The Wedding

“Is that a conch?”

She looked up.

“Why don’t you go grab it?” she said. “It looks like a nice one.”

I didn’t know quite what to say. After all, I wanted her to be the one to find it. By now the waves were breaking precariously close.

“Yes, it does,” I said.

“Are you going to go get it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe you should go get it.”

“Me?” She looked puzzled.

“If you want it.”

She seemed to debate a moment before shaking her head. “We’ve got lots of them at the house. No big deal.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

This was not going well. While trying to figure out what to do next, I suddenly noticed a large swell approaching the shore. Desperate—and without a word to her—I suddenly bolted from her side, surging toward the conch.

I’ve never been noted for my quickness, but on that day I moved like an athlete. Sprinting as hard as I could, I grabbed the shell like an outfielder retrieving a baseball, moments before the wave swept over the spot. Unfortunately, the act of reaching for it left me off balance, and I tumbled to the sand, the air escaping my lungs in a loud whumph. When I stood, I did my best to look dignified as I shook the sand and water from my soaked clothing. In the distance, I could see Jane staring wide-eyed at me.

I brought the shell back and offered it to her.

“Here,” I said, breathing hard.

She was still eyeing me with a curious expression. “Thank you,” she said.

I expected her to turn it over, I suppose, or move the shell in such a way as to hear the movement of the ring inside, but she didn’t. Instead, we simply stared at each other.

“You really wanted this shell, didn’t you?” she finally said.

“Yes.”

“It’s nice.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Still, she hadn’t moved it. Growing a bit anxious, I said: “Shake it.”

She seemed to study my words.

“Shake it,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling okay, Wilson?”

“Yes.” I nodded in encouragement toward the shell.

“Okay,” she said slowly.

When she did, the ring fell to the sand. I immediately dropped to one knee and began looking for it. Forgetting all of what I had intended to say, I went straight to the proposal, without even the presence of mind to look up at her.

“Will you marry me?”

When we finished cleaning the kitchen, Jane went outside to stand on the deck, leaving the door cracked open as if inviting me to join her. When I went out, I saw her leaning against the rail as she had the night that Anna had broken the news of her wedding.

The sun had set, and an orange moon was rising just over the trees like a jack-o’-lantern in the sky. I saw Jane staring at it. The heat had finally broken and a breeze had picked up.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to find a caterer?” she asked.

I leaned in beside her. “I’ll do my best.”

“Oh,” she said suddenly. “Remind me to make the reservations for Joseph tomorrow. I know we can get him into Raleigh, but hopefully we can get a connection straight to New Bern.”

“I can do that,” I volunteered. “I’ll be on the phone anyway.”

“You sure?”

“It’s no big deal,” I said. On the river, I could see a boat moving past us, a black shadow with a glowing light out front.

“So what else do you and Anna have to do?” I asked.

“More than you can imagine.”

“Still?”

“Well, there’s the dress, of course. Leslie wants to go with us, and it’s probably going to take at least a couple of days.”

“For a dress?”

“She has to find the right one, and then we have to get it fitted. We talked to a seamstress this morning, and she says that she can work it in if we can get it to her by Thursday. And then, of course, there’s the reception. If there is one, I mean. A caterer is one thing, but if you can pull that off, we still need music of some kind. And we’ll need to decorate, so you’ll have to call the rental company. . . .”

As she spoke, I let out a quiet sigh. I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised, but still . . .

“So while I’m making calls tomorrow, I take it you’ll be off dress shopping, right?”

“I can’t wait.” She shivered. “Watching her try them on, seeing what she likes. I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since she was a little girl. It’s exciting.”

“I’m sure,” I said.

She held up her thumb and forefinger in a pinching motion. “And to think that Anna was this close to not letting me do it.”

“It’s amazing how ungrateful children can be, isn’t it.”

She laughed, turning her gaze toward the water again. In the background, I could hear crickets and frogs beginning their evening song, a sound that never seems to change.

“Would you like to take a walk?” I asked suddenly.

She hesitated. “Now?”

“Why not?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Does it matter?”

Though she seemed surprised, she answered. “Not really.”

A few minutes later, we were making our way around the block. The streets were empty. From the homes on either side of us, I could see lights blazing behind curtains and shadows moving around inside. Jane and I walked on the shoulder of the road, rocks and gravel crunching beneath our feet. Above us, stratus clouds stretched across the sky, making a silver band.

“Is it this quiet in the mornings?” Jane asked. “When you walk?”

I usually leave the house before six, long before she wakes.

“Sometimes. Usually there are a few joggers out. And dogs. They like to sneak up behind you and bark suddenly.”

“Good for the heart, I’ll bet.”

“It’s like an extra workout,” I agreed. “But it keeps me on my toes.”

“I should start walking again. I used to love to walk.”

“You can always join me.”

“At five-thirty? I don’t think so.”