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Fiction 3 - The Engagement
"Let's elope." Chris said, just as I was reaching for the phone.
I smiled at him, stretched out across the bottom of the bed. He lay his head against my ankle and started tracing outlines on my shin. An intermittent breeze from the oscillating fan on my nightstand ruffled his hair and gave both of us relief from an unseasonably humid June morning.
"Can't I tell my mother we got engaged?" I asked, nudging his head gently with my foot. "You know she'd love to be at the wedding."
He drew spirals and loops on my skin, smiled, said nothing.
I picked up the receiver of probably the last rotary-dial phone in existence and fit my finger into each of the little holes that combine to make my mother's number. The phone had sat stubbornly in my father's bedroom for twenty years, his quiet rebellion against technology, and now sat out its final days, just as stubbornly, in mine. The clear plastic dial spun around in jagged staccato; ten numbers, including area code, my own way of sharing the news with him.
The line rang six times, and knowing my mother's aversion to answering devices of any kind, would ring on indefinitely if I let it. I was about to hang up when the line clicked and a familiar female voice answered, sounding irritated but polite.
"Caroline?" I asked, half-hoping I was wrong. "Hi…it's Daphne."
"Daphne!" she sang, with the same jubilant breathlessness she greeted everyone with. "We haven't heard from you in ages, how are you?"
"Fine…" I couldn't conceal the puzzlement in my voice. "Is my mother home?"
"No, no, Dad and Valerie have gone up to the cottage for a couple of weeks. You just caught us, actually, Stacey and I just popped in to get the mail and make sure the cat doesn't starve, that sort of thing."
Stacey and Caroline. Sisters foisted on me too late in life for me to feel anything other than diluted familial courtesy. Women I wouldn't even talk to in the lunchroom at work were it not for our connection by marriage. But I had always liked their father, and adored my mother, and so had tried, often, to warm to them. As I was trying now.
"Well, I have some news." I said, biting my lip. "I wanted to let mom know."
"You're pregnant."
"No." I laughed. "Not that."
"You are! Get out of town, you're pregnant, I can tell."
"No, I am not pregnant." I said. Chris pretended to pop his eyes out in shock, like a cartoon character would do. "Sorry."
"Well what, then?"
"I'm getting married."
"What? Oh, Daff, that's wonderful." She shrilled, and I held the phone away from my ear. "God, what wonderful news. I was just thinking the other day how - oh wait, hold on, Stacey's just come in from the garden… Stace." She called out. "Stacey, get in here. Get on the extension in the kitchen, Daphne's getting married. Yes…yes, Daphne. Go on, pick up, she's on the phone now. Daff, you still there? Stacey's here, she wants to talk to you too-"
The phone clicked. "Daphne?" Stacey's whispery voice greeted me. "You're getting married? Really?"
"Yes."
"God, congratulations! Now I'm practically the only old maid left."
"Stace, you're twenty-four." Caroline admonished. "Now, shut up, let Daphne talk. So when did he propose, I want to hear all about it."
"Well…" I never imagined people would be so interested in such a private moment. "Last week. Over dinner"
"Ooh, I bet it was real romantic."
"Yes." I smiled at him. "It was."
"So what does the ring look like?" Stacey asked. "How many carats?"
I paused. "Actually, I didn't want a ring. Not a diamond, anyway. We're just going to buy matching gold bands and-
"No ring?" Caroline interrupted. "You've got to be kidding. Who gets engaged without a ring?"
"I don't need a ring." I found myself explaining. "I just don't see the point in buying expensive jewelry to celebrate something as…transient… as an engagement. Look, I just wanted to let mom know-"
"I think he must have talked her out of it." Stacey said, apparently to Caroline. "A lot of guys are too cheap to spring for a diamond. My friend Nicole had to fight for a quarter carat, can you believe it?"
"Well Daphne, I'm very happy for you, of course. But you really should have something." Caroline continued.
"You know, something to show off until the wedding. Otherwise you won't feel engaged."
"I don't need to feel engaged." I laughed. "Besides, we're getting married in two months so it hardly-"
"Two months?" they echoed.
"Yes…late August."
"Oh, Daff." Caroline laughed. "It's obvious you've never been married before. You can't possibly plan a decent wedding in two months. What were you thinking?"
"She's right, a decent wedding needs a year, minimum." Stacey added. "What if you made it next August?"
"But we don't want a big wedding." I said. "There's a beautiful beach near here, we're going to bring a Justice of the Peace out and get married there. There really isn't anything to plan."
Chris tapped my ankle. When I looked down at him he smiled and mouthed the words "Let's elope." I wiggled my toes against his ear to tickle him.
"But what about the bridesmaid's dresses?" Stacey asked. "We won't have time for all the fittings if you only give us two months."
"I'm not having bridesmaids." I said, feeling exasperation begin to crawl over me. "It's just a simple wedding. No big production, just a nice, simple ceremony on the beach."
"Daphne." Caroline said firmly, the sage voice of reason. "Daphne, honey, how long have you been with this guy? Two years?"
"Nearly, yes. Why?"
"Well honey, don't you think you're entitled to a big bang-up wedding for having been kept waiting so long?"
"So long? Two years is hardly-"
"Look, you'll regret it, I promise you. If it was your second or third marriage, maybe, but your first wedding is the one where you go all out, you know that."
"This will be my first and only wedding, Caroline." I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. "I only plan on being married once."
"Don't we all, honey. Look, our dad's been married four times, it's no big deal these days. I just want you to think practically."
"I am thinking practically. I think being married is more important than getting married, and I couldn't care less about a big ridiculous wedding."
The other end grew cold with an awkward silence. Emotional bride, their silence seemed to say. Let's just be patient until she calms down and comes to her senses.
"Listen, why don't you have mom give me a call when she gets back." I suggested, softening my voice to a more sisterly timbre. "Maybe we can get together next month, the four of us, and figure out a nice restaurant for the dinner afterward. How does that sound?"
Chris mimed a particularly gruesome choking session, and rolled himself off the bed in mock agony. He landed with a thump on the hardwood floor.
"Chris." I whispered, holding the phone against my neck. "Are you okay?"
He surfaced along the side of the bed, blew his hair out of his face. "Let's elope."
Tinny voices beckoned to me and I put the phone back to my ear. "Yes, I'm still here, Caroline. What were you saying?"
"Well, we were just saying that you can at least let us throw you some terrific showers if you're going to be such a smudge about the wedding. We'll have one ourselves, and then of course we'll have to contact his family – he has a mother, doesn't he? - to find out when she wants to hold hers. And – oh! - we know the absolute most perfect place for the Jack and Jill, don't we Stace?"
"You mean that place with the windmill?"
"No, the hall where Julie Muldoon had hers, you know the one."
"Oh, right, of course. Hey, that's perfect, lots of room."
"Jack and Jill?" I asked.
"Yes, you know…the co-ed shower. It'll be so much fun, you'll love it." said Stacey.
"And it's perfect in case he starts making any noise about wanting a stag." Caroline laughed. "Just tell him that's what the Jack and Jill is for, he won't have a leg to stand on. Oh, and I can even get the tickets printed at work."
"Tickets?" I heard the incredulity in my voice.
Chris began to laugh, silently, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. I knocked him with my outstretched leg, but he ignored me. He stood up slowly, ran his hand lazily along the length of my leg and left the room.
Caroline was still talking. "…and I think ten bucks a pop is reasonable, since most people come in pairs and that'll mean twenty per couple. And I know someone who can set up a crown and anchor wheel that we can rig so that the Daphne and Chris Fund grows even faster-"
"Caroline, Caroline." I interrupted. "Look, I appreciate your help but we don't want any kind of…fundraiser, or whatever it is."
"Oh come on, let your friends give you a bit of money. Everybody does it."
"But, we don't want any money. I mean…selling tickets to a shower…it just seems so…mercenary."
"Mercenary?" Caroline sighed. "Oh, Stacey what are we going to do with her?"
"We just want to help you, Daphne." Stacey said softly. "We're very happy for you, we want you to have a wonderful day."
"I know you do, you're very sweet." I said, and almost meant it. "But it isn't necessary. Chris and I have talked about it, we know what we'd like to do. We'd just like to have a simple, elegant little wedding."
"Well, it's your day, of course." Caroline said airily. "Do whatever you want, don't give your family a second thought."
"Caroline-"
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Seriously, do whatever will make you happy."
"Thank you." I said, feeling oddly grateful to them for letting me plan my wedding. "We will."
"Have you picked out a dress yet?" Caroline's cheeriness slipped into sarcasm. "Or am I offending you by suggesting you might want to wear a dress?"
"Yes, I've got a dress," I sailed past it, accustomed as I was to ignoring rudeness. "Chris bought if for me last year, it's a really pretty cream silk. It's just a little slip dress, but it's so comfortable and pretty, I thought it would be perfect."
Chris appeared in the doorway, his hand buried in a jumbo bag of Smarties. He came forward and sat on the edge of the bed while he popped the little candies into his mouth.
"So I guess flowers are out then too?" Stacey asked timidly. "Or is a bouquet alright with you?"
"I've always liked daisies." I replied. "I thought I'd just carry a bunch of fresh daisies." I paused, caressed Chris' back with my foot. "I might even be able to convince Chris to wear a daisy boutonniere."
"Well, a word of advice." Caroline said. "If you let him pick out his own tuxedo, it'll be hideous. Men have no taste. And for God's sake don't let him write his own vows. You're likely to get thees and thines and everlasting blah blah blah. You should write out his vows for him so he doesn't embarrass you."
"He never embarrasses me." I said. "And besides, we're going to say the traditional vows."
Chris turned around and climbed over my legs, shaking the bed and scattering brightly coloured candies all over us. The bag ripped and a sugary rainbow spilled out, so he sat back on his knees and started gathering up them up.
"Well, if you have any say in the matter at all, have the minister say "I now pronounce you 'husband and wife'." Caroline continued. "Not like at Melanie Richardson's wedding, when the guy blurts out "I now pronounce you man and wife". I've never heard anything so sexist in my life."
"She also promised to obey him, remember, Caroline?" Stacey put in. "I think they're religious, that's why." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Episcopalian."
"I thought we would just have the JP say "I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Stratford." I said. "It's a little different, but nice."
The line went quiet again, and for a moment I thought we had been disconnected. "Hello? Caroline?"
"Mrs. Stratford?" Caroline asked. "Are you serious?"
"Of course…" I sighed. "Why, what's wrong with that?"
"You're not seriously thinking of changing your name?"
"Well, yes. I like the idea of being Mrs. Stratford."
Chris nudged my leg. When I looked over at him he pointed to the candies on the bed beside me. He had arranged them to spell out two words: Let's Elope.
I laughed, scooped up a handful of them and threw them at him. He tried to catch them in his mouth, but they bounced off the bed and scattered on the floor.
"It's just so...medieval, Daphne." said Caroline. "I mean, marrying him is one thing. But do you have to give up your name, too?"
"It's not medieval." I said. "It's nice. I'm not insecure enough to think my whole identity hinges on my last name."
"Now I never said that." Caroline said defensively. "I just think a modern woman should think carefully about giving up her name so easily. It can seem like he owns you or something."
"It's just a nice thing a woman can do." I countered. "It shows him I love him. It shows the world I'm an adult woman who chooses to honour the man I married instead of the man I was born to."
"Honey, don't ever "honour" a man, it'll go straight to his head. You take his name and he thinks you belong to him. Six months down the road you'll be washing his underwear and finding phone numbers in his pants pockets and the whole nine yards. Believe me, I've been there."
"It's just such a pain." Stacey said fretfully. "Changing all your i.d. and everything. And then if you get divorced you just have to change it all back. It's such a mess. Besides, people will think you're more confident if you keep your name. Show them you don't belong to any man."
"Except my father." I added. "It's okay if I keep his name? It's okay for a thirty year-old to still belong to her father?"
"Daphne, please, don't get all hostile. I just thought you of all people would appreciate how far the women's movement has come. Marriage is not nearly the fairy tale it used to be, you know."
"And I wonder why."
"What?"
"Nothing." I sighed. "Look, girls, do you really care what name I take?"
"Of course not." Caroline sang. "Call yourself Mrs. Joe Blow if you want, I'm just trying to give you the benefit of my experience."
"You could hyphenate." Stacey said brightly. "That's a compromise you can live with, isn't it? A lot of actresses do it, it's quite fashionable."
"I'm sure it is, and I'm sure it suits some people just fine." I said, adjusting the phone as Chris snuggled in beside me and lay his head in my lap. I stroked his hair as it fluttered in the breeze from the fan. "Look, is there some reason I can't change my name, or have a small wedding if I want?"
"Oh, Daphne, I can hear that petulance in your voice again," Caroline began. You are the hardest person to talk to sometimes. We're only trying to help."
I glanced at the phone beside me. "Caroline, sorry, you're breaking up." I said, tugging on the line that wound it's way from the phone to the wall jack. "I can barely hear you. I've got Dad's old phone, it must have a loose wire or something."
"Oh...okay. Jeez, Daphne, why don't you get a new phone? You know they have these new-"
"What?" I shouted. "Stacey? Caroline?" And I ripped the cord from the wall.
I put the receiver back on the hook and sighed. Chris looked at me expectantly, smiling as angelically as anyone can who reserves the right to say I told you so.
I bent, and kissed his forehead. "Let's elope."
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