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My mind fills with a heady elation, not unlike the climax we’ve just experienced. “Yeah?” I ask.
Sophia giggles again, though I’m not sure whether it’s at the breathlessness of my voice, or the absurdity of it all, agreeing to marry someone you hardly know.
Though I feel like I do know her, and what’s more, I feel like I want to know everything there is to know about her. I’ve never met a woman I’d be willing to change my habits for. However, if I need to cut back on my work hours, or let her take on some of the work—so she can feel a part of my life—I could bend my habits to suit her needs, which was never something I thought I’d want to do for anyone.
“Yeah,” Sophia says. “If you want.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I’d be honored to have you as my wife, Sophia. And I’d promise to make you happy for the rest of your life if you allowed me to.”
She props herself up on her hands and kisses me again, and my head is swimming with the delicious presence of Sophia, the woman I’m in love with, the woman I want in my life until the end of my days. I smile against her lips. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.
I think Sophia agrees, because she sits up on top of me, her knees on either side of my hips, and soon I’m recovering, and then we’re moving together, making love all over again.
And I never, ever want it to stop.
I call my mother from the bedroom the next morning, while Sophia is poking through my dresser and making room for her things from the other room. She has boxes in Ireland, she says, but not many, and I give her my credit card so she can arrange to have them sent over as soon as possible. My whole body is sore from yesterday afternoon, and last night, and this morning, but we’re both buzzing around with this high that I know comes from being together.
And the prospect that it isn’t going to end.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when she answers from her hospital room. Her voice sounds hoarse, but she also sounds alert, which is good, I suppose, but also makes her more likely to question what I’m about to tell her.
“Sophia and I have decided to get married,” I say. “We could plan a big thing, but I really want you to be there, so we were thinking maybe we’d do something small. In the hospital chapel, even. We could be married this week, so you’ll still be in good health.”
God, I’m babbling. She’s going to suspect that this isn’t a typical situation, and then she’s going to figure it out, and think that this whole thing is a trick or some sleazy thing I’m doing for sex when nothing could be further from the truth.
I think Sophia senses my nervousness—not hard since she heard my babbling—and she moves toward me and takes my hand. She’s dressed, which is a pity, while I’m wearing nothing but my boxers, but holding her hand feels natural, and it’s comforting. I wonder where all the awkwardness has gone.
“Really?” Mom says. “So you’re in love with her?”
“Yes,” I say matter-of-factly. My palms start to sweat. Sophia still hasn’t said it back, though I suppose that saying she wants to get married was a pretty big admission, so maybe I shouldn’t worry, but I do anyway.
“I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else,” I say, and Sophia smiles up at me, though there’s some hesitation in her eyes. She’s nervous about something, too, though I’m not entirely sure what it is.
“That’s wonderful,” Mom says. “Though I’d hate to deprive her of a beautiful wedding. Maybe we could go halfway and plan something nice next month. I can leave the hospital for one day.”
I take a deep breath. Sophia and I can’t wait that long; we barely have weeks before she’ll need to leave the country if she’s not married to a US citizen. Besides, I’m not sure that my mother’s health is going to hold that long, even if she thinks so.
I don’t want to tell her that. I’m half-thinking that if Mom insists on this, we can plan a wedding next month and just go to a courthouse between now and then. It’s not like my mother would have to know.
“I don’t know, Mom,” I say. “I don’t think either of us is the big wedding type. We’d really rather get married on Sunday if that’s alright with you.”
“Hmm,” Mom says. “You’ve always been an impatient one, but I’m certainly not going to tell you no.”
I smile. We have plenty of time to find some clothes to wear—not full wedding attire, perhaps, but something nice.
“Thanks, Mom. I’m so glad you’re going to be there,” I tell her, and I mean it with my full heart.
Mom laughs. “Well if you’re coming to me, I hardly have a choice!” I can tell from her tone that she’s happy. We chat for a few more minutes—she has a lot more questions about Sophia now that she’s going to be her daughter-in-law, and I manage to get through those okay. And then we say goodbye, and I hang up the phone.
Sophia smiles up at me, but she still seems nervous.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
She looks surprised. “Of course. It’s what we talked about, isn’t it? And we hardly have time to plan anything big, and besides that, who would we invite?”
I laugh. “My mom’s garden club and her quilting group. Maybe the ranger who hauled off the bear?”
