For a New York night this close to Christmas, it was mild, but I still didn't want to hang around outside. It was Derek's suggestion to go to a little diner nearby and we must have looked really strange sitting in what was basically a 'greasy spoon' wearing evening dress…
And not talking.
We were alone again. Benny and Louisa, still hand in hand had left us after the short ceremony. Benny made some crude joke about needing to leave us to consummation and the marital bed.
I was glad when they had gone.
Sitting opposite me, Derek was pale, and I guessed I must be too.
"Did we seriously just do that?" He asked quietly, reality hitting home.
"Yes. We did. I've got a ring on my finger to prove it."
"Me too." He said, holding up his left hand.
"Fuck!" I couldn't help it.
"Don't worry. I'll let you off the buck for your swear box." He sighed. "I might chuck a Benji in myself."
I gaped at him.
"Der-ek! This was your idea! I just answered the phone and agreed to help you out of your 'fix'! You were the one that arranged for us to get married!"
"You didn't have to say 'yes'!"
"Actually, I didn't say 'yes'. I said 'Where's the pen?' You were the one who whipped it out so fast I didn't see the blur."
"As the actress said to the bishop." Derek muttered.
I bit my lip, because the same thought had gone through my own mind even as I said it.
"Moron!"
"Now, Now, wifey, calm down."
I leaned across the table in what I hoped was a threatening manner.
"If you ever call me that again, so help me Derek, I will pickle your penis."
I can't even begin to describe the look on the waitress' face as I uttered that sentence…or the look on my face when I realised someone other than my husband had heard it.
Derek did what Derek usually did when I embarrassed myself big-time. He smirked and became excruciatingly polite.
"Two coffees please. And I'll have…the Death by Chocolate. Casey, you want some?"
"Don't tempt me." I hissed, contemplating choking my new spouse by ramming a plate of chocolate tarte down his throat.
As the waitress made her escape, Derek grinned. "I'm your husband, babe. I'm supposed to tempt you."
I glared at him. He laughed.
Why did this man always put me on the back foot?
"Why? Derek." I asked. "Why? Why did you get us into this situation?"
He snorted. "I might have known this would be my fault."
The waitress brought us bitter, cheap coffee and we sipped it greedily, because the taste was so awful it made everything real – less dream-like. Or should that be nightmare-ish?
There was silence for a while as I watched Derek inhale the dessert. His free hand was on the table and I noticed he had stopped shaking now. (Was it food or the fact he had been witness to another of my Life's Most Embarrassing moments?)
My own hands had started to tremble. He was calm so I was not.
That figured. We really were polar opposites.
"Say something." I pleaded when he had finished eating and it was safe for him to talk.
He raised an eyebrow and started to open his mouth.
"Something sensible." I added hastily. He closed his mouth and looked thoughtful.
"What the hell are we going to say to the family?" He said eventually.
"'Hi Mom! Guess what? You're not the only Mrs Venturi in the family anymore'?" I suggested.
Despite the situation, Derek smiled.
"OR, I'll be sleeping in Derek's room this Christmas but it's okay…he's my husband." He chipped in.
"We'd sleep in my room actually. I can't sleep in your bed. It doesn't feel right." I felt the need to point out. He pulled a face.
"You don't have a problem sleeping in my bed in New York." He said, amused again.
As he spoke, Derek slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and retrieved our copy of our marriage certificate. He laid it on the table, checking it was clean and dry first.
"You know. This doesn't say 'I married my step-sister'."
"I'm not your step-sister anymore, I'm your wife."
"You're still my step-sister. The one doesn't negate the other."
"The one is a legal status, the other isn't." I protested.
"I know. Not only are we legally allowed to have sex, it's a requirement. You do realise non-consummation of the marriage counts towards grounds for divorce."
"And I can divorce you for unreasonable behaviour. I'm thinking the last hour counts."
"Fine. I've got my lawyer on speed dial."
We locked eyes…till I caved.
"This is stupid. We're even arguing about divorce." I said sadly. "We can't hold a conversation without arguing." I picked at my dress. "We probably aren't even sexually compatible."
"We were fifteen years ago." He said softly, his fingers playing with mine on the table. I was sure we were both replaying that night over and over in our heads.
Derek went on. "And we do have conversations where we stop arguing. They are normally the ones which leave us with one foot in the bedroom, desperate to…"
He took a deep breath. "Like last night…"
I looked away.
"…when we talked about going to London together next time we both had vacation days owing, and I kissed the back of your neck and you leaned into me and kissed my jaw."
I closed my eyes, the memory of last night making me warm. Derek had been different last night, sincere and even more affectionate than before. I guess he already had the wedding plans in mind. His tone now wasn't so different.
"Casey." Derek's voice was so quiet I could hardly hear it. "Why did you marry me?"
"I told you why." I whispered.
"No you didn't. You said I talked you into it. That wasn't true."
I shook my head. "It was, Derek. You asked me if I loved you, and then said you felt the same way."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. You've said it before. Except that fifteen years ago you were as young, and frankly as foolish as I was. The fact that you can still say it to me now and mean it, after the lives we've led; and the fact that I can hear you say it, and the feeling is the same as it was back then – that's why I married you. "
Derek stood up and came round the table to sit next to me.
"Why are we arguing?"
"Because we're awake?" I said wryly, but I smiled at his body's close proximity to mine.
My husband smiled back. It brightened his eyes which were doing that warm, inviting thing that they do. I hoped it wouldn't be too long before we were properly on our own.
"I love you Casey Venturi."
"I love you too."
And for the third time in fifteen years, and the third time that evening, Derek kissed me on the mouth.
It wasn't sedate this time. It was needy. We only came up for air when the waitress coughed loudly. Suddenly bereft as he released me to pay the check, I watched him closely, searching for reasons why he had such a dramatic effect on my heart and, dare I say it, my body. I found hundreds.
After she'd gone, I settled back against his arm which had wrapped itself around me.
"I need you to answer me a question." I said seriously.
"Sure."
"It's our wedding night."
"Yup."
"What the hell are we doing in a diner?"
He frowned in confusion.
I put a hand on his upper thigh. "It's a legal requirement now Derek. Benny had a point about the marital bed." I leaned in close and kissed my way up his neck to his chin and then his lips.
Derek abruptly woke out of his trance.
"Come on." He said, pulling me out of the booth and grabbing our coats, he made for the door.
"We still need to work out how to tell the family." I announced as the scenery whizzed past.
Derek groaned.
"Do we have to talk about this tonight?"
"We have to talk about it at some point."
"Yeah, but on our wedding night????"
"I'm sorry, it's just…"
"It's okay, Princess. Get the 'freaking' out of your system now, because the moment this cab stops, you're all mine…" he smirked as his voice trailed away.
I raised an eyebrow.
"As soon as the cab stops?"
"We ought to wait until then, I don't think the cab driver wants to be treated to a Derek and Casey special in the back of his cab."
I rolled my eyes at him, but my arm was behind his back and, unseen, my fingers were tracing patterns on his bare back under his shirt.
He was kissing me again. I'd lost count of the kisses by now.
The cab stopped close to the entrance to my apartment building, and Derek paid the driver and helped me out – I was still in the evening dress and getting in and out of vehicles was not easy. We entered the foyer and made for the elevator.
As soon as the doors closed, he pounced.
"You. Owe. Me. Fifteen. Years. Worth. Of. Sex." He announced, punctuating every word with a kiss against my neck.
I giggled. "Collecting tonight?"
"I'll take a down payment, Mrs V."
"I'm sure we can agree terms."
Derek looked up at the floor indicator. "Could this elevator go any slower do you think?"
"In a hurry."
"I have a desperate need." He said smirking at me.
"Oh? How long's that been brewing?"
"That depends whether you mean the current example of my…predicament which started right about the time I first saw you in that dress, or the fifteen year one since your mother coc…"
"…yes, thank you, honey. I think we both know about that without the need for explicit words."
"I love it when you use big words! It's like having my own personal librarian. With the emphasis on the 'having'."
"I'm assuming the sudden dirty talk is down to your…predicament. If I let you make love to me will you stop talking like that?"
"For a while. You'll have to…release the tension on a regular basis though."
"So I'm your own personal safety valve?"
"Something like that."
The elevator pinged. "Finally!"
I laughed.
We made it to my apartment without causing a scene for my neighbours, and I unlocked the door. Before I could stop him, Derek had scooped me up off my feet and was carrying me over the threshold.
"You know a slipped disc would be a great way to start our married life." I said with a smile.
"You weigh nothing. You don't eat enough." He complained, kicking the apartment door shut behind him, and not waiting for me to switch the lights on before he carried me to my room. Correction: Our room!
He put me back on my feet and we stood watching each other.
"It won't be the same as before." I cautioned.
"No. It will be better. I'm not worried about getting caught in your dorm room. I'm not worried about you getting cold feet. And I'm not as worried about physically hurting you, now."
"We have a lot to talk about, don't we? Our apartments, jobs, family, kids or no kids, and our future."
Derek brushed my cheek with this hand. "Yes. But at least now we know we have one."