Chapter 3: End, Not the

When we got to town, I gave her a brief tour. We'd only be there one night. We could see it in detail when we came back after graduation. We'd have the rest of our lives to memorize every brick.

The rest of our lives. I was really getting used to thinking that. Gwen would be beside me for the rest of our lives. Reedville would be our home for the rest of our lives. Our car would be blue for the rest of our lives. I was probably taking it a bit far but it was hard not to.

She was wearing my ring for the rest of our lives.

We found the house. It wasn't hard; the town isn't that big and I'd been there a couple times before. We started to unload the car and I handed her the keys when she asked for them. When she opened the door, however, I realized what I was forgetting.

"Wait!" I stopped her before she could enter the house and took the bags out of her hand.

"What?" but I think she knew what was coming. "Peter, don't be silly."

"A man only get to do this once. My wife —"

"Your first wife." She shot.

"Don't sass me woman!" I gathered her hands. "My only wife. I, Peter Harper McElroy took you Gwendolyn Meredith Weiss to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health for as long as we both shall live." I kissed her because men don't cry when they're happy. "You my wife an' this our home so I get ta do this." I swept her into my arms and narrowly avoided banging her head on the doorframe.

"Peter!" She was torn between sheer embarrassment and absolute joy. "You're impossible!" I carried her into the house and upstairs. "The door..." I gave it a kick but I was too busy kissing her again to see if it closed or not.

There were clean sheets on the bed when I got to the master bedroom.

They were not clean by the time we finished.

I let Gwen sleep while I threw on a pair of pants and went out to get our bags and lock the car — I'd even left the trunk open, which says a lot about the honesty of the neighbors.

I called my folks and let them know we got in ok. Then I went upstairs and watched my wife sleep. You only get one shot at a first marriage. She wasn't perfect, but then neither was I. Perfect wasn't a requirement; you make do with what you are. You sacrifice for those you love.

Gwen and I would find the right jobs either at the Fishery or somewhere else. And someday — hopefully soon but whenever — she'd be ready and we'd have a couple kids. We'd grow old and have fights and make up and become grandparents and everything else.

What else could a guy ask for? Oh yeah — for the rest of my life.