Seasons of Her Life (25 page)

Ruby bathed, dressed, walked, talked, and she even smiled and giggled when it was called for. Only Rena seemed aware that anything was wrong, but tactfully, she said nothing. From time to time she patted Ruby on the arm or shoulder in a maternal way.

Outside the rectory, Ruby's and Andrew's guests threw rice as they burst into a lusty, off-key rendition of the “Marine Hymn.” Ruby smiled and ducked her head the way all new brides do to avoid the pelting rice. Andrew laughed uproariously. Bruno snapped his pictures as Ruby kept smiling.

Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Blue posed for what Bruno said was the picture they should enlarge and call their official wedding photo.

 

“Let the champagne flow!” Bruno then ordered as he uncorked one of the two bottles his thrifty wife had provided. He himself had bought four more, just in case. Besides, he knew Rena would find a way to pay for it without upsetting their budget. This was a party, and he loved parties.

Andrew danced and flirted with all the girls right under Ruby's nose. Ruby, in turn, danced with Bruno until she was dizzy. The finger foods were devoured, the cake sliced and eaten, the presents opened, and the champagne bottles emptied.

Rena pronounced the reception over at seven o'clock.

“Line up, ladies, so Ruby can throw her bouquet,” she ordered briskly as she took her place in the line with the laughing, giggling girls. It was no surprise to anyone when she jumped the highest and outmaneuvered the girls to catch the limp bouquet of white roses. “I guess this means I will divorce Bruno and remarry,” she chortled. “What do you think of that, Andrew?” she asked coyly.

“I don't believe in divorce,” Andrew said curtly.

“That's a pity,” Rena said blandly. “How does Ruby feel about it?”

Andrew had to admit he didn't know. Ruby was true blue, for better or worse, he thought. He shrugged.

“Ah, I think, Andrew, that it might behoove you to find that out. Why do I have the feeling you don't know too much about our little Ruby?”

“I know enough,” Andrew said, irritated at the conversation.

“In a marriage, Lieutenant, one cannot assume nor can one presume. Remember, I am the one who said this to you. Now,” she said, clapping her hands, her dozen or so bracelets tinkling merrily, “how did you like your wedding? I myself think it was wonderful.”

“Yes, it was wonderful and Ruby and I both thank you. We'll always remember what you've done for us.”

Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Blue waved good-bye to their guests as they stepped into a waiting taxi that would take them to the honeymoon suite Andrew had engaged at the Ambassador hotel, where they would share a honeymoon supper before they embarked on the intimacy their marriage license said was now proper.

In the taxi Andrew held Ruby's hand and nuzzled her neck. She blushed furiously. “I can do this, I can do anything to you I want; we're married now,” Andrew whispered in her ear.

Ruby smiled and whispered back, “Only if I allow it.”

Andrew reared back, his eyes suddenly suspicious. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Ruby smiled again. “It means I'm a person, not a thing. We might be married, but you don't own me. Don't ever forget that, Andrew.”

Rena's words ricocheted in Andrew's ears. There was more to this new bride of his than he suspected. Much more. He had to defend the silly amorous statement he'd just made. “Look, I didn't mean ... you took it ... the wrong way. We're married, we can do whatever we want now.”

“We, Andrew. You and I. Two people. That means we both have to agree on things. Do you understand?”

“What I think is we should continue this discussion at the hotel.”

Ruby smiled and nodded, but there was something about her smile that didn't sit right with Andrew.

“What's wrong, Ruby? I know something's bothering you. Last night you were fine. Today ... today you're different. Do you think we made a mistake? You can tell me. Maybe if we talk about it, whatever it is won't seem so bad.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know it showed. I tried ... I didn't want it to interfere with our wedding. It's a family thing, I had a letter from Amber today, that's all. I apologize.” She squeezed his arm and placed her head on his shoulder.

“That's better,” Andrew said, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh.

 

“We're here!” Andrew said suddenly.

Ruby sat up straight, her half-closed eyes popping open and into awareness. Already? In another few minutes, or as soon as Andrew registered and their bags were taken to the room, she would be alone with her new husband in the honeymoon suite. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

The moment the door closed behind the bellboy, Andrew drew Ruby close to him and leered at her. “Should we wait for dinner or ... go to bed now?”

“Didn't . . . I thought you said you ordered dinner. I'm hungry. I was so jittery back at the house, I didn't eat anything. I didn't see you eat anything, either.” God, was that desperate sound in her voice real?

“You're nervous, aren't you?” Andrew said calmly.

Why shouldn't he sound calm? Ruby wondered. He did this all the time; he had years of experience while she was ... new and inexperienced.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I'm very nervous, and I'm not ready ... I'm really not ready for ...
that
... yet,” she said in a voice so loud, her words bounced off the walls.

“Okay, I can handle that. Let's call down for dinner, and while they're getting it ready, we can unpack and drink some of this wine that came with the room. We can sit and talk. Did I tell you how pretty you looked? You look pretty now, too, but when you came out in that fancy dress, I almost keeled over. Bet that little number set you back a pretty penny, huh?”

“Yep, it wiped out my bank account.” Ruby giggled.

“Listen, when you get around to having the pictures developed, I want one for my desk at work and one for my wallet. You're going to get that one outside the church blown up for our apartment, aren't you?”

Ruby was touched. She nodded. Somehow it was the last thing she'd expected Andrew to say. “I wish Nola could have been at the wedding,” Ruby said wistfully.

“Listen, Ruby, I'm sorry as hell about that business with the quilt. I didn't understand. But how do you expect me to understand if you don't confide and share with me? You go getting hopping mad, and I don't even know what it's all about. You might not believe me, but I'm just as sentimental as the next guy.”

“Andrew?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn't carry me over the threshold.”

For a moment he looked crestfallen. “I didn't forget,” he finally said, his voice injured-sounding. “This is a hotel, not where we're going to live. This doesn't count, Ruby. For God's sake, do you think I'd forget something that important?”

It sounded good, Ruby decided. And he looked sincere. But he also looked quite miserable. “Well, I would have preferred you to do it here,” Ruby said, speaking her mind. “It's all right, it's too late now.”

“Oh, shit, Ruby, are you going to let this spoil our evening?” Andrew asked in the same injured tone.

“No.”

“No? That's it?”

“You asked me a question and I answered it. Do you want a litany or what?” Ruby asked testily, but then she dropped to her knees to feel the thick, dove-gray carpet. She
was
spoiling the evening, and that she did not want to do.

“I never saw a carpet like this. It's so deep and springy.” She kicked off her shoes and giggled. “This is wonderful. Everything is so pretty. I guess the honeymoon suite is special, huh?”

“I paid enough for this damn room, it better be special,” Andrew muttered under his breath.

Ruby looked around the room. It
was
stunning. Satin bedspread done in shades of mauve and pearl-gray, one shade lighter than the carpet; mauve drapes; two chairs covered in a nubby material that matched the streaky pattern of the spread and drapes but were boldly striped; a dresser made of a light wood; a huge mirror, directly in line with the double bed. Ruby's eyes widened in alarm. She could see Andrew's reflection in the mirror as he watched her. She whirled around, a smile on her face, the same strained smile she'd worn all day.

She peered down at the shiny black telephone without the circle of numbers she was used to. Andrew picked up the receiver and made the final arrangements for their wedding supper.

“What say we have our own private toast?” he said when he had hung up. “The ones back at your landlady's didn't count. We're alone now.” He uncorked the bottle with ease. Bruno had struggled and struggled and somehow pushed the cork down into the champagne bottle. She'd seen the shock of disgust on Andrew's face. She wondered if he always did everything so perfectly. The thought annoyed her, but the smile stayed on her face.

“To us!”

Ruby drank the bubbly in a gulp and held out her glass for a refill. Andrew's eyes widened in surprise. “I think you're supposed to sip it,” he murmured.

“Why?” Ruby drained the second glass. “Who said so?”

“Well . . . I ... if it's a good champagne, you're suppose to savor it. How the hell should I know who said it? Some wine connoisseur, I suppose.”

“If you don't know for certain, you shouldn't say anything. It sounds like you don't like the way I drink wine,” Ruby said, enunciating each word carefully. “I like to drink it all at one time. I taste it that way. I guess marines don't know everything after all.”

Andrew looked as though he'd been stepped on. “I never said I know everything,” he said huffily.

This time Ruby filled her own glass, but she didn't drink it right away. She wondered if her eyes were as glassy as they felt. Apparently, one shouldn't drink champagne on an empty stomach. She watched her husband shift from one foot to the other uneasily. She pointed to the chair across from her. Andrew plopped down, his gaze narrowing as he finished his wine in one swallow.

“Tell me about our new apartment. Is it nice? Did you meet the neighbors? What kind of furniture did you get? How many rooms does it have?”

“Wouldn't you rather wait and see it? I don't know anything about decorating. There's furniture and stuff. It has three rooms and a bathroom, and a fourth room that's too small for anything but storage.”

“We don't have anything to store,” Ruby said.

Exasperated, Andrew threw his hands in the air. “Then we'll leave it empty. Does it matter, Ruby?”

Ruby drained her glass. “It matters if we're paying for a room we don't need. Or didn't you think about that? I thought marines were smart.”

“Do you have something against marines all of a sudden? I don't get it.”

Ruby ignored his question. “We should have music. Why didn't you think of that, Andrew? So far, this isn't”—she waved the towel about—“very romantic. You aren't really romantic, are you? Music would have been nice.”

“That's it, Ruby, I've had it!” Andrew blustered. “This is our goddamn wedding night, and so far all you've done is drink and pick me apart. If you think you made a mistake marrying me, I can take you back to Monroe Street right now. Make up your damn mind.”

Ruby made an effort to straighten her shoulders. “I-made-a-commitment-and-I'm-a-Catholic! I-don't-know-if-I-made-a-mistake-or-not. It's-too-late-now. It's-too-late! Toolatetoolate-toolatetoolatetoolate.”

Andrew looked as if he wanted to shake the living hell out of his wife, but the waiter knocked on the door with their wedding supper. He seethed and fumed as the man set out dishes and napkins and twirled the second champagne bottle in a chilled bucket filled with shaved ice. His tasks finished, he discreetly withdrew, closing the door quietly behind him.

Food, Ruby thought sickly. She was reminded of home as she weaved her way to the table.

“I'll serve,” Andrew said briskly.

He ladled out glazed carrots, tiny green peas, and small white potatoes garnished with little green speckles of mint. The two pink succulent slices of prime rib were thin and delectable. He buttered a roll and presented it to Ruby with a flourish.

As Andrew was about to seat himself, Ruby wagged her finger playfully. “Didn't you forget something, Andrew?” She held her wineglass aloft.

“You've had enough,” Andrew said testily.

Ruby continued to hold her glass under his nose. “That may be true, but I still want more. On the other hand, maybe you haven't had enough. You don't really care, now, do you? I certainly don't. So, if you don't really care and I don't care, will you pour the damn wine and let me enjoy my wedding supper? I hope you aren't going to turn into one of those husbands who spoils everything. I've had enough of that in my life. I think you should know that,” Ruby muttered as her husband sloshed wine into her glass, which she immediately drank. She asked for a refill.

Andrew sat down and proceeded to jab and stab the food on his plate. Ruby tried to pierce a carrot with her heavy silver fork, but after missing several times, she dropped the fork and picked up a soup spoon. She giggled when she saw the appalled look on her husband's face.

“I should take your picture right now, I really should,” Andrew said sourly. “How's this going to look to our children someday?”

“Someday is a long time away. I'll tell them the truth. What will you tell them, Andrew?”

“What are you talking about?” Andrew asked irritably.

Ruby tried to widen her eyes, but they kept drooping. “Truth is truth. Isn't that what the Marines Corps is all about? Honor, justice, semper ... whatever ... I'm going to be sick . . .” she muttered, lurching off her chair.