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Every little girl dreams of a beautiful church wedding. Her gown would be the same one her mother wore, saved for her special day, gorgeous flowing white lace. All her family and friends in attendance as she and her prince charming exchange promises to love each other forever. The ring he’s bought for her is carefully placed on her finger with hands that shake slightly. Maybe he fumbles in his nervousness and almost drops it. She adores him so she laughs breathlessly at his clumsiness. They vow to love each other until death parts them. Their union is thus sealed before God, and they ride off into the sunset in a shower of rice.
She wore a plain cream colored dress and carried a simple bouquet. The Justice of the Peace was tucked away inside a nondescript building, just another of the many in New York. The only witness was a friend of the groom, and there was no guarantee God was anywhere in the vicinity. She had her Prince though, and it was the only thing that mattered. She slid a sideways glance at him. He looked excited, nervous as they awaited their turn to be married. He was handsome as always in his perfectly pressed, expensive suit. He caught her looking and smiled at her; they shared a moment of private laughter, feeling as giddy as two teens eloping.
It felt like her blood was made of champagne, bubbling inside her as her own excitement threatened to spill over. The new, glorious life they would have together was ahead of them, an eternity of unimagined delights. After tonight, even her blood would be changed. Her blood would be in him and his in her, and they would be bound together forever in a way even God couldn’t outdo. She was ready.
And then it was their turn, and moments later the words pronounced them husband and wife.
XXX
The single piece of paper fluttered slightly as it was laid down in front of him on the desk. He glanced at it briefly, didn’t have to look closer to recognize the words of the document. He knew them by heart.
“Why didn’t you tell someone?”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. What would be the point?”
“She was your wife.” A look passed between the two, significant, speaking of unlikely things shared.
He nodded. “And now she’s not.” He watched as the different emotions passed over the other’s features, reading every one of them clearly. He calmly allowed the sympathy, marveling at how far he’d come in such a short time.
“I thought you’d changed your mind about secrets?” was the predictable response.
He waved a hand in the air vaguely, dismissively. “It’s a matter of public record, it’s hardly a secret.
Helplessness was reflected in the expression regarding him next, the one people get when they’re feeling badly for you and want to do something, but have no idea what.
He put them both out of their misery and gestured to the paper. “Do you think this makes it hurt more? It’s just a piece of paper.”
A shaking of head told him his unaffected response hadn’t been believed. “She was your wife.”
He abruptly stood up, tired and thinking longingly of his freezer. “And she’s been dead for a long time. Hell, so have I, for that matter,” he added wryly. “She’s just flying high with the angels while I’m down here in the mud with the humans.”
“You believe that?” his visitor said, clearly surprised at the religious overtones of his response.
“Doesn’t matter what I believe,” he responded flippantly, letting a smile stretch his lips. “Maybe I’ll never find out firsthand.”
“Never is a long time.”
“And so is forever,” he countered. “But this,” he gestured to the paper again, “is till death do us part.”
“I’m sorry.” A lame offer of condolence for a situation that no words could adequately do justice to.
“Do you know what Alexander Graham Bell said?” he inquired, putting an arm around his visitor and leading the way to the door. He would see the cool relief of his freezer before the hour was out. “Did I ever tell you I met him? He was living in Edinburgh then. I knew his invention was going to be big when I heard about it. Made a bundle on it. That’s how you play to win – be open to opportunities when you see them ahead of you, and don’t let past regret poison your present.”
“What did Alexander Graham Bell say?” the amused voice tried to bring him back on topic.
The light was flipped off and the door closed behind them, the Certificate of Marriage remaining behind as the only witness left to the joining of Charles Fitzgerald and Sarah Whitley in holy matrimony.
When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.
Alexander Graham Bell
2/28/09