taking my hand. “I’m really just an old friend of his dad’s, but still, I get final approval.” He pushed back his cap and smiled with perfect teeth. “So you’re the lovely Julie Knott. Pleased to finally meet you in the flesh. You’re even prettier in person.” He winked. “Which means I approve.”
I liked him immediately. “Why, thank you, Uncle Jinks,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You say the sweetest things.”
“You couldn’t be getting a better husband, and that’s the truth,” he said earnestly. “Though my boy seems to be caught in a bit of a time warp.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, slanting Andy a glance. “He’s positively medieval.”
Uncle Jinks laughed. “Boy, if that don’t fit. Because just like his dad, he’s—”
“Jinks,” Andy interjected, “isn’t that your phone ringing?”
“Bobby!” his ersatz uncle yelled to a young man stacking oil filters. “Get the phone! Bobby! Hey!” He scowled. “Oh, he’s had it.” He looked to Andy. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
I watched Jinks trot off to the garage. “What’s he talking about?”
“That kid,” Andy said. “If it isn’t his phone, it’s his iPod.”
“No, I meant about—”
“The municipal building is right across the street,” he said, turning toward it. “They’re only open until noon today. We better go. Jinks will catch up.”
I looked over my shoulder; he was already starting back. Whatever Andy’s uncle had implied, I’d have to ask him later.
Applying for a marriage license in New Jersey was a rather simple affair. All we needed was ID, our social security numbers, Uncle Jinks as witness and twenty-eight dollars. Andy signed, I signed, Jinks signed, Andy paid, and the next thing I knew I was one step closer to strapping myself to this stranger for life. At least in theory. I was cross-my-heart sure it was the craziest thing I had ever done, and I’d more than a few times come close to the asylum. I thought of the journalists who had gone deep, like John Howard Griffin in Black Like Me , Gloria Steinem in “I was a Playboy Bunny” or Barbara Ehrenreich in Nickel and Dimed . Was my story of a utility pole bride just as worthy as those first-person narratives? I glanced at Andy as he walked me to my car.
I certainly hoped so.
“Well,” he said, squinting from the sun, “that was easy.”
Why did he look so much bigger in broad daylight? “I should be going. I have lots to do.” I tapped my purse. “And read. I’ll call you if I have any questions.”
“Just leave a message with Uncle Jinks.”
“Because you don’t have a phone? Why is that?”
He shrugged. “You’d be surprised what you can live without. And with.”
And with whom . When we got to my car he opened the door; I rolled down the window after he shut it. “Well, I guess I’ll see you—”
“Tuesday, right here. Shall we say, three o’clock?”
Not before then? I pulled the manila envelope from my purse. “How about this?”
“Bring it with you when you come. It’s pretty cut-and-dried, as long as you agree with it.” Then he leaned in, his fingers wrapped around the door. “Thank you, Julie. See you Tuesday.” And with a tap on the roof, he left.
As long as you agree with it . To living in the woods. To marrying a stranger. To having his baby. My God!
Then it hit me like a head-on collision: this tall, dark, and handsome French throwback-to-the-nineteenth century was my fiancé . With one breakfast as courtship, with no engagement ring, with his only endorsement from another stranger, I was actually going to marry him? I fell back in my seat, watching him walk away. He hadn’t even touched me, not once. I closed my eyes, remembering to breathe.
It really was a business arrangement, wasn’t it?
Chapter Five
----
Here Comes the Bride
I DON’T KNOW what I had expected, but it probably wasn’t being stood up again. Truly, who would think lightning would strike the same
I liked him immediately. “Why, thank you, Uncle Jinks,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You say the sweetest things.”
“You couldn’t be getting a better husband, and that’s the truth,” he said earnestly. “Though my boy seems to be caught in a bit of a time warp.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, slanting Andy a glance. “He’s positively medieval.”
Uncle Jinks laughed. “Boy, if that don’t fit. Because just like his dad, he’s—”
“Jinks,” Andy interjected, “isn’t that your phone ringing?”
“Bobby!” his ersatz uncle yelled to a young man stacking oil filters. “Get the phone! Bobby! Hey!” He scowled. “Oh, he’s had it.” He looked to Andy. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
I watched Jinks trot off to the garage. “What’s he talking about?”
“That kid,” Andy said. “If it isn’t his phone, it’s his iPod.”
“No, I meant about—”
“The municipal building is right across the street,” he said, turning toward it. “They’re only open until noon today. We better go. Jinks will catch up.”
I looked over my shoulder; he was already starting back. Whatever Andy’s uncle had implied, I’d have to ask him later.
Applying for a marriage license in New Jersey was a rather simple affair. All we needed was ID, our social security numbers, Uncle Jinks as witness and twenty-eight dollars. Andy signed, I signed, Jinks signed, Andy paid, and the next thing I knew I was one step closer to strapping myself to this stranger for life. At least in theory. I was cross-my-heart sure it was the craziest thing I had ever done, and I’d more than a few times come close to the asylum. I thought of the journalists who had gone deep, like John Howard Griffin in Black Like Me , Gloria Steinem in “I was a Playboy Bunny” or Barbara Ehrenreich in Nickel and Dimed . Was my story of a utility pole bride just as worthy as those first-person narratives? I glanced at Andy as he walked me to my car.
I certainly hoped so.
“Well,” he said, squinting from the sun, “that was easy.”
Why did he look so much bigger in broad daylight? “I should be going. I have lots to do.” I tapped my purse. “And read. I’ll call you if I have any questions.”
“Just leave a message with Uncle Jinks.”
“Because you don’t have a phone? Why is that?”
He shrugged. “You’d be surprised what you can live without. And with.”
And with whom . When we got to my car he opened the door; I rolled down the window after he shut it. “Well, I guess I’ll see you—”
“Tuesday, right here. Shall we say, three o’clock?”
Not before then? I pulled the manila envelope from my purse. “How about this?”
“Bring it with you when you come. It’s pretty cut-and-dried, as long as you agree with it.” Then he leaned in, his fingers wrapped around the door. “Thank you, Julie. See you Tuesday.” And with a tap on the roof, he left.
As long as you agree with it . To living in the woods. To marrying a stranger. To having his baby. My God!
Then it hit me like a head-on collision: this tall, dark, and handsome French throwback-to-the-nineteenth century was my fiancé . With one breakfast as courtship, with no engagement ring, with his only endorsement from another stranger, I was actually going to marry him? I fell back in my seat, watching him walk away. He hadn’t even touched me, not once. I closed my eyes, remembering to breathe.
It really was a business arrangement, wasn’t it?
Chapter Five
----
Here Comes the Bride
I DON’T KNOW what I had expected, but it probably wasn’t being stood up again. Truly, who would think lightning would strike the same
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