Colin arrived early the next day, and suggested breakfast.
"Unless, of course, you're sick in the morning?"
Marion smiled tolerantly. "Colin. Women have been having babies for a very long time. I'm not made of glass, and I'm fine. Really."
Colin called a cab and took her to a mom-and-pop diner near the airport. In spite of herself, Marion had to admit that she enjoyed his gentle attention as much as she enjoyed her fluffy omelet, crisp toast and strong, steaming coffee. When did Indy stop looking at me that way? The little café was full of pilots and mechanics, and Colin seemed to know many of them. Marion smiled and tried to ignore their curious glances .
After the waitress cleared their plates, a man in a flight suit arrived at their table. He had a shock of red hair above a tanned friendly face.
"Colin Williams, as I live and breathe!" he said. "I was going to ring you with a little business offer, and you've just saved me the trouble."
Colin half rose to shake the other man's hand. "Nigel Stewart, Marion Ravenwood. Nige likes to dress up and play like he's a pilot, Marion. The rest of us tolerate him because he makes us laugh."
"Don't believe this blighter, Miss Ravenwood. Colin here likes to pretend that bucket of bolts he flies is an actual plane. The rest of us make money betting on when he'll crash next."
"All joking aside, Nige is one of the best in the North Atlantic."
"Col really means best looking."
Marion smiled at the two men's obvious camaraderie and friendship. They sound just like Indy and Sallah… "Won't you join us, Mr. Stewart?"
Nigel slipped into the booth and accepted a cup of coffee.
"The reason I was looking for you, Col, is that Reg Thompson wants to stay stateside anther week, and I'm scheduled to make the Blighty run in two days. Still interested in hitching a ride?"
"Might be, actually," said Colin. "I'm not rated on the DC-3 but I could take a shift or two at Nav and Com , or in the right seat as long as I don't have to land her."
"That would be a Godsend, mate. It's not the time of year to be flying that run with your crew a man short."
At this point the conversation became alarmingly technical. Marion, who was discovering that early pregnancy involved frequent trips to the loo, excused herself to the ladies.
When she left the table, Nigel smiled at his friend.
"So that's the girl you've been eating your heart out for, Col? She's a knockout!"
Colin smiled "Isn't she? And yesterday was my lucky day-her wedding's off, the son of a bitch jilted her."
Nigel raised his coffee in a silent toast. "Jilt a woman like her? Jones is an idiot, but nothing new there. Well, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, as my mum used to say. And I see you, my lad, aren't wasting any time."
"Well, it's not quite like that. Marion has no family, few friends stateside that she doesn't share with Jones, and she's been left in a rather tight spot."
Nigel caught Colin's eye, and held it. "Like that, is it? You know I've always thought Jones rather a piece of work-but this…. So the good doctor got her 'in the club' before he up and left, did he?"
"You didn't hear that from me."
"And nobody will hear it from me. So, Col, shall I have an extra stowaway to England's green and pleasant land?"
Colin paused, considering. "You're a clever bloke, Nige. Taking her to Blighty would get her safe and amongst friends quickly. I could bring her to London-wouldn't take much for my Mum to take her part. And if she's well away from Jones… all the better for me."
"People will think it's yours."
"Let them. If that baby comes with Marion, you can call me 'Da' any time."
"You know your own business best. Ring me if I can help."
When Marion came back the two men were shaking hands and Colin was signaling for the check
On the way back (not home, not home anymore) Colin said, "So what's on the agenda, sweetheart?
Her heart squeezed painfully. "Don't call me that."
There was an awkward moment, as Colin flushed and cleared his throat. "I am sorry" he said finally, "that was thoughtless of me."
"I'm sorry, too, but right now I don't want to hear another nickname for as long as I live."
"Understandable," said Colin. And it is, he thought. Every other word out of that bastard's mouth was 'honey, baby, sweetheart, darling'. Fat lot of good it's done her…
Marion smiled and changed the subject. "Today's a bit complicated. The movers are coming tomorrow, so I need to pack my clothes and the rest of Indy's personal belongings, and box up the kitchen things to give away."
"Aren't you taking any of those with you?"
"No, I won't take anything I used to cook for Indy. Some other woman can enjoy using them for her man. I want a fresh start without the reminders of him."
Bit late for that, Colin thought. You'll have one hell of a little reminder in seven or eight months, darling.
He changed the subject, instead. "Any wedding gifts? What about them?"
"Oh, damn. I've sent thank you notes, but I'm sure Emily Post will say they ought to be returned. I'm awfully tempted to ship them back with his clothes and let Jones handle them."
"Oh, when he's eighty-five?"
Marion snickered. "There is that. No, I'll take care of it. Best to start as you mean to go on."
Colin smiled- a wide, genuine smile. "My Mum says that-often. I think you and she would deal extremely well, Marion. She's knocked around the world a good bit, too-ran my grandfather's tea plantation from when she was 15 or so until she married my Dad. She's a little thing like you, no bigger than a tuppence, but Da says she has more pluck in her little finger than most men do in their whole bodies."
"She sounds nice."
"Oh she is. You remind me of her. May I call you that- Tuppence, after her? It suits you."
Marion's heart ached at the thought of another man and his special pet names for her that she would never hear again. Still, one must start as one meant to go on…
"You're a foolish man, Col. But if you insist….."
The morning passed quickly, as Marion packed her clothes and Colin emptied the kitchen cupboards. At noon, Marion called a halt and Colin proposed a trip to the delicatessen.
"You're looking a bit peaked, Tuppence. Why don't you stay here and rest? Just put your feet up and listen to the wireless. I shan't be long."
Marion was tiring a little more easily these days and didn't feel like putting up much of a fight.
She was dozing on the couch when Colin returned.
"Brought you something" he called. For a moment Marion heard another man's voice- "Brought you something, Short Stuff…." She shook her head and looked up.
"Marion, my dear" said Harold Oxley.
Marion sprang up, and Ox enfolded her in a warm embrace, most unlike his usual reserved and proper self.
"I just got into town-Colin rang me at my hotel. Oh, dear girl-I came up here to walk you down the aisle at your wedding, and now this. I am so sorry. "
Marion clung to Ox for a long moment, and then she lifted her head.
"Thank you, Ox."
"It's his loss, my dear."
"I don't want this to affect your friendship with Indy."
Ox squeezed her hand.
"Marion," he said resolutely, "Some actions have consequences. Colin has told me of your attempts to shield Henry from scandal. They're understandable, and in many ways praiseworthy. But the world is a better place when decent men uphold a code of honorable behavior. As your friend and a friend of your father's, I've a bone to pick with that cad, Henry Jones- and rightfully so. Now, archaeology is a small world, and we'll likely cross paths, but he'll receive nothing but the cut direct from me."
"Hear hear, Ox "said Colin, "And no more than the bounder deserves Maybe you've spent so long in the back-beyond, Marion, that you've forgotten how this works. Now we're not all saints and monks in the backcountry…"
"Certainly not" Marion interjected dryly.
"I say, Marion, I may earn my bread and butter in some out of the way places, but my father taught me to behave like a gentleman, thank you very much. And Dad would say that a man who proposes marriage to a woman and then treats his fiancée worse than one treats a"-Colin paused-"woman of 'a certain class'- is not on- simply not on."
Marion smiled at her defenders. "Thank you, gentlemen.'
The three friends ate a deli lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon filling a trunk with Indiana'sbooks, clothes and miscellaneous-things-left- behind.
"Priceless artifacts", Ox grumbled, "and the blighter scatters them like ninepins and leaves them billy-o…"
Marion became pensive as the last layer of clean shirts from the laundry was laid on top. "I'm not sure what to do about one last thing."
"And what's that, my dear?" asked Ox.
"My-my engagement ring "
"As best I know", Ox replied, "a lady whose fiancé broke their engagement is entitled to keep the ring."
"That's what Emily Post says, but this ring was his mother's, and he loved her so. I shouldn't keep it. Ordinarily, if Indy was out of the country, I could return it to his family, couldn't I?"
"Yes."
"Now I think Dr. Jones Sr. is at Princeton, but Indy's barely spoken to his father in 20 years. He didn't even invite him to our wedding."
"You know," Ox remarked thoughtfully, "it says a good deal about a man when his own father refuses to acknowledge him."
"It does" agreed Colin. "That's a red flag that we were all a little too ready to ignore."
"Marcus Brody is Indy's godfather, isn't he Ox?" asked Marion.
"If he is, piss-poor job he's done of instilling character in his charge…"
"Colin..."
"Sorry, Tuppence. That's hardly helping you, is it?"
"Emily didn't have anything to say about this but I thought you'd know, Ox-is a godfather an acceptable substitute for a blood relative?"
"In this case, I should think so."
"Well then. I'll pack the ring and whatever else he left to be sent to Dr. Brody. Why don't the two of you take the wedding gifts to the Post Office and mail them? That's one more thing to get out of the way and –her voice wavered, just a little, "I'd really rather be alone for this part."
Colin hesitated, but Ox pulled him in by eye and the two men, packages in hand, promised to be back soon.
Marion sat in the in the living room and listened as their footstepsfaded away. She gathered a box, some tissue paper and cotton wool left over from packing the wedding gifts. Then she opened the top dresser drawer on- not Indy's side, not any longer…... and took it to the bed to empty it . She was oddly comforted to see how much had been left behind. There was Indy's dress watch, and the gold and onyx cufflinks she had given him last Christmas. There was a tie tack from the University of Chicago, and a money clip made out of a gold doubloon, a gift from Marcus Brody when he'd gotten his D. Phil. These things meant something to Indy. if he'd been planning to leave me for a long time, he would have taken them with him. Doesn't make you any less of a bastard , Jones, but it will be easier to explain to Skeezix here..
Then she pulled out a small box that held matching gold wedding bands. 'May you wear them in good health for many long and happy years' the jeweler had said. They'd walked out of his shop, hand in hand, dizzy with happiness.
Marion wrapped each piece in tissue paper and packed them carefully in cotton wool . Last of all, she picked up the faded velvet ring box that had belonged to Anna Jones. It opened with a faint 'snick. '
She looked down sadly at the glowing sapphire on her hand. "Doesn't shine any brighter than your eyes, baby …" Indy had smiled that soft loving smile that was hers alone when he'd slipped it on her finger. "My life has been a mess since 26, honey, but finally something's gone right-now that I've got my sweet baby back ….You're the best thing that ever happened to me and there are no words good enough for the way I feel about you…"
She started to jerk the ring from her finger, like pulling a band aid off a scab. But somehow she just couldn't do that. So Marion took off her ring, gently and slowly, then raised the gold band to her lips.
"I'll take good care of your grandbaby, Anna ," she said softly. "I promise. As for that boy of yours, I guess that's up to you, now." She put the ring back in its box and tucked it in with the rest of the jewelry.
Something still needed doing, and Marion suddenly knew what it was. No pleas, no tears, no farewells or recriminations-just five words written on a leftover sheet of stationery folded up with Indy's things. . Then Marion carried the package into the living room, and taped it shut. And held it, cradled against her like a child, until she heard Ox and Colin's returning steps.