The Accident

"I hope this doesn't mean you won't enjoy a meal with us once in awhile," the manager said, in full sales mode. This guy was underemployed. A problem solver who never loses sight of the goal line.

"Of course not, Frank," I said, looking at his name tag. I put out my hand and he shook it.

++++++++++

"It makes sense," Rebecca commented as we drove away from the restaurant, "a lot of things make sense now." I had to agree. "I'm still not talking to her," she continued, "not after what she caused." Rebecca reached over and stroked my bruised face. "I can't believe he thought you were a gigolo."

"Am I not hot enough?" I joked.

"You could make a good living," Rebecca answered judiciously, a sly smile gracing her face. She turned away to look out the window. "I am afraid though," she admitted slowly.

"Of us?"

"Of the future," Rebecca said, "look what's happened to you. It hasn't even been two weeks." I looked toward her, then back to the road. No tears, no sadness, just thoughtfulness.

"You're assuming the past dictates the future," I philosophized, "I say the worst has been done. It will be smooth sailing from here on out." I looked over quickly and saw Rebecca didn't hold to my optimism. "I don't regret any of it," I added, then chuckled, "I could have skipped the beating, but it was a minor cost for knowing you."

"What if it gets worse?"

"What if it gets better?" I dueled. Rebecca smiled.

"How sore are you?" Rebecca asked. I looked over to very provocative smile. There was a sparkle in her eyes that I could feel between my legs.

"Not that sore," I lied with a vast smile.

"Good," Rebecca said, her hand moving to my leg. I returned my eyes to the road as her hand climbed up my thigh. "I am told makeup sex is pretty good." I decided the speed limit no longer applied to me.

++++++++++

I waited at the altar, or what masqueraded as one, in the small Las Vegas chapel. The past few months had been the best of my life. I hadn't been beaten up for a while, so I decided to propose during the lull. I wasn't even half done with the question when Rebecca said yes. I think she feared something might happen before the end of the question.

Rebecca was enrolled in a culinary school. She was on a new level of happy, which put me one step higher, somewhere around ecstatic. Rebecca eventually made up with Tammi, but never acknowledged Tammi as her mother. It was Rebecca's secret now, and it would die with me if she wished it.

Carl was looking a little worse for wear next to me. He was experiencing stripper detox. As promised, he threw me a bachelor party that involved three strip clubs and ended around four in the morning. It was the first time in my life that random naked women held little interest. Carl made up for my failings. I had a lot of fun watching him fall in love about ten times.

"You ready?" Cathy called from the entryway. Cathy had remained Rebecca's sister. Rebecca preferred it that way. Cathy was the only family she had known and acknowledgment of the truth would ruin that. Cathy did take care of her growing up. Rebecca thought she was more of a sister than some real sisters. Since I had proposed, Cathy gave up her protectiveness and embraced me as a brother. At least we would have someone for the holidays. I nodded to Cathy and straightened up. Cathy signaled the old lady at the piano and 'Here Comes the Bride' started.

I expected to see Rebecca round the corner in the white dress she and Cathy had picked out. It wasn't a full wedding dress, but I was sure it would be beautiful on her. Carl and I were slightly informal ourselves, in black suits, white shirts and blue ties instead of tuxes. It didn't make sense to go the whole nine yards when we were practically eloping.

Cathy's eyes went wide and she flung her hands out in front of her in the direction Rebecca was coming. I heard something breakable hit the ground followed quickly by other, non-breakable, things. "Oh, honey," Cathy said sorrowfully, moving quickly off to the side, out of my vision. I started moving toward the entryway, hoping it wasn't what I knew it was.

Rebecca came around the corner, Cathy helping her along. Half her hair was undone, the rest still in the bun she spent so much time creating. The bouquet of flowers was mostly broken and her white dress had something dark splattered across the front. The piano player stopped and the Justice of the Peace coughed uncomfortably. Rebecca was on the verge of tears. I didn't know how to undo it.

"Damon," Carl called. I turned. Carl had a pot of flowers he had grabbed off the altar. He held them out to me. His silly smile was all the instruction I needed. I undid the button on my suit jacket, pulled the pink carnations out of the pot and dumped the contents, a greenish fertilized water mixture, down the front of my white shirt. I handed the pot back to Carl and marched the flowers to Rebecca.

"Sorry," I said softly, "I had an accident back there." I took the broken bouquet out of Rebecca's hands and replaced it with the carnations whose stems were entirely too long. A tear formed in her eye that belied the smile on her lips.

"I love you, you know," Rebecca said. I tossed the ruined flowers onto the floor and cocked out my elbow. She put her arm through it, and I nodded to the lady at the piano. The music started again, and I walked my bride to the Justice of the Peace, who had finally seen everything.

++++++++++ Epilogue ++++++++++

Rebecca was shaking when the fifth meter registered the same as the others. Panic coursed through her as she looked at them arrayed along the counter. They all agreed. A sixth seemed insane, but she thought she should run to the store again anyway.

Rebecca heard the garage door going up and she bit her lower lip. Damon was home early. She quickly swept the meters into the kitchen drawer. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the balsamic marinated chicken she had prepared for dinner. If she looked busy, maybe he wouldn't know something was wrong. She had no way of knowing how he would react. She didn't want to lose him over this.

"Got off early," Damon said happily, hanging his jacket in the closet.

"That's nice," Rebecca stuttered, realized it, and added, "I'm glad you're home." Damon sensed Rebecca was harried. He let it go.

"What's for dinner?"

"Chicken," Rebecca answered and started transferring the breasts to a cooking tray.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked, suspicious of her one word answer.

"What do you mean?" Rebecca replied as she set the oven temperature.

"You never make just chicken, love" Damon continued, "it always has a name I need explained to me." He moved closer and wrapped his arms around Rebecca from the back. She leaned back and pecked his cheek, then returned to moving the tray of chicken to the oven. Damon released her a little surprised, wondering where his welcome home lips were.

"Did I do something wrong?" Damon asked, taking a step back. Rebecca caught the edge of the pan on the side of the oven, lost her grip and it all tumbled to the floor. Frustration forced her hand. She turned to Damon with tears she couldn't hold back.

"There's been another accident," Rebecca sobbed and fell into Damon's arms. He knew she didn't mean the chicken.

"Tell me," Damon whispered. He held her as she found the courage.

"You promise not to be angry?" Rebecca pleaded. Damon promised, so she slowly pulled open the drawer. It took a moment before Damon figured out what he was looking at. He lifted up one of the digital meters. It was clearly displaying the word 'pregnant.' He pulled out another with the same results. He smiled, knowing the others would be the same.

"You will make a wonderful mother," Damon said, pulling Rebecca back into his arms.

"You're not upset?" Rebecca asked. Damon answered with his lips. A long welcome home, welcome parenthood, welcome-to-life kiss. Rebecca melted into him. It was only an accident, after all.