Arrival

Louisa checked her watch, frowning. "We're going to be very late."

Martin grunted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"If we hadn't had to stop and go back to your house for your veil…"

"And my overnight case," she said huffily.

A frosty silence filled the car.

"That lost us four minutes," Martin finally said.

Louisa started to answer but stopped herself, took a breath, and after biting her lip, she said, "Had I known that we're going through with it, I've have just gone to the church by taxi, with my veil."

Martin sighed. "I… was only saying…"

"Mar-tin, just stop. It's not about time. Now is the time – our wedding day. I'm gonna marry you." She paused. "And you'll…"

"Right. Marry you. Yes." He mused over his answer. "Pauline told me that for a wedding you need a bride, a groom, and a man in black."

"Minus the bride and groom and it might be a funeral," Louisa chuckled.

"God forbid…"

They both saw the signpost ahead at the turning, pointing towards the church.

"Nearly there," they both blurted out at the same time.

Louisa laughed and took his arm. "Jinx," she said.

"What?"

"No, you can't speak until someone says your name."

"What are you saying?"

"Playground game."

He griamaced. The school play yard in his memory was a place of either torment or willful neglect and loneliness.

Louisa patted his arm, feeling sorry for him. "Martin."

"Now I can speak?"

She laughed. "Oh yes." As long as he said 'I do' during the ceremony then she felt she could proceed as well. The man always went first; ahead of the woman, in these ceremonies. So, the man 'took' her… hm. Of course, they'd already 'taken' one another four weeks ago, the night of their engagement. She cherished that night; fulfillment after such a long time and waaay too much longing.

"Yes," she said again, just as the car crunched onto gravel on the road verge, the church just yards away. "Sorry, Martin. I guess I'm so used to being around children…" she bit her lip. They hadn't actually discussed having children, and wasn't getting married part of all that? Reproduction? "School kids – they get up to things," she added. "A big part of my day, so…"

Martin went through the motions of stopping and parking the car, and then he stared straight ahead. "Louisa?"

She'd just unsnapped her seat belt, then started straightening her skirts. "Yes?" she asked warily. Suddenly she was very nervous all over again, but who would not be?

Martin took a deep breath. "There's something we ought to discuss… before we…" he waved his hand towards the church building, and they could both hear loud organ music blasting from the open doors.

"About?" Louisa turned towards him, still holding his arm.

Martin cleared his throat. "We, the two of us, may have mentioned this in passing, but we didn't actually discuss this particular item - this thing."

Suddenly ice water hit her heart and her stomach dropped. "What's 'this thing'? Martin? Second thoughts? Again? Now?"

He shrugged, but sighed, and turned his body towards her, his face suddenly serious. He took both her hands in his. "You mentioned children; uhm, your students."

"Yes?" She hoped he'd not want her to quit her job and play happy housewife. Her job was vey important to her.

"I… we… if it should happen… that… things follow a certain course…"

"What are you stammering about? Stop beating around the bush, please. Time's wasting. If we don't get in there, they'll all leave!"

He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Children as in…" he had to stop. He needed to ask her. "Ours," he finally blurted out. "Potential children, that is. Hypothetically speaking ."

"Oh," she blushed, and now her heart didn't feel like it was going to stop. "Are you saying you don't want children?"

He shook his head a minute fraction of a millimeter side to side. "I… I want… ahem, will want them - children - if you want them. Babies."

Her eyes flew wide and then she smiled. "I'm thirty-seven, Martin."

"Not too late, that is, if you want to bear a child, or several."

"Several?" and then she laughed. "Oh my God, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

His face was now very serious. "It's good that we are on the same page about this."

"The page that reads, marry her and then get her pregnant?" she asked with a bit of a laugh in it. "Not on our honeymoon night, okay?"

His face went into a grimace. "No. I'm just saying that… when the time is right… if you wish to proceed…" he stopped and sighed. "I'd support you in any way… sorry. Not very good at this."

Louisa leaned over and kissed his cheek, then wiped away the lipstick mark she'd left on him. "Oh Martin… when the time is right, I suppose." She smiled, then dropped her voice into the base register, "To proceed with reproduction."

He nodded slightly. "Good. That is…" He glanced at his watch. "Heavens! Look at the time!" He dropped her hands, pushed his door open and barged out. Running around the car, he assisted Louisa to her feet and handed her her veil. "We'd better get to it."

Louisa caught her breath, attached the veil on top of her hair and asked him, "How do I look?"

Martin gulped. "Beautiful. Gorgeous." Angelic, he thought, but he could not speak that word.

She touched his tie to straighten it. "You as well. Handsome, Martin. Very, very handsome." She took his elbow. "Come on then. Nervous?"

He nodded licking dry lips. "Yes."

"Me too. Now, let's go."

At the open front door of the church, they could hear Mr. Porter now speaking loudly, something about the idea that if people could be more like pigs, which were calm and wonderful beasts, the world would be a better place.

Martin wrinkled his nose. "The man is mad about pigs…"

"Well, all the same, he's going to marry us." Louisa smiled at him. "See you up there."

Martin took a last look at Louisa Glasson, head teacher of Portwenn School, and soon to be Louisa Ellingham. "Fine." He disengaged Louisa's hand from his arm, squeezed her hand briefly, shot his cuffs, and then strode up the side aisle of the sanctuary.

Mr. Porter was just starting to get into his oratory stride, all to keep the congregants in their seats. When he spied Martin marching towards him and at the back of the church, a figure all in white. Blast he needed to get his cataracts fixed! He smiled grimly when Martin stopped in front of him. "See you made it after all. I had my doubts," he told him.

Martin bristled. "We're here now." He looked back over his shoulder and saw Pauline now standing by Louisa, but apparently adjusting the veil. "Both of us."

Porter squinted, to cut down the glare from the open door at the back of the sanctuary. "Yes, I see." He tipped his head. "You are going through with it?"

"Yes, yes!" Martin started to boil over. "Get on with it, will you?"

Porter sighed. "Your funeral," he whispered to Martin, then turned to his right, gave a little wave to Mrs. Tishell, and she began to play 'Canon in D by Pachelbel.'

Porter stood up straighter and addressed the throng, with a smile, that he did not feel in his heart. "Dearly beloved, please be upstanding. The bride is finally arriving."

Martin turned around, feeling sweat break out in his armpits, to see an angel slowly approaching him. The church, the music, and the people all were forced from his awareness, for all he could perceive in heart and mind was Louisa slowly coming towards him.