Saturday, 30-April, 13.37
The gentle, rolling hills of the English country side surrounded them as they traveled down the M4; Radio 3 playing quietly. Splashes of colors dotted around the freshly planted fields; the yellows of tulips and purples of crocuses breaking up the miles of green. Between them, their linked hands rested on the leather console, fingers tracing over the others skin.
Every once in awhile, Ruth brushed the tip of a finger along the band of gold she'd placed on his left ring finger; a smile on her face as she thought of the morning they'd had. The look of disbelief and then utter joy that had fitted across his face when he'd realized she had agreed to his plan would be something she'd never forget.
As the last strains of piano from Bach's Toccata in E Minor gave way to the afternoon host, Harry lifted their joined hands to his lips.
Turning from the window, Ruth met his eyes briefly and smiled before he turned his focus back to the motorway. Switching lanes, he veered the SUV onto the A350 and let their hands settle on the console again. Fingers squeezing hers, he voiced the thought he'd be thinking about all morning.
"Ruth, are you sure you were okay with the wedding?"
"Of course. I couldn't have asked for anything more."
"I feel a bit guilty that it wasn't more than just us and the registers clerks as witnesses. By rushing it, I took the chance of a big wedding away from you."
Glancing down at the joined hands, she let her finger caress his ring again before speaking. "Harry, all it was ever going to need to be perfect was for you to be there with me. I've never been the girl who wanted a big wedding; even as a teenager."
"So it's true than, girls do dream about their wedding?"
"I guess. I can't speak for every teenage girl; and I was nowhere near as bad as some of the girls; but I did wonder every now and then."
Curious, he wondered what would have been her dream wedding. "If we'd waited and planned your dream wedding, what would you have done?"
"Married you."
With a shake of his head and a smile, he glanced over at her. "Cheeky."
"I'm serious. The how and when didn't matter to me." she paused a moment; a thought coming to her; before continuing. "Well no, that's not true. I wanted to be married before the twins came."
"You'd never thought about our wedding?" Seeing her blush and look out the window, he smirked. "You have thought about it!"
Trying to fight a smile, she looked back at him. "Of course I have. I thought about it before you'd even tried to ask me out to coffee. But it was silly."
"Tell me about it."
"Harry." she was almost whining as she said his name and he had to fight to keep from laughing.
"I've never thought your ideas silly. A bit elaborate at times, but never silly. And really, it's a simple question Ruth. What would our wedding have been like if it'd given you time to plan it?"
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No. So you'd be wise to just tell me."
With a sigh, she shook her head. "I would have liked it to be a quiet, intimate wedding; preferably on an early December evening. We'd invite just our close friends; and your kids if they'd come. I wouldn't want anything overly big or elaborate. Maybe an old house somewhere in London with the ceremony lit entirely by candles. Boughs of Holly and Evergreens would make up the bulk of the decoration with a splash of holiday flowers mixed throughout; and somewhere in the house a fire would be burning, filling the house with the scent of freshly burnt wood."
"What would you be wearing?"
"What?" She looked over at him in confusion.
"I'm trying to picture all this in my mind."
"And you need to know what I'm wearing?"
"Yes. Even if you've not actually looked at dresses, you've some idea what you want. Appease me."
"I...I'm not sure. I guess something vintage like. Maybe along the style of a soft Chiffon sheath tank with a lace back in white. Nothing too big or poufy."
"Hmmm."
Looking over at his strange tone, she lifted an eyebrow. "What are you thinking about?"
"You at our dream wedding."
"Harry."
"What?"
"You look like you're having entirely...impure thoughts."
"You lit by candlelight in a form fighting dress that's hugging your post pregnancy curves; and getting to peel that dress off you later in the evening; of course I'm having impure thoughts."
"Harry." she said, trying not to blush at the images he was creating for her.
"See, now you're thinking the same thing." Glancing over at her again, he grinned. "My lips trailing a path down the curve of your neck as my fingers slide under the lace covering your..."
Turning back to the road, she shook her head. "Just drive."