Chapter 8
It was gone midnight when the party drew to a close and everyone began to leave.
‘Brian’s asleep in the dog kennel, Sam. He can’t stay there; he’ll freeze to death,’ Jolie told her husband as he said goodbye to his guests.
‘Oh my God this is the fourth “Brian Episode” of the night! I’m just going to take a picture,’ Freya announced. She hurried back through the house and out to the garden.
‘Freya really does take photographs of everything, doesn’t she?’ Jolie remarked as Sam followed Freya in a bid to wake Brian up.
‘Yes she does,’ Nicholas replied with a smile.
‘She’s very talented. I saw the photographs she took of the Christian Fathers bridges. They’re beautiful,’ Jolie told him.
‘She has a thing about those bridges. Some things she sees, she just gets taken with and she kind of immerses herself in them. Put it this way: she gets more excited photographing those bridges than she did taking pictures of Kiefer Sutherland in the buff,’ Nicholas tried to explain.
‘An unnatural reaction, I would say.’
‘Unusual I admit, but I’m not sure the same would apply if it were Bruce Willis with no clothes on.’
Freya returned, a smile on her face and her small digital camera in her hand.
‘You should have seen Brian. He had his head in Rusty’s biscuit bowl and a bone in his hand.’
‘Has Sam woken him up yet? I could really do without him staying over tonight. We have to be up early in the morning,’ Jolie said, looking at her watch.
‘Sam and Casey are going to walk him home to make sure he doesn’t just pass out on the lawn outside,’ Freya told her.
‘We’ll go, Jolie. Thank you for a great evening,’ Nicholas said. He lent forward and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Thank you both for coming. I’m sorry you got cornered by Sam’s uncle Joe. He does like to talk,’ Jolie said, kissing Freya’s cheek.
‘He advised me to get out of acting and into property development. He said that’s where the real money is,’ Nicholas said, smiling.
‘Oh I’m sorry. He has no idea who you are,’ Jolie spoke, sounding slightly embarrassed.
‘I’m glad, particularly as I’m wearing this outfit.’
‘Say goodbye to Sam for us and I’ll probably see you later in the week,’ Freya said. They left the house and started to walk down the path.
‘Thanks again for coming. Take care getting home; it’s almost freezing out there,’ Jolie called.
Nicholas took hold of Freya’s hand and they started out across town towards their home. It was certainly chilly and not the sort of weather to be outside for long when you were wearing flimsy fancy-dress costumes.
‘It was a nice evening,’ Nicholas said.
‘Yes it was and Jolie’s sister is a real laugh. Apparently, she lives a ten-hour drive away. And there I was moaning about the flight times to Corfu,’ Freya told him.
‘Casey told me she’s going through a divorce.’
‘Really? She never mentioned it. That’s sad.’
‘Yeah, divorce is never nice even when it’s amicable,’ he agreed.
‘Well I wouldn’t know, having not been in that position.’
‘Would you like to be?’
‘Would I like to get divorced?’
‘No! You know what I mean. Would you like to be in a position to get divorced? Would you like to be married?’ Nicholas asked her. Despite the roundabout way this conversation had started, his tone was serious.
‘Are you making me a proposition, Mr Kaden?’ She smiled.
‘I did that in Corfu, remember? But, perhaps now’s the time to reaffirm that intention,’ he suggested.
‘Has Sam been talking to you about long engagements?’ Freya queried.
‘Sam? No. What made you ask that?’
‘Because Jolie asked me tonight if we’d set a date for the wedding. When I told her we hadn’t, she said she didn’t believe in long engagements or indefinite engagements,’ Freya explained.
‘Well, I think I have to agree with her.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, I think we should set a date.’
‘But when? I mean, you’re off filming in Africa soon for four months and I’m up to my eyes working on the Every Day project. I just can’t see us having time to organise a wedding.’
‘We can make time, Freya. I mean, for all the work we both do, charity or otherwise, we still have to have time for us,’ he reminded her.
‘I know but…’ Freya started.
‘Have you changed your mind about wanting to marry me?’ He stopped walking and turned to face her.
‘No. God, Nick no. Don’t be stupid,’ she exclaimed, taking hold of both his hands and squeezing them tight.
‘Then what is it? What’s freaking you out about setting a date for our wedding?’
‘Oh I don’t know. The thought of planning it all, probably. I mean, weddings are about families and I don’t have one. That kind of means your side of the church is going to be packed full of people and mine is going to have the Petroholis family,’ Freya said, sighing.
‘I haven’t exactly got a big family. Anyway, if we invite all the Petroholis family, including all their aunts, uncles and cousins, we’ll need to hire the entire Empire State Building for the reception.’
Freya smiled. He was right. Once that Greek family got together, it was like a crowd inside a baseball game.
‘And it takes a lot of organisation, which is fine if you’re Emma, but not so good if you’re me. I mean, I couldn’t organise a personal organiser,’ Freya told him.
‘So, do you want a lavish white wedding with ten bridesmaids and a team of coordinators? Or were you planning to sell the rights to the photographs to Shooting Stars magazine?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Well, no.’
‘Then what’s the problem? Let’s set a date and plan the wedding we want. A quiet wedding if that’s what you’d prefer,’ he suggested.
‘But is that what you want too? It isn’t just about me.’
‘I want whatever you want. I just want to make a commitment to you. I want you to be my wife. How we make the commitment isn’t so important as long as it’s special, for both of us.’
‘So, if I said I wanted to just fly to Las Vegas one day and get married in a drive-through chapel with two witnesses and an Elvis impersonator, you would be cool with that?’
‘Yes I would. If it means making you Mrs Kaden, I’d be cool with anything,’ he told her.
She nodded and then turned away from him and began walking across the street towards the road to their home.
‘So? Is that the end of the conversation? Do you need time to think about it or something?’ He hurried to catch her up.
‘No one’s been able to tell me if we’re going to get snow here. Do you think a winter wedding would be cool?’
‘You want to do it now? Near Christmas?’ The excitement in his voice was clear.
‘Yes, is that too soon for you? I thought that if we’re going to do it, we’d better do it before you go all Out of Africa on me.’
‘A winter wedding sounds fantastic. Come here,’ he ordered her. He took hold of her arm and pulled her towards him.
Looking down at her, he gently ran his fingers across the surgeon’s headscarf covering her forehead.
He cupped her face with his hands. Freya smiled at him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her to kiss him.
‘I love you, Freya.’
‘I love you too.’
He kissed her nose and slipped his hand into hers.
‘So do you really want to go to Vegas?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t decided how I want to do it yet. But one thing I do know… I’m going to be the one wearing the dress.’ She pulled at the hem of Nicholas’ nurse uniform and ran off up the road, laughing.