Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Shenna
It’s not every girl’s dream to get married in the magistrate’s office in the town hall.
So it’s good that I never really thought about my dream wedding. In my community, girls didn’t cut out pictures from magazines or pick out their favorite colors for matching bridesmaid dresses. Weddings were transactional deals between the bride’s father and the groom’s family.
Marriage was something women dreaded, not celebrated.
I wait on the oak bench outside the magistrate’s chambers and smooth down the wrinkles in the simple yellow sundress I bought second-hand at the local consignment shop off Evergreen Way.
I didn’t have much time to shop for a dress or flowers or rings after Hurley and I returned from the camping trip. The magistrate was only in town on Monday and Wednesday this week, and Hurley wanted to get this ceremony over with as soon as possible. Luckily, the general store doesn’t open until ten on Mondays, so we’re getting this over with.
Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to put my whole trust in someone I used to know? Someone I only ran into less than forty-eight hours ago? To an outsider, this would look absolutely insane.
Of course it does. It’s all very secretive and rushed, but that’s not even the thing that’s making me uneasy. There’s something else that’s bothering me.
Something from my childhood is nagging at me. My insecurities are telling me that maybe this whole thing is a prank.
Unlikely, but there’s a kernel of a thought.
Hurley still hasn’t arrived when the clerk who had us fill out our paperwork earlier today comes out of the office and walks up to me. “Where’s the groom?”
She beams at me but looks around the hallway in confusion.
My insecurity is enhanced when I see the questioning look on her face. Maybe this isn’t real. Maybe it’s one more letdown after a series of letdowns.
I try to smile and stay positive, though. “I don’t know. Maybe something came up…”
“Well, the magistrate only has ten minutes until the next hearing, so you might have to reschedule…”
But then, at 9 a.m. on the dot, Hurley strides in through the double doors of the town hall.
My breath is sucked from my lungs at the sight of him.
He’s so much to take in. Hurley has not only shaved, but he’s had a haircut, and the close-cropped cut shows off his high cheekbones and highlights the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze. He’s exchanged the flannel shirt, wind-resistant trousers, and hiking boots in favor of a button-up shirt, tie, and dress pants. My knees shake as I stand and stare at the man approaching me.
“You…look…different.”
A full grin brightens his face, the first big smile he’s given me since we first ran into each other two days ago. He smooths a hand over his shirt and chuckles, “Do I clean up good?”
I have always hated that expression, but I can only nod and squeak out, “You look like a groom.”
Hurley reaches for me but hesitates. “You look nice, too. I mean, you look nice in general, but…shit, never mind. Here.”
He shoves a small bouquet of white lilies at me. I smile at his awkwardness. Under the floral scent of the lilies, the scent of soap and light aftershave fills the space around us.
“Thanks,” I say, hoping it’s not apparent that my cheeks feel hot.
“What? No jokes today?” Hurley cracks.
No. I have no jokes. Just a lot of questions.
We stare at each other like a couple of dummies until the clerk clears her throat.
“You two look ready to get married,” she says.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Hurley.
Hurley’s thick eyebrows draw together. “Yeah. It’s not like you have a lot of options.”
I scoff. “Gee, thanks.”
“That’s not what I meant. Oh wait, here.”
Hurley reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small box. He opens it, and inside are two rings. “We can get them resized, but I figure it’s good enough for the ceremony.”
He’s being so thoughtful, and he looks and smells so good, so it breaks my heart that I’m going to say what I’m about to say.
“There’s something I need to tell you before we do this,” I say.
“Better hurry,” he replies, cutting his eyes toward the anxious clerk.
I take a deep breath. “Do you remember the nickname you gave me in school?”
I can feel the clerk’s eyes darting back and forth between me and Hurley.
“Uh, yeah. Do you really want to hash this out right now?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
He looks confused but also senses that he’s in trouble. “You mean the giraffe on roller skates?”
“Yes, that.”
He blinks at me. “You didn’t like that, did you.”
It’s never dawned on him before? “I hated it. Everyone called me that because of you. Even the teacher picked up on it, and it stuck, even after you left.”
I wait for Hurley to correct me again that he was removed and didn’t leave voluntarily.
He takes my hand in his. “Shenna, I’m really, really sorry for hurting your feelings with that stupid nickname. If I could go back in time and kick my fourteen-year-old ass, I would. And if I had a time machine, I’d also go back and kidnap you and take you with me. I hated leaving, but I hated leaving all my friends behind more. Especially the girls. I’ve always felt the most guilty about that, that I didn’t take anyone with me.”
“Um…” the clerk stammers. I can feel her impatience.
My heels come off the floor. I need to get closer, to really look into those eyes. “You really would have kidnapped me?”
“Yes. Yes, I would.”
I wait for the sarcastic comment, but it never comes. I believe what he’s saying is true.
“That means a lot to hear you say that.”
He exhales. “Are we good?”
“I’m sorry, we now have five minutes until…” the clerk begins but is interrupted when the office door behind him bursts open, and a large man in a black robe shouts bombastically. “Are we doing this wedding? Because my day has been overrun with idiots, and I need something nice to happen today!”
“Yes, your honor,” I say, then turn back to Hurley, who’s fighting back laughter. “We’re good.”
The ceremony is over quickly and without much pomp or circumstance. It’s not the most romantic of weddings.
Except for the moment I catch Hurley letting his guard down, just before the kiss. He looks like a groom who’s ready to nail me through the wall. My breath catches.
Before I can decide how I feel about those next-level bedroom eyes, Hurley delivers a very real kiss. Soft, slow, and surprisingly sensual, with the slightest brush of tongue. He really did that before the judge and God and everyone.
The kiss knocks the wind out of me.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that kiss had genuine feelings behind it.
When we pull away from the kiss, the magistrate congratulates us and shakes our hands. My head is buzzing.
I barely register leaving the courthouse on Hurley’s arm, or walking down Evergreen Way. But I’m grateful for a comfy chair at the Pine and Petal Cafe, where Hurley has decided we need to have cake to celebrate. I’ll take any excuse for cake.
“Why are you two so dressed up?” Clara asks, cutting into the strawberry cake that I’ve chosen.
I don’t know how much we want to tell her. I’m still deciding what to say when Hurley spills the beans.
“We just came from town hall. We got married.”
Clara’s cake knife pauses in mid-air. “Excuse me?”
Hurley puffs out his chest. She looks from him to me.
I nod. “It’s true. We’re married.”
Clara stammers. “But I…I didn’t even know you two knew each other!”
“We met at the general store,” I say.
Clara’s perfect eyebrows are drawn together in astonishment and thinly veiled concern. “Mildred! That is…such a surprise! I don’t know what to say.”
Hurley clears his throat. I don’t know if it’s a signal, but I decide to come clean.
“Before you say anything, there’s something else I should tell you, Clara.”
I quickly explain the circumstances, and the fact that I lied about my real name.
She blinks at me and repeats it back to me. “Shenna. I…I’m just so shocked.”
“Bad shocked or good shocked?” I ask.
Still holding the knife, Clara bustles around the counter and wraps me up in a hug.
“Good shocked.”
She gives Hurley an awkward side hug. “Jack always spoke highly of you, Hurley. I’m so glad you’re as protective of our Mil—I mean, Shenna, as the rest of us are.”
“I had no idea Jack talked about me,” Hurley mutters.
“Everyone talks about you, big guy,” Clara replies, “even if you don’t talk to any of us.”
If my new husband seems a bit thrown off at that statement, he’s soon distracted by the huge slices of cake that Clara brings out for us, free of charge.
I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I take a mental picture of him devouring that strawberry cake like it’s the last slice of cake on earth.
He might love to give me shit, but. Hurley is a simple man, and easy to please.
He eats his cake, demolishing it in two bites.
That’s my husband.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this new normal.
But maybe, just maybe, it’s not going to be terrible.