravated extra wrinkles on her face. Her hair was too tight, her hair was too loose. How her hair not being right is my fault, I’ll never know.”
“Dean.” Frank smirked. “Haven’t you learned yet what to do when Ellen bitches. She has bitched about anything and everything since the day I met her. You gotta just say, ‘all right, El, whatever’ and move on.”
“No,” Dean argued. “No way. That’s giving in. I won’t give in to her bitching.”
“Yeah but learning how to pacify her is the path of least resistance, it doesn’t aggravate you as much. Trust me,” Frank explained. “Ask Henry. Henry, what did you do when Ellen bitched at you?”
Henry looked up from his sulking stature. “She never bitched at me, Frank. Not like she does to you and Dean.”
At that instant, Dean cleared his throat loudly to gather their attention to the fact that Ellen was approaching the table.
“Frank,” Ellen spoke his name with a sharp whine. “You have to tell your brother, he’s threatening to disappear before the bridal dance. Talk to him.”
“I’ll do that,” Frank said.
“And ...” Ellen continued. “You have to do the speech now. The SUTs are getting ready to call everyone to the buffet. Come on.” She held out her hand to him. “And Dean, Aw, Dean come on. What did you spill on your tie. We just got here.”
Dean looked down and lifted up his tie. “Where?”
“There.” She pointed.
“Ellen, there isn’t anything there,” Dean stated.
“Of course you wouldn’t see it, Dean, you didn’t see the fact that your tie was wrinkled. One event. I let you wear jeans you should have at least kept your tie clean.”
“Ellen,” Dean snapped. “There’s nothing on my tie.”
Ellen huffed and grabbed Frank’s hand. “And, Frank. You can’t unbutton your vest. Not yet. It’s not right.”
“OK.” Frank shrugged and buttoned his vest. “Dean said it was all right. Sorry, El.”
“Dean!” Ellen shook her head and rolled her eyes then leaned closer to him. “Why would you tell him that?”
Dean stared at her for a second, then shifted his eyes to her, and Frank, who looked back at Dean while wiggling his fingers in an arrogant wave. Dean huffed outward. “And you asked why I wouldn’t marry her. I’m a target. You. Frank, can have that side of her.”
<><><><>
Frank held the glass of water in one hand, and the microphone in the other. He debated on whether to sing just to annoy everyone, but he decided instead, to give the speech he hadn’t a clue on what to say. “All right ... so my father says to me,” Frank spoke loud. “He says last night, ‘Christ, Frank. I gotta get married.’. Not that he didn’t want to marry Andrea, I don’t know if he did, I guess he did, he was sleeping with her. Anyhow, he tells me I have to be the best man. Which I figured I would be because why would he want Robbie. But then I found out I had to give a speech ... OK, I could do that. So here it goes. Dad, I hope you make this one work. And I think you will as long as you don’t make the same mistakes you made in your other three marriages.” Frank held his glass to Andrea. “And you, Andrea, I’ve known you for a lot of years. And I know you’re this superstitious lady, so don’t think it’s a bad sign that it’s raining out. It might be, but probably not. So good luck to both of you and uh ... happy marriage or something like that.” He raised his glass. and there was silence. “Come on!” He yelled at the people. “That was the toast.” Listening to the muttering of voices as they raised their glasses in good luck, Frank checked out the evil stares he got from his father. “What? The speech was nice.” Waving his father off, Frank took his seat next to Ellen. “El? How was my speech.”
“I thought it was great, Frank.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I thought it was very Frank-like.”
“Thanks, El.” Frank smiled, not once picking up any of the sarcasm in her facial expressions or tone.
<><><><>
It was a party destined to move on through the night. Not because it was the best party ever, Beginnings had seen better, but because it was a party and in Beginnings, it also was something to do. The faces changed during the night, Security kept making post changes so everyone could be there. Everyone seemed happy. Jenny Matoose proudly danced with Blake while John was on his watch. The children that weren’t sleeping, ran amongst the adult legs, some sliding on the floor. Joey being the biggest culprit. And the older people, they found entertainment watching the children play. Especially Brian and Jenny’s baby, Caroline. The two, one-year-old children, both kept in their walkers, continued in a fevered game of bumper walkers.
With his hand held tight to Ellen’s, Dean danced with her. “You know I have to go.”
“I know. But I just really like dancing with you. My neck never hurts.”
“Gee thanks, Ellen.” Dean smiled. “And I’d love to dance with you more. But I promised Patrick I would relieve him at the clinic so he can enjoy some time here. Besides I wanna run a few more tests on our John Doe.”
“Let me know what you find?” Ellen asked.
“Of course.” Dean turned his wrist to see the time. “And I’m already late.”
“Do you need help with the kids?”
“No, Denny coming to help. Henry’s bringing Nick to the house. It’ll be crowded, but fine. I won’t be at the clinic too long. Melissa has next shift.”
“Are you coming back here?”
“Doubtful. I’m not the party person, besides it’s already pushing my bedtime.” He released her from the dance. “And ...” He kissed her quickly. “I have to go. Have fun.” He laid his hand on her cheek. “You looked great tonight.”
“Thank you.” Ellen smiled at him, watched Dean dart off to gather the kids and she went off to find Robbie. A fast song was playing and he was the only man who danced well enough—other than Henry—That didn’t embarrass her on the dance floor.
<><><><>
Frank danced with who he called ‘his favorite girl’. He held her tight in his arm, swinging her around, making her laugh. Really enjoying the dance and getting more out of her smile than any words that could be spoken. This to Frank was what it was all about. Life going on. It was a rare moment in Beginnings, an old fashion wedding, equipped with the songs from the past. And it would be a moment on the dance floor he would treasure forever.
Dean hated to interrupt, but he had to go. He had the kids rustled by the door, Denny and Henry standing there waiting. “Frank. She has to come with me.”
“We’re finishing our dance, Dean.”
“But I really have to go, Frank.”
“I’ll walk her home as soon as we’re done.”
“All right.” Dean stepped back. “But don’t play outside in the rain with her.”
“I won’t.” Frank winked at Alex and adjusted her in his arms. “Bye, Dean.”
Dean kissed his daughter, then joined Henry, Denny, and the kids who waited by the door.
“Do you spin Mommy around like this when you danc
e with her?” Alexandra asked.
“Nah. Let me let you in on a little secret. Mommy is in that awkward phase. She too big for me to hold up and dance with her like this. Not that I wouldn’t. But she’s too little for me to dance with for a long time.”
“Why is that?” Alexandra asked with child curiosity.
“She makes my neck hurt.”
Ellen leaned against the head table watching Frank and Alexandra, she had a very small amount of Henry’s wine in the glass she sipped from. Little sips, almost feeling guilty on Frank’s behalf for every sip she took.
“Hey, Kiddo.” Joe frightened her from her thoughts when he approached her. “Watching them?”
“Yeah.” Ellen smiled. “For the big tough guy, Frank is so, I don’t know, sappy when it comes to the kids.”
“He’ll always have a soft spot for his daughter.”
“I remember being a little girl and dancing with my father like that at my aunt Vivian’s wedding.” Ellen smiled at the memory. “I felt so important. My father wanted to dance with me. And by the look on my daughter’s face. She feels the same way right now that I did.”
“Well I wasn’t fortunate enough to have a little girl to dance with in my arms. However ...” Joe stepped back and showed Ellen his hand. “I would like to be so fortunate as to have my grown up girl in my arms.”
“Oh, Joe.” Ellen basked in that, letting Joe cup her hand, press his strong hand to her back, his cheek to her cheek, and having him dance with her in that old fashion way. Leading Ellen in steps she tried to follow in that slow dance. And Ellen giggled, like Alexandra did, in every spin Joe made with her. “Joe?” she whispered to him.
“Yes?” Joe pulled his head back to look at her.
“You know how I was saying about how I felt as a little girl, and how Alexandra is probably feeling the same way?”
“What about it?” Joe asked.
“I just wanted you to know. That no matter how old you get, having that dance with your father ... it still makes you feel important.”
Giving Ellen that smile of ‘pride’ that only a father could give, Joe kissed Ellen on the cheek and pulled her back to finish their dance.
Robbie looked up from his seat at the table in just enough time to see Joe twirl Ellen around, his mind slipped back to a wedding he remembered. Robbie was five years old. Of course Robbie chuckled right there because most of the visuals of that wedding were of people’s legs. But he remembered that wedding, whose it was, Robbie couldn’t recall. But seeing Joe and Ellen dance on that floor made Robbie think of the bride dancing with her father that night. ‘Daddy’s little girl’ played loudly, women had tears in their eyes. The father and the bride both cried. The whole hall stopped for that one dance. And Robbie remembered—though he was only five or six—he remembered making a promise to himself that night. He promised himself that if he ever had a daughter, and she got married, that he would never look so foolish as to cry in front of all his co-workers like that father did that night. And part of Robbie still felt the same way. In his adult mind he justified his thinking. The father going back to work that Monday morning. Having left Friday being the tough boss, he returned Monday being the big baby who cried his heart out all because his daughter was marrying some jerk whom she would leave in a year or so anyhow. Then that father would end up bitching because not only did he have his daughter back at his house but her baby as well, sucking him dry of all his money, sponging off of him all because the guy he cried about his daughter marrying, was refusing to pay his child support. Perhaps those tears shed during that dance weren’t tears of joy, or tears of losing a daughter, but tears of all the problems that the results of a wedding he couldn’t afford in the first place, brought.
Mid thought, Robbie was certain that somewhere in his deep world of wedding bell blues, his mind has snapped, because suddenly the song started sounding weird to him. The words became muttered, making no sense. The male voice sounded female and this snapped Robbie out of his thought and prompted him to look to his right. Andrea sat next to him humming. “What?” he asked her.
“I have a favor.”
“Oh no. What is it?” Robbie asked frightened.
“Would you be so kind as to dance with an old woman?”
“Andrea, I really don’t feel like dancing with you right now. Maybe later.”
Smack! Andrea’s hand hit hard against his.
“What?” Robbie asked.
“I’m not speaking of me. I would like you to dance with ...” Andrea twitched her head.
Leaning forward Robbie saw who she indicated to. Had she not been so little, she wouldn’t have been hidden behind Andrea. “Josephine? No way.”
“Robert,” Andrea scolded. “Dance with her. I promised her.”
“Why would you promise her I would dance with her?”
“Because you’re my son now. Dance with Josephine. No one wants to.”
“Tell her to dance with Cole, he’s sleeping with her.”
Andrea gasped. “Robert.” She stood up. “If you don’t dance with Josephine right now, I will tell your father on you. And you won’t be the little happy camper when he takes a firm stand with you tomorrow morning.”
“Like I care.”
“Be nice.”
“I’m a Slagel.”
“And so am I now.” Andrea’s head bobbed back and forth. “And let me tell you something. You will dance with her right now, mister. If you don’t I will make certain that your pretty little face blesses the monthly ‘Dart the Fart’ board. Get it.”
“Oh my God. All right.” Robbie stood up whining. “Only because I don’t want to see a sketch of myself with holes all in it. Let me take a drink and I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll go tell her.”
“And also tell her not to grab my butt again.” Robbie pointed, cringed at what he agreed to do and downed his entire drink in one gulp.
<><><><>
It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable wedding traditions that the women copied. The tossing of the bouquet. Of course there were only two women in all of Beginnings who weren’t married. Josephine and Ellen. And the evening was highlighted when Ellen caught the bouquet and Josephine in her outrage and determination to retrieve it, pummeled sideways into Ellen knocking her on the floor and then lunging at Ellen to engage in a fierce tug of war over the floppy group of flowers. I took two men to pull Josephine from her. But it wasn’t the fight that got Ellen, nor the fact that Josephine, during her pull at the flowers kept calling Ellen a ‘bitch’. It was the fact that Ellen had to go to the ladies room and fix her hair back again.
Then after Frank placed on the garter, she had to fix her dress.
Standing and talking to Joe, Frank felt the smack to the back of his head. “Ow.” He turned around Ellen stood there.
“Thanks a lot, Frank. Talk about embarrassing me.”
“I didn’t want those guys to see your legs.”
“So you stick your head between them?”
Frank laughed. “You love me.” He pulled her into him. “And I would like to dance with you.”
“I’ve been dancing all night.”
“But not with me so ... Tough, you’ll dance now.” Frank cupped her hand. “This turned out really nice. You ladies did a great job.”
“Thanks.” Ellen went silent for a second. “Frank, I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that.”
“I feel bad. I ... I had a couple sips of wine.”
“So.”
“No.” Ellen shook her head. “Not ‘so’. I’m supposed to help you. That wasn’t helping you.”
“El, I don’t expect you to change your lifestyle, just because I changed mine.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Ellen moved into him. “But I want to. I have to. Especially if I’m going to be with you.”
“Are you?” Frank asked very seriously.
“What did I tell you?”
“Ellen.” Frank stopped mo
ving in their dance. “What you did for me this past week, I’ll never forget it. Never. I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to you.”
“How about now?” Ellen tugged him into her.
“See, just about now.” Frank lowered his head to her ear. “Just about right now ...” he whispered. “Is about the time I want to sneak you out of here and take you home.”
“And do what?” Ellen asked, getting lost in his soft voice.
“Make ... love ...” Frank pressed his lips teasingly to her ear. “To you.”
Ellen’s eyes rolled back. “Kiss me.”
Frank slid his lips across her cheek and to her mouth, then stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
Frank looked around. They really weren’t noticed. Everyone was doing their own thing. “I know this isn’t about us. But ... I have something to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
Frank breathed almost nervously, released her hand and then reached into his pocket. After a moment, eyes connected with Ellen, he rejoined their hands in a dance.
Ellen stopped when she felt the oddness of it. She pulled her hand from Frank, and brought it up to her view. She looked at her hand, then to Frank. “Frank,” she spoke out of breath, looking again her finger. The finger that moments earlier, was bare now wore the wedding band she had given back to Frank nearly a year before.
“El.” Frank held her hand. “All those years behind us, all those years, El, they can be nothing compared to the years we could have ahead of us. We’ve messed up. We’ve broke. But no one has ever stood by my side like you. I want you there for the rest of my life. I need you there. And if I’m gonna be holding hands with you at eighty years old, then I want the hand I hold to be my wife’s.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Be my wife again, El. Say you’ll be my wife again. Say we’ve learned from our mistakes.” His hand spread across her. “Say you’ll marry me again.” Frank’s nose brushed against hers, his mouth was open in a hover over hers. “Say yes.”
Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8 Page 57
