Page 105 of Give it a Whirl
She’s a saint.
“I’m not a saint,” she says from beside me. I guess she’s a mind reader now. Either that or I’m mumbling again.
So, I rebut, “You are.” I kiss her freckled nose. “You’re also a siren.”
“A sexy siren, if you please, Mr. Marchesani.”
“As you wish, Mrs. Marchesani.”
She giggles. “I still can’t get used to the name change.”
“It’s only been two months. You’ll get used to it.” We got married at the JP, or justice of the peace, like we talked about. Her dad and brother were there, along with my idiot brothers and parents. She invited Vicky, but she said she had a “prior engagement” that day. Because our families insisted on a reception that Matilda called a party instead, we rented a space in the city large enough for our crew. We hired a DJ and had, you guessed it, Olive Garden and Giordano’s pizza cater. Matilda wore a beautiful red dress to the party, and I donned a black suit just for her since she said I look hot in a suit. When your woman says something like that, you don’t refuse, am I right?
The night was filled with fun, laughter, and even some dancing. Matilda and I repeated our waltz, after several days of practice, of course. We ate, drank, and just celebratedus.
We didn’t bother with a honeymoon. Instead, we used any wedding money we received to put toward our house and to help set up the yard for training. I’d saved quite a bit over the years, but we both agreed to keep most of that as a nest egg or for backup. My girl is smart.
Sounding like it’s a burden, she sighs, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to the new last name.”
Wrapping her up in my arms, I kiss her for real this time. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely. As soon as we’ve put Teddy through his paces, I will.”
Teddy is our other pup. He’s only fourteen weeks old. He’s another one donated to us for the Pets for Patriots program. It’s amazing what word of mouth will do for a cause like Matilda’s. I’ve learned that a dog suitable for that kind of training and work can cost upwards of five grand. It depends on their lineage and so on. So, a donation like that makes her goal of training five dogs a year a reality.
I’d love to give Teddy to Ben who’s going to be transferred to his hometown of Milwaukee, Wisconsin soon which means he’ll be close to us, less than a two-hour drive. He’d benefit from a dog like Teddy. He’s had some rough times during his rehab, so much so, Becky asked me to fly out to Maryland several of months ago for a few days to help. And by help, she wanted me to give him shit like the old times. To remind him he’s still the same old Ben and I’m still his best friend. It seemed to cheer him up so I’m hoping, with him close, I can drive up to see him a lot and with our large house, one with a bedroom on the main level, he can visit us too.
I miss him.
Hell, as long as I’m spilling my guts… what I really hope is for Ben to move down here eventually and for both Ben and Becky to join the business. Becky is a wiz with numbers, and Ben’s organized as fuck. Plus, who says he can’t get into dog training too? I think he’d love that especially knowing he’s helping other vets. Until then, he’d be an asset to this endeavor. I know it.
I mentioned the idea to him when I was in Maryland, but he seemed skeptical at the time. I’m not worried. I’ll convince him. Both of our wives are on board with the plan. (I never get tired of that word: wife.) Matilda said she’d do whatever she could to help Becky convince Ben that this is a great idea. We’ll see. Time will tell, and all that.
We smile at one another, because just this morning, we talked about another goal. Parenting. We’re going to start trying to get pregnant as soon as her last birth control shot wears off in about four weeks.
It’ll be fun working onthatproject. I stand, wrap my arms around my wife, and kiss the hell out of her. “I love you, Matilda Vicky Marchesani.”
“I love you more, Alec Mitchell Marchesani.”
“Not possible.”
“Oh, Alec, haven’t we learned anything is possible?”
We certainly have.
