Chapter 23

Toni

And she did love him. She'd known that almost from the beginning. But it was so pleasant to say it, to be able to say it, to be able to freely express what was so much a part of her. It wasn't so much that she felt love for 'Berto as that she was love for him. You don't feel you arm or leg – it's just part of you. And my love for him is just as much a part of who and what I am.

She drew her hand back so that she could use both of them to roll up a tortilla. She'd chosen a plate that held beans, rice, and a couple of tamales, which came with a whole stack of tortillas. She'd told 'Berto that it was much like what she'd eaten growing up, the kind of real Mexican cooking that her parents still loved. She used the rolled up tortilla to push beans into her spoon, ate the beans, and then bit off the end of the tortilla, savoring the melding of tastes as the blandness of the tortilla interacted with the flavor of the bean juice.

She looked across the table. 'Berto was plowing steadily through his food, enjoying the hot chili just as surely as she did. He may be able to pass for an Anglo, but those Spanish genes seem to be there... although there were Anglos who ate their chili just as hot as any native of New Mexico – she knew a couple, in fact. He looked up from his food, and there must have been an expression on her face that she wasn't aware of, for he sat up and took notice.

"What is it, my lady?"

I guess now is as good a time as any, she thought. "I thought we might discuss how we want to do the wedding."

"Sure. I was thinking tomorrow, at the judge's office." He smiled, but she wasn't sure he was entirely joking.

Her own tone was serious. "That would be legal, and if you insisted I could do that, but I really would like a church wedding."

"I thought you'd turned away from the church."

That hadn't been how she'd thought of it, but it was, she realized, an apt description. "I guess I had, 'Berto, but I still want to get married in church. It's just ... it's the right way. I can't give you any reasons for it, except I need to do it that way."

He nodded. "Okay, I can live with that." He was going along easily, which she'd hoped for but hadn't been sure she could expect. What few comments he'd made about religion had all been negative. "Do you have a church in mind?"

"No. I've been away for seven years, 'Berto. I don't know what's out there anymore. I know my parents' church, of course, the one I grew up in, but..."

"I can imagine you wouldn't want to have the wedding there."

"No. I want my parents to be there – we've been growing a bit closer these past couple of years – but no, not in that church."

"I know a guy at work who goes to church. If you want, I can ask him where it is and if they'd do the wedding."

"Would you mind? That might be the easiest thing to do."

"Sure. He's one of those Jesus freak types, always talking about God this and God that and Jesus the other thing. He'll love it when I ask him."

Toni wasn't happy with 'Berto's tone or words, but didn't know how to tell him. Does he have to be so scornful? But what right did she have to criticize, even if she knew how to put it? She was the one who'd sinned, the one who'd betrayed God, the one who'd traded peace and joy for a few minutes' pleasure. And don't forget the time you had with Garry, and the time you're having with 'Berto. That's what you got out of it, too. It was a thought that had tried to get into her head before, but she'd always been too sunk in misery to entertain it. Now it seemed right. The happiness of her de facto engagement to 'Berto was clearing away some of the clouds that had hung over her for so long.

Rather than criticize, Toni pursued her topic. "I don't want a real fancy wedding. My chance for that was with Garry. Back then I would have wanted the fancy dress and the veil and the bridesmaids and everything. And I suppose that I wouldn't turn all that down if you really insisted. But I'm not that young anymore, and I can't wear white ... and I think that something sweet and beautiful, but more low key, would be better."

"Okay, that'll work for me. You know I don't even own a suit anyway, so you can imagine how I'd feel if I had to get into a tux."

"I suppose you'd strangle on the tie, or the collar of the shirt."

"Or else the cummerbund would pinch me in half."

She laughed at the notion. "We can't have that. I want a whole husband on my wedding night."

"I guess a half wouldn't do nearly as well."

"No, not at all." It was a humorous bit of conversation, but she doubted that she could go through it again – preparing to marry, and then having it fall apart in death. She shook off the momentary gloom. "The only thing that will satisfy me on that night will be a whole husband, who thinks I'm a little brown dove and likes my eyes."

"That's me." He smiled over a bite of enchilada. "Except I don't like your eyes – I love your eyes."

"They're just what I see out of."

"And they're big and brown and soft and bright, and they ought to be on display as works of art."

"Oh, 'Berto, you say the sweetest things sometimes."

"It's because I'm naturally sweet."

"I'll let that one pass." She felt herself smiling. "So when do we want to have the wedding?"

"I don't know. It'll partly have to depend on how soon we can find a church that's willing. I'll talk to Doug tomorrow, but then I'll probably have to talk to the preacher ... how do churches do these things, anyway?"

"I'm not sure. I know how my parents' church would proceed, but every church is different. I imagine, though, that the pastor will want to talk to both of us sometime before the wedding. And they'll need to check their calendar for an open date..."

"The judge's office would be simpler."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be as emotionally satisfying. I can't explain it better than that, 'Berto – it's my emotions, not my mind, driving me toward a church wedding."

"Hey, whatever makes you happy, Toni. We'll be just as married either way, so I'm not going to fight over it."

"And I appreciate that, 'Berto." She reached across the table and took his hand. "I've heard how you talk about churches and Christians – though you've never spoken the same way about me, which is good. For you to set your ... your scorn, I guess is the best word, aside and agree to a church wedding is very sweet, and I do appreciate it."

"I wouldn't do it for anyone else, Toni – but then I don't love anyone else, and I wouldn't be getting married to anyone else."

"That's a relief. I don't want to one day find out that you've got four wives, like a Saudi, and I'm the least favorite."

"Four wives? Toni, I can only love one at a time."

"I'm not sure that Muslims marry for love – at least not in the most traditional divisions of that religion. Or would you say denominations? Maybe sects is the right word. Anyway, I think perhaps they're more concerned with heirs and position than with love."