A Dangerous Age Read Online Free Page B

then I decided just to hold his hand until the chaplain came.
    “W E’LL BE ABLE to give our parents copies of the video,” I told him later that night when I was broaching the idea of making our wedding into a career move. “And Brian doesn’t have to be filmed at all if he doesn’t want it. Winifred said it’s all right with her. Do you think it’s tacky? It is tacky. I’ll admit that. But our parents might appreciate it.”
    “Mother knows something’s going on. She keeps giving me looks.”
    “Mine’s calling every day. Your mother’s talking to Aunt Helen and she’s calling my mother and they’re buzzing with it. Maybe we should go on and tell them and let them come.”
    “Whatever you want to do.” Carl was watching a basketball game while we were having this conversation. I am marrying a man who watches thirty hours of sports a week and I do not care. My intellectual life is in the can for the time being and I think it’s funny. Right now I think everything is funny. I’m happy. I’m the Mad Hatter of happiness. I’m even starting to like Carl’s music, since it’s clear he isn’t ever going to want to listen to mine.
    “I want to get married this coming Saturday if the cinematographer can come then.”
    “The chaplain said he’d do it whenever we want to.”
    “Call and ask him if Saturday morning is good. And I’ll call Rafael.”
    “Look at this replay, Louise. Look at that foul. My God, they should kick that guy out of the game. He almost broke the other guy’s nose.”
    “Would you call him now?”
    “It’s almost the half. Can I wait until then?”
    W E GOT THINGS set up for Saturday morning at eleven. Thursday Brian took a turn for the worse and had to be put on an antibiotic drip, but he kept saying he still wanted us to have the wedding, so we pressed on. He could talk and he could swallow, and his chin was starting to look like a chin again, even if half of it was titanium, with some plastic pieces, soon to be covered with skin from his own derriere.
    I was getting the beginnings of morning sickness, which had allayed my giddiness to some extent, but not the euphoria. The euphoria was intact.
    W INIFRED’S MOTHER , Helen Hand Abadie, had a telephone in each hand. With her right hand she was trying to reach Winifred’s cell phone with her cell phone. Her left hand held the receiver to the land phone, on which she was talking to her sister, Louise. If Winifred answered, she could put Louise on hold.
    “I don’t know what Little Louise is doing,” Louise began. “She hasn’t asked her daddy for money in months. I know she doesn’t have a job. So are you and Spencer paying for all this, this duplex and everything? I don’t want you supporting ourchild, Helen, even if you can afford it. I want her to get a job with a salary if she’s never getting married. She can’t just live from hand to mouth forever.”
    “A lot of them are doing that now,” Helen answered. “I think what you should be worried about is her dating that young boy. Winifred just barely admits it, but I know that’s what is going on.”
    “You told me that last week. I don’t care about that. She couldn’t take that seriously. She only dates men in the film business. I think she’s pretty calculating about it, Helen. That’s the worry I have. That she only goes out with men to help her career. I don’t know how we came to this. Not one of the girls is married. None of them have children. We had a chance and then Winifred’s fiancé died and now I guess they all think falling in love is bad luck.”
    “Many times it
is
bad luck.”
    “Oh, my. Well, at least none of ours have tattoos yet.”
    “That we know of. Listen, Louise, someone’s calling on the other phone. It might be Winnie. I’ll call you back.”
    Helen dropped the land phone into its base and pushed a button on the cell phone.
    “Hi, Mother, it’s me, Winnie. I only have a minute. What do you need?”
    “Just to know that