Damon (18 page)

“I don’t think we can do it today. We have to get a license.”

He turned the corner at Main Avenue and we drove in front of the Old Courthouse. He lifted my purse and dropped it again. “You’ve got your Tennessee driver’s license, and I’ve got cash.”

He was a man of action, all right.

***

We were late getting back to Aunt Cynthia’s. It had taken us a little while to find someone to marry us on such short notice. Damon wouldn’t settle for the justice of the peace and finally bribed an uncertain couple, and the director, into letting us go ahead at a small wedding chapel.

The delay gave me time to find a nice off-white dress, and for Damon to purchase a crisp blue shirt to match his eyes. I was so nervous I didn’t hear a word of the service, but I did hear Damon’s private vow, which he whispered in my ear.

“I’ll cherish and protect you for all eternity,” he’d promised.

I promised him, also whispering in his ear, that I would never abandon him, or send him away, no matter what happened.

We’d decided to try another hotel, for our wedding night, and needed to pack our bags – and break the news. So we went back to Aunt Cynthia’s. Truthfully, I was more worried about what Bella and Chester would say than Mama and Aunt Cynthia. I was afraid their feelings would be hurt that they hadn’t been invited, or even told. But it was too late for any worries. I was officially Mrs. Magic Star Baushke Jennings now. Or just plain Maggie Jennings.

I liked it. People could never spell, or pronounce, Baushke. Jennings was a nice, easy name. And just maybe, it would lead me into a nice, easy new life.

Aunt Cynthia was cooking supper when we got there. I was excited and anxious to tell somebody, but I was also apprehensive. I knew she wouldn’t approve.

So I told Mama first. She was sitting out on the back steps with a yellow sweater draped over her shoulders.

“Are you cold?” I asked, sitting beside her as close as I could get without touching her.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said with a heavy, slow voice.

“Guess what. I got married, Mama.”

She turned her head to look at me. “To the devil?”

“To Damon. Today. Just an hour ago.”

She turned her head back to the scenery. “That’s fine, then,” she said. “If you promise to behave.”

She sounded like she thought I wanted to go spend the night over at a friend’s house. She was so dull I didn’t think she understood me. “Okay,” I said and stood up. “Everything’s running smoothly, Mama. Don’t worry.”

To my surprise, she caught hold of my skirt and looked up at me. “I love you, pretty face.”

For a moment, I couldn’t respond. She hadn’t told me that for years and years. I wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek but knew she wouldn’t like it. “I love you, too, Mama,” I told her and waited until her eyes drifted back to the yard before I went inside.

Aunt Cynthia had more to say. Damon had conveniently busied himself with packing and left me to face her alone. I approached her as she stood at the stove stirring something in a saucepan.

“We’re going to stay in a motel tonight,” I told her.

She frowned at me over her shoulder. “What about supper?”

“Well, we were going to eat out. We’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?”

“Well….” I moved farther from the stove. “Damon and I got married this afternoon.”

She whirled around splattering spaghetti sauce from the spoon. “You did? Why on earth….”

“Look at my ring,” I offered, holding out my hand. She grabbed my fingers and gave the ring a thorough examination.

Then she turned her back to me. “I just wish you’d have waited.”

“We sort of got excited.”

“He’ll hurt you. Not only does he have mental problems he’s compounding them by using drugs. Real drugs.”

“He’s not using drugs. Why won’t you believe me?”

She turned around again, anxious to slap me in the face with what she had to say. “Because if he was the only one walking around here looking like he stuck his finger in a light socket I’d think it was his disorder. But then, like this morning, you’re both bouncing in your seats and he runs off and comes back and you two go hide in the bathroom, coming out all high. Well, I’m not unwise to the world. He’s so bad for you, Maggie. He’ll ruin you. Mark my words. I’ve been there.”

I couldn’t defend myself because I couldn’t tell her the truth. What Damon and I were doing was worse than using drugs. So I became indignant.

“Well, it’s too late for that,” I told her, keeping my chin raised, “we’re already married. Forever.”

I strode from the room, letting out a hard sigh and almost collapsing as soon as I turned the corner.

Stumbling back up to my feet, I saw Damon wasn’t in the living room. I found him in Aunt Cynthia’s bedroom, going through her closet.

“Damon, get out of there!” I hissed, glancing back to make sure the coast was still clear.

“Just a minute,” he mumbled. He was sifting through papers in a shoebox. Cynthia’s private and personal things.

“She’s already mad at us.”

“Look at that.” He pointed to something on the dresser. It was an old square ring box. When I looked inside, I saw the gold ring with three diamonds in a row that I’d seen in photographs. “It’s Grampa Harvey’s wedding ring.”

“I know. Keep it,” he said. “I’ll wear it.”

I knew Aunt Cynthia would be furious, more than furious, murderous, when she saw Damon wearing the ring, but I wanted him to have it. I wanted him to wear something of mine. And it was forgotten stored away in the box. So I handed Damon the box and tucked the ring into my pocket. “Put the box back where you found it. Maybe she won’t notice.”

After checking the hallway, I rushed back to the closet. “Damon, get out of there. Please.”

“Just go back in there and run interference till I’m done,” he said. “This is important.”

I knew I couldn’t get him out of that closet without drawing Aunt Cynthia’s attention, so I went into the living room to do the packing Damon hadn’t finished, or even started.

Aunt Cynthia came through the room just as I was carrying the bags to the door. I dropped them and walked fast to catch up to her.

“Where are you going?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, and failing.

“Oh, I got sauce on my shirt. I’ve gotta soak it.”

“Wait!” I practically yelled, grabbing her arm, whirling her around to face me. “I need to say something.”

She frowned wildly. “Well, what is it? This stain is setting.”

Nothing came to mind and I almost panicked. “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mistake,” I finally said. “He seduced me.”

She forgot about her shirt and squeezed my arm. “Oh god, Maggie, I was so afraid of that. You know you can get it annulled. It’s not too late.”

“Can we talk? In the kitchen?”

“Sure, hon, just let me slip outta this shirt.”

I saw Damon dart into the bathroom just as Aunt Cynthia turned, but she didn’t see him. She turned at the bathroom door and stopped abruptly.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were in there.” She backtracked and went into the bedroom instead.

Damon came out of the bathroom wiping wet hands on his jeans, giving me a lopsided grin.

“You almost got me in trouble,” I told him when he came near.

He put his arm around my waist and pulled me up close to him. He gave me a long warm, probing kiss then whispered in my ear. “Let’s go.”

“What did you find?”

“Nothing useful.” He draped his arm around my shoulders. “C’mon. It’s our wedding night.”

“Bye!” I called to the house.

Aunt Cynthia leaned her head out the bedroom doorway. “Hey,” she said, rushing toward us, still buttoning a clean shirt. “I thought we needed to talk.”

“Oh, I’m okay now,” I told her. “We’ll drop by in a day or two. Thanks.”

She grunted at me, but I ignored her and didn’t look back as Damon and I made our escape.

***

We got a room at a decent motel, then changed clothes and went out to eat at a nice steakhouse, where we ordered our steaks rare.

“Just knock it unconscious and roll it onto a plate,” Damon told our overly-friendly waitress.

She laughed and touched his shoulder, and that was when our evening started falling apart. From that moment forward she only looked at Damon and spoke to him and made jokes with him when she came to our table.

I was jealous. I couldn’t help it. He was mine and mine alone. He was my
husband
!

I knew it was silly, rationally, it was silly, but my emotions took over and I felt slighted, unwanted, and invisible – on our wedding night. My groom should only have been looking at me. I began to imagine that Damon was flirting with her in return.

Then he left her a twenty-dollar tip on a fifty-dollar check.

By the time we left, I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want him touching me. And I certainly didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with him.

I was certain he’d done it all on purpose, to hurt me.

When we reached the motel, I refused to get out of the car. Of course, Damon was also mad by that time.

“If you don’t get out of this car,” he told me, “I’m going to leave you here all night.”

I wasn’t talking.

He stared at me for a little while, breathing heavily, then he lunged at me and growled in my face. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He went into the room and slammed that door, too.

I sat startled and alone in a car with no keys, glad he was gone, crushed that he had left me there, alone. I wanted to scream, or do something violent, but all I could do was sit there with my arms crossed and try not to cry.

He didn’t love me. If he had, he would at least have looked out the window to see if I was still sitting there, or to see if maybe I had set out walking on my own. Which I considered.

And reconsidered. I didn’t have a clue where we were or I might have done it. Damon saved me the trouble of making up my mind.

I was looking down at my beautiful wedding ring, thinking about putting it in my purse and telling him I’d thrown it out the window, when a shocking crashing sound startled me out of my seat.

A television, still attached to the stand, came sailing though a hailstorm of glass and bounced off the pavement right next to my door.

My reflexes were fast to this kind of disturbance and I put my hand on the door handle and waited to see what would happen next. This turn of event had shocked me to my senses. I couldn’t believe I’d caused this. I’d been treating him like a normal guy, but he wasn’t. He had problems, and I’d forgotten. I’d wounded him and now he was fighting back.

A chair followed the TV through the window, then my hard plastic suitcase.

I couldn’t stay in the car, I knew. He would break the window if he wanted in, locks wouldn’t matter. I watched the motel door and decided if it moved I would run, to wherever was the darkest.

People began coming out of their rooms to see what was happening. They were staring and whispering, and I saw a man run back inside to call someone.

They would arrest Damon for this.

There was a lag of a minute or two, which felt like an hour, then another chair came sailing through the window. The table would be next and it really would stir up a fuss. The small crowd backed off some, but they wouldn’t go away.

Why won’t you just go away
? I wanted to scream at them. Why did people always have to stare?

A man came running out from the office. I knew it was ‘somebody’ because he wore a white shirt and tie. And his dark face was alight with expectation.

My only thought was that I had to stop this somehow. I jumped out of the car and ran to the door, beating on it and twisting the doorknob frantically.

“Get back!” someone scolded.

“Damon! Let me in!” I shrieked. “Hurry!”

The locked turned and the door swung open, almost spilling me face-first into the room.

He pulled me in by the arm then slammed the door and locked it.

His eyes were as wild as an animal’s in danger and he squeezed my arm till I dropped to my knees in pain. Abruptly, he lifted me to my feet and crushed my body against his, pulling my hair so I had to look up at him.

“You’re too rough,” I told him, barely able to force out a voice.

He didn’t respond and kept staring at me with eyes more intense than the sun. My eyelashes fluttered against their glare.

Outside, through the broken window, I could hear the people talking, telling the manager, or whoever, all they’d seen. The word ‘crazy’ was used more than once. ‘Be careful’ was also popular.

“We have to leave,” I told him. “Please. I’m sorry I was acting like that. It wasn’t your fault. I’m totally stressed. We’ve been drinking blood and we got married all of a sudden. I freaked. That’s all. I’m going crazy, too. You’re not the only one who gets to use that excuse.”

He loosened his grip on me and began stroking my hair, the harsh glare in his eyes slowly fading.

“I’d cut off my feet for you,” he said with a hoarse voice.

“I know.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and reveled in our pounding hearts and intense heat. The strength of his arms and the hot wind of his breath aroused me in a way I’d never known. My vision turned red and I could see the pulse in his neck throbbing, calling for me to drink.

I reached to touch the swollen vein and a knock sounded at the door. It was the man in the tie, I hoped, and not the cops.

“Go in the bathroom and I’ll take care of it,” I told him.

“No,” he said, moving to put his body in front of mine. “I’ll do it. I’m me again.”

I darted around and stood in front of him. “They won’t trust you. I know how to do this. I’ve done it a hundred times.”

He held my face and trailed his thumbs over my cheeks, then kissed my forehead. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ve been here before, too. It’s me they want. I’m the lunatic, baby.”

I was certain he had been here before. More than once. But I still wanted to help him.

Damon opened the door and I could see the manager walking away, probably heading back to the office to call in reinforcements.

“Hey, there,” Damon called. His voice was still hoarse, and a little too loud.