Jenkins came back and shooed us out after the hour was almost up, and I'd just finished tying my tie and adjusting the holster
Jenkins came back and shooed us out after the hour was almost up, and I'd just finished tying my tie and adjusting my spiffy new socks. I'm leaving my weapons behind today.
"Very nice tie, cumberbund, and socks, Seeley."
Jack laughed. "I don't know where Vincenzo came up with them, but he's got ceruleuan, silver, white and grey paisley boxers to match."
"You're just jealous, Jack, that you don't look so spiffy."
"Come on, man, let's go. I've got your 'Stang out front. But you're not driving. You concentrate on staying chill, alright?"
- - -
Angela and Cam had dressed already, the silvery blue and pale yellow of the dresses complementing their dark hair and skin tones. They'd painted their own toenails blue, in "chillblains solidarity, as Cam said. I was finishing scrunching and spraying my curls so they'd be more pronounced as they came back in to do their own makup, and I started mine.
"Bren, isn't that your Wonder Woman eyeshadow?"
"He likes it," I said, curling my lashes and applying the first coat of mascara.
"He liked that costume, too," Cam leered. "You were practically popping out of that top."
"It's an accurate replica of Linda Carter's costume," I said. "I can't help it if the design is such that my breasts just look fabulous. Besides, he really prefers the boots."
Angela's mouth dropped open as I shocked her again. This is fun, even if it's not true-- we haven't gotten around to the boots yet, and don't think I didn't see you ogling me after we got back to the lab that night.
"Grace!" gasped Cam. "You didn't..."
I smirked. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. And maybe I have a story about my Amazonium bracelets..."
"Bren!!"
- - -
And then it was time to put on my dress. Angela and Cam held the collar away from my face as I slipped it over my head, Cam coming around to zip up the side, then standing in front of me.
"Here," she said, handing me the silver bracelet she often wore. "Something borrowed-- it was my grandmother's. She wore it at her wedding, was married for 65 years, and lived until she was 90, when she passed in her sleep. It's good luck."
"Oh, Cam," I sighed, and gave her a hug, surprised all over again at how much things had changed, for the better, with all of our friends, even with this thing looming over us. "Thank you so much, I promise I will take the best care of it."
Angela had gotten her camera and was taking a picture as I was hugging Cam, so then she set up the timer and we took some silly photographs of the three of us before I went back into the bathroom to put my veil in my hair. Ange was sighing as she took pictures of my finishing up, when there was a knock at the door.
Jenkins came in, saying, "I have seen the gentlemen off, so ladies, your chariot awaits. Temperance, may I offer you my escort to the door?"
I took his arm, and fluttered my eyelashes at him. "But of course. How could I say no to the epitome of suave attention?"
He laughed, and replied as we descended the stairs. "Have I told you about the time that I escorted Jackie Onassis to the Monaco Royal Ball one time when Aristotle was laid up with the gout?"
- - -
And then we were there, Ange and Cam taking my elbows as I mounted the steps. I stood admiring the larger version of the invitation that Angela had designed, which had been framed in a platinum frame, and set on an easel standing just outside the door to the sanctuary.
On a piece of cream-colored parchment, deckle-edged like a page from a volume of poetry or an ancient history, inside a sepia and cerulean border in an interlocking series of circles that overlapped and touched in the center, was the printed reality of what we were doing, announced to the world in navy and chocolate brown ink.
Seeley Michael Booth
and
Temperance Joy Brennan
invite you to join them as they celebrate
the fourth anniversary of their partnership,
and the first day of their marriage.
Please join them as they commence a new partnership,
as Seeley and Temperance Booth-Brennan.
Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
R. Frost, "Birches"
Earth is the right place for love. I sent up my wish that the best and worst part of the poem reflected-- "May no fate willfully misunderstand me/ And half grant what I wish and snatch me away/ Not to return./ Earth's the right place for love/I don't know where it's likely to go better."
When I opened my eyes, I could see you, down at the end of the sanctuary, coming in with Jack and your brother. The pews and the altar were decorated with silver ribbons, tying closed arrangements of herbs and flowers I knew you would recognize-- anyone who was a literature and poetry minor would be conversant with the language of flowers. It was something I'd thought of last week and asked the florist to arrange. I'll admit I'm often too preoccupied with clinical pursuits to be as thoughtful about romantic gestures as you are, but this one seemed right, a veritable display of our partnership in flowers.
My father came back out of the sanctuary then, as Cam and Ange settled my veil at my back and in front of my face, and gasped as he came over to meet me. "Oh, honey. Just like your mother." Coming forward, he grasped my hands, his eyes moist, and kissed me through the veil. "I won't move your veil, that's for your boy to do. You've never looked more beautiful."
And then I felt a tug at my hem, and an excited "Dr. Bones!"
I turned to kneel, and smiled up at Rebecca and Brent. "Hhe looks great, thank you so much," I said, and Rebecca bent to kiss me on the cheek before Brent led her in.
"Parker, that is a snazzy paisley tie and a really sharp cumberbund. Did your dad pick those out for you?"
He nodded vigorously. "I have socks, too, see!" He proudly pulled up his pants legs to show me the matching knit socks, and Cam and Ange burst into laughter.
"You ready to help with this, pal?" He nodded, and my father came over, bending forward, to hand Parker the blue and brown braided ribbon on which our wedding bands hung.
Parker solemnly took it, holding it in his hand, as he bent forward to kiss my father on the cheek, and say, "Thanks, Grandpa Max."
And then, it was time, and the organ music stopped, and the cello began playing "In Your Eyes." Cam pushed Parker up the aisle, then started herself. Ange shot me a look over her shoulder, so I said "Denial is only a river in Egypt," startling a laugh from her that floated back as I took my father's arm.
"Ready, Temperance?"
"Like I've been waiting forever."
- - -
I was in the choir room with Jared and Jack, making sure we had the rings to give to your father for Parker, and not feeling nervous at all. I was totally keyed up yesterday, but now that it was here, I was actually feeling calmer than I thought I would.
Jared, admiring the rings, "Why'd you choose platinum for the bands, Seel?"
Jack quirked an eyebrow. Of course, he'd understood as soon as I'd told him what we wanted, but he let me reply.
"Platinum is the most valuable metal, more precious than gold, the most corrosion resistant. It is stronger than any one metal alone, stronger than the sum of the metals that make up its parts. It's used for artistic and industrial works-- an endlessly versatile metal. It's nearly impossible to scratch, withstands high heat that would melt other metals, and resists hammering with ordinary or even extraordinary force. Just like our partnership."
"Still a poetry minor."
"Always."
"You're a blessed man, Seel. I'm happy for you. And not just because your wife would kick my ass if I wasn't."
"Thanks, Jared."
Your dad stuck his head in, then, and lit up when he saw me. His Charm Smile is almost as good as mine. "Boy!" He called, as he crossed the room.
"Max," I mock-growled, since he was all disappointed the one time I didn't act like I hated being called "Boy."
We hugged, like a father and son, albeit killer fathers and sons, and I didn't frisk him, and he turned his back to the room, trusting me to watch over his shoulder. When we pulled apart, he grasped my arms and looked me in the eye. "I meant what I said," he said, his eyes moist.
"I know you did, Max. I appreciate it."
"Never again."
"Never have, never will."
And then he let go, and put his hands on my face, and pulled me down to plant a kiss on my forehead. "You're a good boy, only the best for my little girl. I'm proud to call you my son."
And then he was gone, slipped out of the room before Jack and Jared even knew he'd turned and gone. I'll say it again-- I hope I move that fast when I'm his age.
Jack patted his pockets for the rings, then said, "He must have taken them, the old thief, but I'll be damned if I know how...", then stuck his head out into the sanctuary, and came back in, offering the family salute. Returning it, we then walked out to take our places at the altar, as I took in the arrangement of flowers you had to have designed. For me, for you, for us-- it summed up our partnership completely. I wondered if anyone else would understand. Acalia for Temperance, and oak leaves for strength. Yellow chrysanthemums, for sighted love, chestnut leaves for justice. Silvery green rosemary, for remembrance, and blue heliotrope, for devotion. There were green-yellow Bells of Ireland, for luck, and white snowdrops, for consolation and hope. Last, there were feathery green fennel fronds, again for strength, blue forget-me-nots, for true love, and two eglantine roses, signifying old wounds, now healed. Anyone who says you're not a romantic, Bones? Just point them out to me, I'll take care of it.
Parker had arrived, and moved to stand next to me, a look of pride on his face as he waved the ribbon with the rings at me. "Good job, Bub," I mouthed, as I turned to see Angela and Camille arrive, to stand opposite us, smiling like attending angels.
Jack leant in to murmur, "Ready, Seeley?"
"Like I've been waiting forever."
- - -
I entered the rear of the sanctuary with my father, my hand slightly shaking on his arm. He gave it a squeeze, and said, "Only the best for your boy, and only the best for my little girl."
We stepped forward, then, as the cellist repeated the last verse of the song, the part that ends "I am complete," and I made my way past our friends and our family, who we'd loved and protected, and who'd loved and protected us in return, and was stunned to see not just the friends we'd invited, but so many of "our" partnership's families. The Ellers. Margaret and the boys. Megan and her parents. Kyle Richardson, his boy squirming a little in the pew. There were nearly two dozen of our families, there to celebrate with us. My hand spasmed on my father's arm, as Andy waved at me, now a toddler and smiling his same special smile. My father leant over and whispered. "Jack and Angela thought they would want to bear witness to a happy event on your fourth Anniversary."
And then I looked forward, at you, the most beautiful man in the world, and our eyes met as you finished scanning the crowd, a look of pride, and amazement, and love in your smile, that I'm sure was the mirror of mine as my steps firmed, my heart quickened, and I resisted the urge to run toward you. Temperance, Temperance, I reminded myself. There will be time for immoderation later, after the guests have all gone.
- - -
I looked down the aisle, and saw you shining there, next to your father, paused on the doorway, looking ready and willing and eager. The congregation rose as you began to process, and the movement caught my eye as I realized there were more people in the pews than we'd put on the list. Before they'd done turning, my automatic tendency to sweep the room let me see them all in in an instant. The Ellers. Margaret and the boys. Megan and her parents. Carol and Andy, Kyle Richardson, his boy squirming a little in the pew. There were nearly two dozen of "our" families, there to celebrate with us. I turned to Jack, and he smiled and said, "Happy Anniversary, brother."
So I smiled, and turned back, and looked forward at you, the most beautiful woman in the world, flanked by the crowd of all of our families, and saw the look of pride, amazement, and love in your smile, that I'm sure was the mirror of mine as my knees straightened, my heart quickened, and I resisted the urge to run toward you. Temperance, Seeley, I reminded myself. There's plenty of time for immoderation, after the guests have all gone.
- - -
As we held hands, facing one another, the priest read the invocation, followed by Angela, with the reading we'd agreed would be first.
"From Sonnets from the Portuguese, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet Twenty-Two," she began,
When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either curved point,—what bitter wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,
The angels would press on us and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Rather on earth, Beloved,—where the unfit
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.
The prayers continued, and we knelt for the readings from the twenty-third psalm, and the traditional letter from Paul to the Corinthians, and then Jack ascended the pulpit to read the Apache wedding blessing you'd found.
Now you will feel no rain,
For each of you will be shelter to the other.
Now you will feel no cold,
For each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there is no more loneliness,
For each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two bodies,
But there is one life before you.
Go now to your dwelling place,
To enter into the days of your togetherness.
And may your days be good and long upon the earth.
We knelt again, as the priest read out the reading from Revealations we'd both agreed we hoped would bring this second partnership we were now beginning to an end, so we could live to enjoy a third one: "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."
And then your father read the final reading, before our vows began.
"Shakespeare's Twenty-Fifth Sonnet," he called, his voice fierce and ringing.
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
Then happy I, that love and am beloved,
Where I may not remove nor be removed.
- - -
The priest went through the traditional vows, as we stood, my eyes feasting on your face through your veil, your eyes shining and your smile jubilant. And then it was time.
"Will you, Seeley Michael Booth, take this woman, Temperance Joy Brennan, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all who would tear you apart, as long you both may live?"
Any vow I had ever made fell away, and I willed my voice to sound as strong as my love for you.
"I will."
- - -
I stood, your hands clasped strongly in mine, my eyes tracing the strength and the tenderness in your face. And then it was time, as your voice rang with the same depth of devotion that I feel for you.
"Will you, Temperance Joy Brennan, take this man, Seeley Michael Booth, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, forsaking all who would tear you apart, as long as you both may live?"
I have never made a vow-- I don't believe in them. But I believe in you, so I willed my voice to mirror the faith and the trust I have in you.
"I will."
- - -
And then it was time for our vows. We'd agreed not to share them with each other, and I wondered what you would say when I was done. So I looked you in the eye, as I gave your hands a squeeze, and began.
"Temperance Joy, immoderate happiness, immoderate sorrow, contradictory blessing and gift. You are not just a finder of truth, but a healer of hearts. Your cleareyed acceptance, your calm understanding, the way you make others passions your own-- your wide open heart-- your dedication to the expansion of knowledge, in the deep-held belief that the enemy of happiness is not only cruelty, but ignorance-- your strength in the face of horrors, your determination and persistence when all light has failed, and others despair-- your willingness to sacrifice your own comfort, morality, and life for the benefit of others-- your light, which casts no shadows, but illuminates truth and beauty, and leaves lies and indecency nowhere to hide-- for these reasons, Temperance, my own, I promise.
I promise to never leave you of my own will-- to let your drive every once in a while-- to lend you my strength in our search for justice, and our need to eliminate threats if we must-- to not roll my eyes at the phrase "anthropologically speaking," -- to cherish your loved ones, as you've made them my own-- to keep my heart and mind open to truth, and to not rush to judgment-- and to hold the center as long as I may.
My funny, brilliant, beautiful Bones, your unquestioning acceptance, your grace under pressure, your insistence on excellence and truth, your love and your tenderness are the greatest gifts of my life, and I pledge you my heart, my love, and my strength as we continue our life's work, always together."
You gave me the most beatiful smile I've yet to see, and squeezed my hands back, then responded.
"Seeley Michael-- do you know what your name means? Michael is easy-- your saint's name, your avocation, like Archangel Michael, a warrior defending the innocent, and meting out justice to the foes of pease and contentment, comfort and love. There is no question you have proven yourself worthy of this name, time and again.
But Seeley-- do you know what it means? It comes from the German, Selig, meaning blessed, or fortunate, or lucky. And fortunate is what I am, blessed to know you and love you, Seeley, to earn your trust and to be allowed to partner you in work and in life. Everyone for whom you work on Michael's behalf is fortunate, blessed, but I count myself most luck of all, to have been granted the grace, or the Providence, or the Serendipity of being allowed to be your helpmeet, your partner, and love. I count myself most fortunate, for your persistence, your patience, your passion, and the partnership we have forged in pursuit of our mutual goals. For these reasons, Seeley Michael, I promise.
I promise to honor Parker as the child of my body, for he is already the child of my heart-- to make you Mac and Cheese and Chocolate pudding whenever you want-- to keep sacred your secrets, as you cherish mine-- to keep you in cashmere socks in colors that hurt my eyes for our lifetime together-- to honor your dedication to duty, above your own needs-- to only make you eat tofu once a month-- to always tell you the truth, as I always have-- to continue to listen, and accept, believe and support-- and to hold the center as long as I may.
My valiant and charming, wonderful Booth, your unfaltering presence, your boundless love, your fierce soul, your mercy and tenderness left me no choice but to love you, my fortunate warrior, and to pledge you my strength and devotion to what is my fight and yours. There is no other conclusion-- I have no doubt. There is only honor, and trust, faith, and love."
The priest was speaking, and we managed the parts about giving one another our rings, Parker handing them to us in turn, as we proclaimed "I thee wed," but I was so overwhelmed by what you had said that I didn't really come back to myself until I heard the priest finish the best part of all.
"Seeley, and Temperance, having given your vows to be witnessed by God and your loved ones, I now pronounce you man and wife."
I'm sure he said the "you may kiss the bride" part, but my hands were already moving to lift your veil, you stepping toward me, meeting me halfway, as you always do, your hand around my neck and my hand at your bare back. Looking down at you, I said, "Hello, Mrs. Booth," and you replied, "Hello, Mr. Brennan," as our lips met in our first married kiss, and the world disappeared as we shared the purest, most passionate kiss of all, so far.
When we parted, there were smiles and tears and smirks and leers on the faces and in the eyes of our families, as I pulled your arm through mine and we started down the aisle. I know I was smiling deliriously, and your eyes were shining like the sun, as our families clapped, and yelled, and whooped and hollered as we passed them. And then we were out the door, and out on the stairs in the bright sunshine, and I picked you up and twirled you around, ignoring the fact that you were swatting at me because I was making you dizzy. I wanted you to feel as dizzy as I did, because you were finally, fully, my Bones.
When I put you down, and steadied you as you staggered a bit, you pulled me down for another perfect kiss. Then, letting go, you whispered two words that had my mother wondering for days why we were bent over in laughter on the front steps, tears streaming from our eyes as we remembered again your third, and hopefully last, narrow escape.
"Goose poop."