The Clairvoyants(46)
The notary’s eyes widened in alarm, but the wife stepped alongside me and looped her arm in mine and gave it a squeeze. When I looked down at her, she smiled up at me warmly, her eyes filled with her own tears. She might have been fearful we would call it all off and they would lose the honorarium we were expected to provide, but at the time I felt she understood my sadness and my loss as something universal to all brides. The man said the few words required by law, and I verbally agreed, and William did the same, our voices sounding strange and foreign in the little office. William slid the rings we purchased that morning, plain gold bands, onto our respective fingers, and kissed me gently on the lips, embarrassed maybe, in front of these strangers. My signature on the required documents looked like my second-grade cursive, and I fought the urge to cross through it and try again.
*
DEL CAME UP to the apartment the next morning. She never came by in the morning. It was as if she knew about the ceremony and wanted to verify it for herself. She still had on the black dress and black tights she’d worn to the funeral. William had gone out—kissing me on the mouth before he left, a quick press of his lips.
“That’s a married person’s kiss,” I said, and he laughed but offered nothing more.
“I’m late,” he said. “If I kiss you I won’t make the meeting.”
Del came in after he’d gone and sat in the duck-carved chair. “Oh, so sad,” she said. “Anne was there. She looked so frail and weak.”
“You didn’t have to go,” I said. “It’s not like you knew her.”
Would Del see anything out of place in the apartment, some evidence of the marriage? Laundry lay piled on the bed, and I pulled out one of William’s shirts to fold. I felt strung tight with my news, unsure how to share it.
“Her mother asked about William,” Del said. “She asked how he was doing. I don’t think she likes him much.”
“You talked to the mother?”
“We went to the house after—to Mary Rae’s mother’s house. Just us, Alice and everyone.”
“Why wouldn’t she like him?” I said. “Because they broke up years ago?”
Del seemed thoughtful. “I don’t know,” she said. “Where is he?”
I buttoned William’s shirt up the front and folded it like a shirt in a department store display. “He had to go out. A meeting or something.”
Del squinted at me. “Well, we were supposed to go back to Anne’s, but then she canceled. Said she was too tired.”
“Do the police know how she died?” I asked Del. “How she got there to the trailer?”
“Officer Paul was there at the funeral,” she said. “He’s not so bad when he’s not in his uniform.” She raised her eyebrows at me, and I laughed.
Del pushed herself out of the chair. “We’re going back to Mary Rae’s mother’s house today,” she said. “She wants us to have Mary Rae’s clothes. To go through and see if we want anything.”
“That’s weird,” I said.
“No more weird than how you’re folding that shirt,” Del said. “You should come with us.”
Maybe she’d seen my wedding ring right away and had simply refrained from mentioning it. She walked over to the kitchen area and pulled open the refrigerator. “Remember when we used to buy boxes of Cracker Jack and dump them out because we only wanted the ring prize?”
I held my hand out. “It’s real,” I said, a little ashamed of the emotion in my voice. “We got married.”
Del shut the refrigerator door and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re kidding me,” she said. “Right?”
Her eyes were wide, but something about her stance, her expression, made me wary. It was as if she were merely acting surprised, as if she had known about the wedding and was waiting for me to tell her so she could pretend to doubt me.
“You don’t really seem surprised,” I said.
“I don’t?” Del cried. “Seriously? This is a huge surprise to me.”
We stared at each other, and I could see Del holding her surprised expression, waiting for a cue to let it drop.
“What do you think?” I said. “Why don’t you say congratulations?”
“Congratulations!” Del said. “I guess. If that’s what you want.”
“Yes, it’s what I want. I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t.”
“Then wonderful,” Del said. “Perfect timing.”
“What do you mean by that?” I said.
“I mean you timed it so well, right on the day of a funeral.”
“I didn’t know that girl,” I said, but I did know her, and she was part of it all, in some strange way.
Del and I stood in the middle of my bedsit, watching each other.
“So are you going to come with us to her mother’s house?” she said. “Mrs. Bell?”
I smoothed the shirt I’d folded on the bed. “Maybe,” I said.
Randy picked us up an hour later, his red Firebird like a tropical fish at the dirty curb.
Del opened the passenger door and held the seat up so I could climb in back. Alice was there, wedged into the corner, as if afraid of being in close proximity to me. She and Randy had had little time to express their irritation about my presence before Del opened the car door.