Sunday, April 6, 2008

A tough time to wed (Pt. 4)

So, having relinquished my say in the venue, it soon became apparent that Marcie was not sure when and where she wanted to marry. She vacillated between Vegas and the chapel in Hillcrest until the last few days.

"Silver Bells," she said one Sunday morning as we enjoyed roasted potatoes and eggs. "Silver Bells wedding chapel is where we will get married."

I nodded and smiled, continuing my morning repast. "So that's up in Hillcrest?" I asked, casually prodding her to let out some of her excitement.

I looked up when the fork clattered on her plate. She folded her arms across her breasts and bit her lower lip, leaning down onto the table.

"No, Frank," she said, shaking her head. "No, this is the chapel in Las Vegas i was telling you about for the last two weeks."

However, for that last two weeks I had been working at a feverish pace, desperately trying to save some money for some gifts, to gamble with, anything. I was essentially a zombie.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'm just really tired," I offered.

She was very sad and upset looking, and she reached across the table and took my hand. "Do you wanty me to cancel everything, honey?" she asked, biting her lip again, shaking her head.

"I don't want to force you, because you'll just end up hating me," she said. "So, if you're not sure about this, or you're not ready, we can wait."

I pulled my hand away and wiped my mouth, then stood up, bewildered. I had no idea where this could go and did not want to know.

"Honey, that is the second time you offered to call it off," I said. What are you trying to tell me? Are YOU having second thoughts?"

She glared.

"I want to marry you, but I cannot keep up with your changing ideas and you don't tell me anything, or you tell me than I say something you don't like."

"You could show some interest, you know," she said. "God, it's like I am dragging you to the altar, Frank. It's totally humiliating."

I did not hug her this time, but took my plate, dumped it in the trash and left the apartment. As I began walking, she drove up and pulled over in front of me.

"Frank, god damn it, get in the car," she said.

I sighed and hopped in, and that was likely the worst mistake to date. She drove us around the neighborhood as she laid into me for every little thing she thought I was doing wrong by not doing them.

I had no doubt I wanted to marry her, but was beginning to dread what married life might end up like for me.