Tales of the City 04 - Babycakes

came.
They held on to each other for a long time, sobbing. Finally, he said: “We tried to reach you.”
“I know.”
“He sent you his love. He said to give you that turquoise ring you liked.”
“Oh, God, Mouse!”
“I know. It’s a bitch. I know.”
“Was he in much pain?”
“Some. For a while. Not always. He was wonderful, really. He cracked jokes and did his Tallulah Bankhead impersonation … and flirted with the orderlies.”
“That tart.” She swiped at her cheeks.
“They loved it, of course, since he was a doctor and knew all the inside dish. It wasn’t so bad, Mona. Not all the time. We got much closer to him … to each other. You don’t really know for certain about a family until somebody dies. You don’t know anything until that happens.”
She pulled away from him. “And you weren’t going to tell me.”
“Why do you think I’ve chased you across England?”
“I don’t know. To punish me, I guess. To make me feel like shit. Your usual motives.”
“You’re wrong”—he smiled—”and you’re missing your wedding.”
“In a fucking minute.”
“Yes, ma ’am.”
“I want to know something.”
“What?”
“Do we … still love each other?”
“Mona …”
“Because I love you, you little shithead … and if you think you can pretend that I don’t, you can just go fuck yourself!” He was touched. He smiled at her.
“O.K.,” she added, “I should’ve called or something. You’re right about that. Obviously I should’ve called. And I shouldn’t have run from you that day on the heath….”
“Why did you do that, anyway?”
She looked away. “I dunno … I was a little uncomfortable about the whole thing … and this man from the Home Office was with us … and I knew that introductions would be awkward. I figured I could write you about it later.”
“It looked like you were looking for somebody.”
“I was,” she replied. “Teddy.”
“I thought you said he was with you.”
“Well, he was earlier. The three of us had lunch together at this inn on the heath. Teddy just wandered away. You can’t take the man near bushes of any kind.”
He smiled.
“If you think that’s funny, you should’ve heard me explaining it to the Home Office.”
He gave her a hug. “I’m all right. Go get married.”
“You haven’t answered me,” she said.
“What?”
“Do you love me?”
He smiled at her. “I do.”
“Will you come to the wedding?”
“I think I’d like to stay here for a while. Do you mind?”
She threw up her hands. “Hey … no big deal.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Come to the reception, though. I’ve got a little surprise for you.”
“What?”
“Just come, Mouse.”
“Well, my clothes aren’t exactly …”
“Look, the fucking bride has mud on her shoes. You’ll look just fine.” She left the folly and hoisted her skirts, beginning the perilous descent.
“I don’t like surprises,” he shouted.
“You’ll like this one,” she yelled back. “You’d better.”
“Where’s the reception?”
“In the great hall.” She hit another mole hole and cursed again.
“Break a leg,” he called. “Fuck you,” she answered.
The glow of her old familiar roar kept him warm. He sat there in the meadow-scented darkness of the folly for another half hour until the final chords of the organ had rolled away down the vale like summer thunder. Then he got up, brushed off the seat of his Levi’s, and headed slowly down the slope.
He entered Easley House through the kitchen, making his way toward the sound of the reception. There were several dozen people in the great hall, already nattering away to the music of a string quartet. Champagne was being dispensed at a long table in the alcove next to the window.
“Hey, mate!” Wilfred came wriggling through the crowd.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Where were you?”
“Up at the folly.”
“Are you O.K.?”
“Sure. Great.”
“The wedding was super.”
“Good. Mona says there’s gonna be a surprise.”
The kid glanced at him. “You know already?”
“Know what?”
Wilfred giggled. “You won’t get it from me, mate.”
“Now, just a …”
“I’ll get us some champagne. Hang on.” He darted away again. While he was gone, Michael struck up a conversation with a nice old man who turned out to be the gardener. His name was Hargis, and they talked in earnest about flowers. Michael liked that about England; men were allowed to be earnest about flowers.
When Wilfred returned with the champagne, he