After Forever Ends (21 page)

“I look like I’m heading for class, really.”

“No, because your buttons are done and the shirt’s tucked in and your tie’s on right,” She said seriously, “And you combed your hair. You don’t do that at school. At school you look like you just rolled out of bed. I think you look very put together. I am sorry if I sounded like I didn’t want to be here. It’s just this is very fast and you’re still in school. I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“It’s all right,” Oliver told her as we entered town once again. “It’s forgotten. We’re glad you’re here.” I saw him eyeing his brother in the rear view mirror again, making sure he was behaving. Alexander was staring out the window.

After a bit more driving, we located the local magistrate and Oliver banged on the door. “We’d like to get married, Sir,” He said with his usual grin when the old man answered, “Today, right now if it’s possible.”

“How old are you?” The magistrate peered at us over his spectacles.

“Both seventeen, Sir,” Oliver told him.

“Legal then, I suppose. You look young, though. I’d have said sixteen at most.” He looked at me up and down like he was still trying to guess my age, “Baby faces. Humph. Do you have written permission from both of your parents?”

I froze. Written permission from my parents? I had had no idea that we needed that. I looked at Oliver in horror, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“Yes, Sir,” Alexander answered smoothly, “They do. I have the letters with me.”

He produced two documents he’d been holding in his jacket pocket since we got to the door. I had been too excited and distracted to ask what they were. The constable took them and looked them over carefully. He eyed Alexander with a look of deep mistrust and then turned his attention back to Oliver. “Is there a reason why your parents are not present?”

“Silvia’s mother’s passed,” Oliver answered without hesitation, “And her father takes very little interest in her life. He lives in Denbighshire and saw no importance in making the trip. My parents are not all pleased about us being married, but they consented because they know they can’t stop us, Sir. It’s either this or we continue to commit carnal sins for nineteen days until Sil’s birthday and we’re both eighteen and get married anyway. Sil will be showing by then. My parents signed the documents and opted to pray for us instead of attending.”

I almost laughed out loud.

The magistrate blinked. “And do you have proper identification?”

“We do.”

“Let’s see it.”

Oliver reached into his pocket and produced a driver’s license. I stood there like an idiot. “Sil,” He told me quietly, “Give him your ID.”

“Oh!” I snapped open my purse and produced it.

The magistrate looked it over carefully. “Well, you’ll have to have to be registered to be married.”

“Where do we do that?” I asked, bouncing on my toes.

The magistrate gave me an odd look. “Well, right here.” He pushed to door open, but made no move to let us in. “You aren’t Welsh, are you?”

“No, Sir, I’m Scottish,” I did not try to hide the pride in my voice.

“Hmpfh. No wonder I can’t understand a thing you say,” He muttered and Alexander laughed out loud. I poked him in the shoulder and shot Oliver a look that stopped him before he started. The constable gave me a long stare, “Have you lived in Wales more than seven days?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well, come in then. Right this way and I’ll get you your license. You have to fill it out and sign it and then I have to file it…”

“How long will that take?” Alexander asked suddenly as we entered a cluttered office. He glanced sideways at Meredith. She turned her head.

The magistrate looked up to answer, but paused, his eyes moving between Alexander and Oliver as if he saw double. He wiped his eye behind his glasses, blinked, and slowly answered, “As soon as whoever’s getting married signs it, I stamp it with this,” He lifted a heavy wooden stamp, “And put it in this drawer,” He motioned to a filing cabinet, “And then it’s filed.”

“And we can we get married then, yeah?” Oliver asked eagerly, his grin spread from ear to ear.

The magistrate sighed, clearly annoyed, but then he looked into Oliver’s face and softened. “It’s supposed to be a wait of fourteen days.”

“Fourteen days!” Oliver exclaimed. “We’ll be damned to hell in fourteen days! Or so say my parents! It’ll be purgatory at best and only if they pray hard enough! Sil will be wearing those jeans with the elastic band in the front!”

“There are not enough Fatima Prayers!” Alexander interjected, “Mother’s knees will need replaced! Great Merciful God, I’d hate to see Silvia married in a frumpy maternity gown!”

“It’s supposed to be,” The magistrate repeated, “But this is a small municipality and I am registrar. So my answer to you is as soon as you wish, since you’re in such a hurry. We wouldn’t want either of you burning in hell or your mother to have to have her knees replaced or anyone being married in an unflattering gown,” He moved around his desk and opened a drawer, fingering through files, “Now is it just two of you?”

“Just us,” Oliver and I said together. He squeezed my hand.

“I presumed that since the two of you have bees in your bonnets and the other two look as though they may duel at sundown,” He did not look up as he spoke. Oliver and I glanced at each other and stifled a laugh, “OK, then, fill this out,” He shoved a document across the desk, “And both of you sign it here,” He pointed with his pen, “And here.”

Oliver and I filled out the paper while the old man looked us over carefully. When we were through, he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and read, mumbling to himself, “Bride…Silvia Sophia Cotton, born in Edinburgh. Mother named Sharon Mariana Nettles, father named Philip Joseph Cotton…” He paused, “Groom…Oliver Eric Dickinson, born right here…” He looked up, “You’re not one of W.D. Dickinson’s clan, are you?”

“He was my grandfather,” Oliver answered, “Did you know him?”

“Yes, yes, I knew him,” He didn’t smile, but his face went soft again, “He never won at cards, but he never paid up, either. He married my cousin, Catherine. She was from Welshpool.”

“That was Nana,” Alexander said fondly, “The world was a better place with her in it.”

“I miss her,” Oliver chimed.

“The world was a better place with both of them in it. Terrible what happened,” He signed the document quickly and stamped it, looking carefully at the boys, “The whole road to their home was washed away. Well, you were probably old enough to remember, yeah?”

“It was only seven years ago, Sir, we remember well,” Oliver looked grave. “It’s not an easy thing to forget when both your grandparents drown in their car.”

I gasped. I had had no idea that the Grandpaddy and Nana he had spoken so fondly of so often about had died in such a horrible way.

“Yes,” Said the magistrate, “At least they went together, yeah?” He paused again, “You look just like her mother, you two do. Catherine’s mum, Elaine. She was my aunt, you see, married my father’s brother. Did you know Catherine’s mother was a twin as well? Had a sister named Denise who looked just like her. As much as you two do, wouldn’t know them apart and they liked it that way. Dark hair, dark eyes, just like you two.”

“We’ve been told,” Alexander mumbled and Oliver added, “Yeah.”

“Now Catherine, my cousin, Elaine’s daughter, your grandmother, she loved no place more than that little cabin way out behind the woods. Is that still there?”

“Yes, Sir,” Said Oliver and Alex in uniform.

“Hmmm. I played cards there once. Lost my gloves. Looked all over for them, but when I got home they were put together and laying on my bed like someone wanted me to find them,” He scratched his head, “Odd night that was.”

Oliver and Alexander glanced at each other knowingly, then they both looked at me with their eyebrows as high as they would go. I raised mine in response and turned my attention back to the magistrate.

It seemed like the conversation was going to go on forever when the old man ended it as quickly as it had begun. “I’m ready now,” He took us into a different room, “Sunnier,” He said and then mumbled, “Bit dusty.”

The sun was shining through the high set windows with such ferocity that Oliver and I had to squint against it. Dusty was an understatement. It was all I could do not to cough just looking at all the powder floating in the air, illuminated by the light. He stood us in the centre of the room and ithout the use of any book, rifled off the shortest wedding sermon in human history. “I welcome you to witness the marriage of…” He looked at Oliver. “Names again?”

“Oliver and Silvia.”

“Oliver and Silvia.” He repeated, then shook his right hand as if it were asleep, and kept on, “Oliver and Silvia, you have shared a past, short as it may be, and you may now share a future, which could potentially go on forever. Marriage is a promise in the heart of two people who love each other. It is the state in which Oliver and Silvia wish to enter.” He looked at Alexander, “Who gives their blessing?”

“Uh, I do,” He seemed surprised to be addressed, “I give them my blessing, Sir.”

“Your name?”

“Alexander.”

“Thank you.” He turned back to Oliver and me, “Alexander gives his blessing. I don’t suppose there is anyone here who would show cause as to why you should not be married?”

We all looked at Meredith. She opened her mouth, but was met with such a threatening scowl from Alexander that she immediately shut it. Instead of speaking, she looked at the ceiling and tapped her toe against the floor.

“Very well.” He turned back to us, “Oliver and Silvia, you are required by law to inform me if there is any legal or moral reason why you should not be married. Tell me now if there is.” It was obvious he did not completely accept our story. My guess was it had something to do with the parental signatures that I was certain Alexander had not procured by asking anyone to sign anything that had to do with our marrying. In fact, I was certain that none of our parents had actually signed anything at all.

Oliver and I looked at each other. “No, there are none, Sir.” He answered softly.

“All right then,” He sighed, “Face each other. Take her hands, Boy! Right! What’s your full name again, Son?”

“Oliver Eric Dickinson, Sir.” He took my hands in his and gave me the same kind of smile a child would give a giant lollipop.

“And yours, Miss?”

“Silvia Sophia Cotton.” I answered as I felt a warmth rush over me. I smiled and Oliver and I both began to laugh nervously.

“Oliver Eric Dickinson, do you take Silvia Sophia Cotton to be your wedded wife?”

“I do.” His eyes were filled with tenderness.

“Will you love her until you die? Cherish her no matter what she says or does and be true to her and only her as long as you both shall live?”

“Absobloodylutely.” He grinned.

“Will you honour her and care for her even if she’s sick?”

“I will.”

“Silvia Sophia Cotton, do you take Oliver Eric Dickinson to be your wedded husband?”

“I do.” I squeezed his hands.

“Will you love him until you die? Cherish him no matter what he says or does and be true to him and only him as long as you both shall live?”

“I swear I will.” I couldn’t take my eyes away from his.

“Will you honour him and care for him even if he’s sick?”

“Yes,” I replied absently. Oliver smiled and I realised I’d answered wrong, “Right! I mean, I will!”

“May you always share your hopes, dreams, joys and sorrows. Oliver, repeat after me: I, Oliver, take you, Silvia, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship and in plenty as long as we both shall live.”

“I, Oliver, take you, Silvia, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship as in plenty as long as we both shall live.”

“Silvia, repeat after me: I, Silvia, take you, Oliver, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship and in plenty as long as we both shall live.”

He said it so fast I got a little lost, but I gave it a go, “I, Silvia, take you, Oliver, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow and with joy, and in hardship and when we have plenty for as long as we both shall live.”

“Close enough. Do you have rings?”

“I have one for her, Sir.” Oliver reached into his shirt pocket and produced it.

“Well, give it to her! Put it on her finger and say this: I offer you this ring as a symbol of my undying love for you. Let it always stand as a reminder of my devotion to you.”

“I offer you this ring,” He slipped it on to my finger. His voice was quiet, yet it lingered in the room, “As a symbol of my undying love for you. Let it stand as a reminder of my devotion to you.”

“You don’t have a ring for him?”

“No, Sir.”

He sighed, “May you enjoy lengthy days filled with love. Now you have made your vows. I pronounce you husband and wife.” The room was completely silent. “Go ahead then!” He snapped, “You’re husband and wife! Kiss her, like you haven’t done that already and good luck to you!”

Oliver took me into his arms and we met for our first kiss as a married couple, “I’ll love you forever, Silvia,” He whispered in my ear.

I thought for just a second that I could pull away. I don’t know why it crossed my mind to bolt, but it did. Just for one split second there was doubt, but there was not a bit of me that wanted to do it. Instead, I stood on my toes and held on to him as tight as I could. “Me, too, Oliver,” I whispered, kissing the smooth skin of his cheek. “I’ll love you forever.”

“Forever, Love.”

“Forever.”

Oliver and I spent our first two weeks of married life in that little cabin only getting out of bed long enough to use the loo and head into town for food. We’d make love and sleep, wake up and talk and laugh, feed the fire, eat, take a bath, make love again, eat and sleep some more, make love again…it was just like heaven, our little heaven. I’d never been so happy in my entire life, but as the days flitted past that horrible monster called anxiety began to sneak up on me.