Daylights

    This extended fictional ramble concerns happenings in the comic 9 Chickweed Lane.  Specifically the parlously referenced honeymoon of Diane and Francis Durly.  Considering the complexity of their emotional journey and subsequent marriage, I felt somewhat shortchanged by the once over lightly treatment of the honeymoon of a former priest and nun.  I was sure there would have been a great deal of emotional tumult hidden behind that curtain.
     So, I whipped up this wee novella to explore how two people with their backgrounds, both thirty-eight year-old virgins, would have reacted to such an emotionally and sexually supercharged, for them, event.  There is much invention here, but no violence has been done to actual events or characters in the strip, of which more than few appear besides these two.  It is "in canon", but "off screen".  Unfortunately, it will make little sense to those unfamiliar with this heartwarming tale which played out over the course of two years over a decade ago.  Keep in mind that these characters were portrayed as educated intelligent people with high level language skills, which may make their pillow talk seem a bit stilted and formal, but is nevertheless true to the characters as originally presented.



                                                   A Honeymoon in Twelve Acts

  

 

 

 

 

   

 

The evening before the first day.

      Francis turned the key in the lock of room eight at the Blue Pine Inn somewhere in New Hampshire.   He wasn't sure where in NH that might be, but the lateness of the hour and the welcoming glow of the little motel was reason enough to stop.  The first stop in their planned itinerary was fifty miles further on, but their late leave taking from their reception, and the stopover at Chickweed Notch, had left them to frazzled to continue.  The town was a small outlier of a bigger one, which was just sizable enough for a McDonald's, a small diner, and the mandatory charming main street.
     He pushed the door open and looked at Diane, heart besotted with love.  Abruptly he swooped her into his arms and carefully edged through the opening.  Inside she slipped from his arms.  He stood there like a lump in the dark, not knowing what to do and hoping she did.  She knew.  She pushed the door shut.
     She slid into his embrace and said, "Mr. Francis Aidan Durly I'd like you to meet Mrs. Katherine Diane Durly, whom you may remember from their wedding earlier today."
     "Pleased ta' meet 'cha, Mrs. Durly.  You must be the wondrous avatar of Mr. Durly's happiness."
     "Charmed, Mr. Durly.  You must be the Sun, Moon, and Stars of Mrs. Durly, that impossibly lucky woman."
     He hesitated for a moment then her lips crashed into his.  A kiss is always a good plug for holes in a conversation.

Clothes. 
Fumbling. 
Bed. 
Awkward.
Oh. Oh!
Too fast, too fast!
Ohhhh...it's okay honey.

Again.
Slower. 
Better.
Oh my, much better.

Again.
Sweet Sublimity. 
Noisy Joyful Resolution.

Again
A sweet rhythm.
Variations on a theme.
Savoring the glow.

Passion Triumphs Over Inexperience.

     She sat up in bed, arms wrapped around her knees.  A sheen of perspiration gleamed on them both in the lamplight.
     "Francis, I never knew."
     "Knew what, my love?"
     "That I would....well.....just adore what.... what has just happened so insanely much.  My Lord  Francis, what you do to me!  Are you some kind of magician?"
     "Me?  You must be joking.  Really my love, I don't know what the heck I'm doing.  What we're feeling must just be what we should be feeling."  He shook his head.  "Diane I..I..I'm just so...."  He searched for the right word. "so...happy.  Oh God, I just....you...you...us."  He spread his hands.  "This....is just..."  He let his hands flop down, unable to complete the thought.  He gazed at her, smiled, hoped his emotions simply flowed into her.  Finally he said,  "Diane honey, all I know for sure is that I love you far beyond the bounds of sanity."
     "Oh Francis.  I love you with an intensity I never imagined possible, but can love alone cause me to thrash and yelp in a frenzy of abandonment?  I...I am a little surprised I am, uh...well, yelping.  I understand it's not that common."
     He shrugged.  "Honey, I don't know that pure concentrated love can't do that, but I really don't know anything at all about it, and if you want to know the truth I don't want to think about it at all.  We haven't been thinking.  We've been acting on pure animal instinct.  We are animals.  We have instincts.  We love each other ferociously.  For the next three weeks, when we couple, that love and those instincts should be unfettered by thinking, period.  No more thinking tonight.  No more talking.  Animals.  Instincts.  All the love in the world.  Got me?"
     She lunged for him in answer.


10 P.M.  Day one.
     Francis was spent, again.  Emphasize again.  The dryly ecclesiastical view is that honeymoons are supposed to be about two joined souls becoming comfortable with the intimate ways of their mutual flesh.  Well, he thought, Isn't that just about the biggest understatement to ever roll down the pike.  It was the late evening of the first day.  Twenty-five hours had passed.  With a theatrical groan he flopped down beside Diane in exhaustion.
     Diane was quietly enjoyed her fading glow.   She wondered if the folks in the next room over were getting tired of her noise making.  She rolled and snuggled against her freshly minted mate.
     His breath was still labored from his joyous workout.  He sighed and said,  "Well, that's twelve."
     "Twelve what pray tell?"
     "As if you didn't know.  Twelve times we've made love in the twenty-five hours we've been here."
     "Always the accountant.  Does seem like a lot though."
     "For people going about their daily normal lives it doubtless is an unattainable number, but for randy honeymooners I'm not so sure."
     "You think I've become a sex maniac after only one day?"
     "Absolutely, and as far as I'm concerned it is a thing devoutly to be wished, because I've become one as well."
     "Should we ease up a little?"
     "Bite your tongue, woman.  I refuse to budge from this room until we are sick of the sight of each other and desperately want to do something besides f--, uh make love."
     She smiled and kissed him.  "Honey, you don't have to use that word if it offends.  It sticks in my craw as well.  Tell you what.  You know how I like to do substitutions for objectionable words.  How about, um, blomp?   Now I can comfortably say that I adore being blomped by you and intend to go on being blomped by you until at least a foot of dirt covers our graves."
     "Okay Mrs. Language Person, just what the heck differentiates making love from, uh, blomping.  Boy, it's going to be tough reprogramming myself to use profanity, even with a nonsense word substitution.  I may be saying blomp but hearing, well, you know."
     "It is but mere vulgarity, my love, not profanity, and I do not fear its use.  But, I can only speculate about the difference between a sweet modern euphemism like making love, and a time honored Anglo-Saxon vulgarism.   Hmmm.  Let me see.  I suppose when you have gently coupled with a beloved spouse at close of day under the covers in a mingled haze of fatigue and affection, then you both turn over and go to sleep, you have made love.  When you have enthusiastically taken your willing partner on the kitchen table in a crockery smashing scarlet-eyed orgasmic frenzy, then you have most definitely blomped her.  Why such reticence in the usage my husband?"
     "Well, I haven't used that word since, well never really, but in addition to that it's because these days the F-bomb is dropped so frequently and indiscriminately by one and all that it has lost most of its value as linguistic forbidden fruit.  Now it seems to have devolved into mere punctuation.  I know vulgar just means common, but that word has just become way too common."
     She nodded.  "Too too true I fear.  Tell you what.  Outside the privacy of our domicile I will attack you like an angry ferret if you use that word, not that I would ever expect to actually hear it from you.  Within those private confines you are encouraged to use any appropriate example of the vulgate your heart desires, or we can do other word substitutions.  I won't press though.  Actually I adore your reticence.  It's so courtly and sweet, chivalrous even."
     "Anyway, regarding that important difference.  It doesn't matter at all what we call it.  It doesn't make any sense to me that wanting each other physically should be somehow mentally or rhetorically separate from loving each other.  The former is entirely contained within the latter, or so it seems to me.  Love is everything from a tender look across the breakfast table all the way to having the neighbors call the cops because of all the loud animal noises coming from next door.  Do you think there should be some separation there?"
     He shook his head.  "Certainly not, but what dismays me is that love and sex are things that seem to have become almost completely separated.   It seems so sad.  So much sex, and so little love.  I'm sure people have been complaining about that since before the stone age, but that doesn't make me feel any better about it.  And then there's us way over here in this curious corner of ours where neither of us could even contemplate the idea of sex without love, or before a formal marriage ceremony for that matter."
     "We decided to keep our relationship platonic, but it would not surprise me in the least if that dictionary Edda gave us defines it as 'stupid'".  He sighed and wagged his head.  "Oh honey, I've wanted you so badly for so long I thought a few more months wouldn't be that big a deal.  They weren't a big deal.  They were an ordeal, no two ways about it.  But the past day, oh my Lord the past day.  I just remembered a line from that Crosby movie Going My Way.  I've been in a blue heaven dancing on a pink cloud.  Sappy huh?"
     "Very, but it just about perfectly describes the way I'm feeling.  I'm also having this incredibly powerful feeling of being completely and entirely yours.  Your wife, your woman, your love, yours, yours, a thousand ways yours."
     "Yours to blomp as well, whenever and however.   Francis, I don't mind verbal reticence, but please let's not be shy about enjoying each other's bodies.  You don't have to be so crude as to announce it, unless it's in some waggish fashion, but when the red haze appears then I insist that you grab me, pitch me onto the table, bed, sofa, you name it and blomp the living daylights out of me.   Don't worry.  I'll be doing my share of grabbing and blomping, and what the heck ever as well."
     "Yes yes, I know some women would go ballistic over a statement like that and blather endlessly about marriage rape and the ruthless oppression of the male patriarchy blah blah blah.  Speaking as a fuddy-duddy thirty-eight year old ex-nun it is plain that I am in thrall to a member of the adoring male patriarchy, which may be a very rare thing indeed, therefore experienced by very few women.  I have you, and they have my pity."
     "Maybe I would be in high dudgeon about such things if I had experienced an adulthood full of relationship disappointments and professional obstacles.  I have certainly seen those kinds of things in the parish of which I was a part, one Juliette Burber comes to mind in that regard, but since I don't consider myself to have been oppressed, I can't feel that way regardless of the toxic fulminations coming from certain quarters." 
     "If I haven't felt oppressed by being part of an institution where almost by definition men have far more authority than women, I'm not likely to ever take a severely contrary view.  Doubtless they would point out that I have merely traded one oppressive gold ring for another, but who cares what the great and grand they think?  They have never walked in my shoes, and they certainly can't see into my heart."
     "In any case, after due consideration of all the evidence before the court, my ruling is I love you dearly, deeply, desperately, and that with my enthusiastic participation I have been gloriously and thoroughly blomped twelve times in twenty-five hours, twenty-six now I think.  Is that clear enough for you?"
     His response was an extremely Gallic kiss of about ten minutes duration.
     They finally broke as their lips approached complete numbness.  He held her tight and said,  "I think we passed the test."
     "What test?" came a muffled reply.
     "Our whole lives must have been a test leading up to that fateful day at St. Camilla's.  It's water clear to me now.  God saw two good and deserving people, their faith tested and not found wanting, their souls harmonious in outlook and capacity for love.  He knew that despite our heartfelt callings it would have been cosmically wrong to deny us each other."
     "He loved us enough to lead us to each other and then led us from the religious community, which can ill afford the loss, so we might be together.  I can not help but see such an outcome as less than a genuine miracle, if perhaps a minor one in the great scheme of things."
     She un-muffled her face from his chest and looked up at him, then essayed a chuckle.  "Oh my sweet Francis.  You know I fancy myself as a captain-of-her-own-fate kind of person, but in this case I will not argue your point, at all.  In truth it's a lot more comforting to think our mating abetted by the Almighty than attributing it to the Drunkard's Walk of blind chance.  If He is responsible, then I thank Him from my uttermost subterranean depths."
     She wagged her head.  "Oh Francis, when we met it was so wonderful, and so awful at the same time.  My brain reeled, my stomach roiled, my heart pounded, my, um, nether regions twinged furiously.   Did any of that boiling cauldron of love and desire show on my face at the time?"
     "Aside from a certain look of wistfulness, I can't say it did.  Your self-control was perfect, or at least so it seemed to me through the fog of what I was feeling.  There were a couple of things that really got my attention though.  The first time we sat on that bench we happened to look into each other eyes and we didn't look away for what seemed like years, but couldn't have been more than a second or two.  Diane you stared into the innermost core of my soul.  Heaven beckoned in those eyes."
     "Another time we were walking down a hall when there was a pile-up at the door and you came to a sudden halt.  I wasn't able to stop as quick and I ever so lightly brushed against your back.  Most people have a personal space of a foot or two that they will try to maintain around strangers, but you didn't budge so much as a millimeter.  I brushed against you, but you seemed to welcome the intrusion.  It may not seem like much, but it was a revelation to me at the time."
      She nodded.  "I remember that little incident very well.  Actually, I didn't just let you brush against me.  I actually pressed slightly back against you.  At that moment if you had hauled me into the bushes and had your way with me I wouldn't have uttered a peep of protest.  Oh Francis, I want you to know that when you held my hand for that mere moment before you left St. Camilla's, my heart just melted away.  It was the single most poignantly sweet moment in my entire life.  You literally changed that life with one brief touch.  What happened to us Francis?  Did we both go insane?  Are we still insane?"
     He wagged his head.  "Perhaps we were, and very probably still are, but I can only hope we stay that way for a long long time.  I will say this.  There is little doubt in my mind that we have proven the truth of the old chestnut that it is possible to fall madly in love with someone at first sight.  However insanely much I love you now, I can't really say I love you any more than the second we met.  Heck, I'm not sure it's even possible to love you any more than I do, then or now.  I have to admit that it took a few hours for me to profoundly realize it.  I literally stopped in mid-stride and felt as if I'd zoomed back to the moment we met and realized the greatest demarcation in my life I've ever experienced had occurred."
     "It was a real face palm moment.  I thought to myself, Dear God help me.  I'm in love with a nun!  Not only that, but I've been in love with her since the moment we met!  Diane honey.  If this intensity of love is a sickness I hope a cure will never be found.  And another thing.  From that day to this I have not in any real sense considered myself celibate."
     "My Francis, I hope you won't think ill of me for saying this, but it has become all too clear to me that enforced celibacy for those in holy orders is not the brightest idea the Church ever had.  I think it causes as many problems, or more, than it seeks to avoid."
     "Sadly true, my love.  I know I know.  Celibacy is supposed to insulate one from the distractions of the flesh so that one's service to God is not diluted.  But, if one studies church history it's easy to see that the enforced practice of celibacy has been a very rocky road bestrewn with as many failures as successes, and the wreckage of countless people's lives.  I suppose that people might assume that attitude is mere self-justification on my part, but I can tell you with certainty that if I had not been forced to leave the priesthood I would never have done so."
     "Protestant clergy seem to have no trouble ministering both to their flocks and their families.  Or at least no more trouble than the general population.  It sure seems as if celibacy is a Catholic tradition that is rapidly becoming more honored in the breach than the observance.  Church doctrine has been quite malleable in past centuries, but celibacy is still as solidly doctrinal as ever.  That may change, but it could be several lifetimes from now."
     "The Church, specifically the clergy, has been in a lot of trouble the last few years, a great whopping lot of trouble as we both well know, but it is hard to make the case that continuing to deny the very most basic of human drives to those in holy orders will somehow make the situation better.  I never thought I would say such a thing, but that particular doctrine would deny me your love and that, to me, is a grave sin of the Church and not myself." 
     "My Francis, I can not agree more.  I hated having to leave.  If I could teach and guide my students at St. Camilla's and then go home to the love of my life it would be my idea of a very Heaven on this earth.  I miss it terribly, but make no mistake that considering what I have gained I have absolutely nooo regrets about leaving the order.  Celibacy is driving good men and women from holy orders, and I despair about that, but I have little hope things will change."
     She kissed him tenderly.  "As much as I agonized and prayed about it ultimately there was no other choice for me but to leave the order.  The only scary part was leaving not really knowing if you felt the same way about me."  She nuzzled him.  "You were worth the risk"
     They lay quietly for a while.  He noticed it was midnight.
     "You know my love, I don't really care anymore, but I am curious.  Notably absent in doctrine is any mention of the marriage bed hosting heedless rutting in wild libertine abandon, because that, I am pleased to observe, is exactly what we have been doing."
     "Francis, I suspect the church would not be too thrilled with the heedless rutting scenario, for all the reasons you mentioned.  However, if that's what we've been doing then the church can just, and I say this with the greatest respect, sod off.  It's true that the church nurtured me, trained me, and gave me a home, but before we met I never in my life expected to be in a relationship so stupefyingly loving and erotic.  If it meets with someone's disapproval then they can just kiss my scapular."
     "Careful now.  Sister Steven is liable to have the joint bugged."
     "Hah!  Florence Anne would require oxygen and a defibrillator if she had been in this room for five seconds of the last twenty-four hours."
     "Do you suppose she managed to sow any wild oats before she joined the order?"
     "No clue.  She kept her secular life a complete mystery, so it may well be that a fair acreage was indeed planted.  I hope she did, although there are many reasons and some ghastly circumstances that bring women to the veil.  For all I know we could have been the ones needing oxygen if we had been on site."
    Francis, "Sorry, but the image of Sister Caligula dancing the horizontal mambo will thankfully not come to me."
     "You cad.  Now I'll have to fight conjuring that image for weeks if not months.  Hmmm.  You mentioned heedlessness.  We're certainly guilty of that.  You will note that not condom, pill, cream, or device one has been employed either of us.  I don't think either of us even brought any such contrivances."
     "Does that bother you?  Do you think you're fertile?"
     "It doesn't bother me a bit, and although normally I am fertile as a turtle, or so my gyno says, I doubt I am just now.  The end of my last period was just three days ago, but every good Catholic mother knows that's far from a guarantee, and I note that we have nearly three weeks of honeymoon left and I'm not planning on doing any heeding.  Your swimmers could be tipping their hats to one of my blushing ova as we speak. Does starting a family so quickly bother you?"
     "It scares the bejabbers out of me, but I can't have any objection to it.  Good Heavens woman.  Do you think I'm a Unitarian or something?  Do you want to keep on this way until you get pregnant?  Assuming you aren't pregnant in three weeks."
     "Well, no.  If I am with child after these three weeks, it's a fine old tradition don't you know, then so be it, but if not then I'll get a pill scrip soonest.  I'd like a few months of heedless rutting before the diapers and sleepless nights start.  However, I can't deny that my biological clock is loudly ticking.  It's almost deafening in fact."
     "I don't really think of us as middle aged, but even so I'm no springy chicken, and the later a woman bears children the more problems she can have, so let's do it this way.  If I'm not with child by the end of this trip, and I assure you it will not be for lack of enthusiastic effort, then in a year we'll start trying to make babies in earnest.  Reasonable?"
     "Quite."
     "Francis?"
     "Yes love?"
     "How many?"
     "Children?"
     "Yes."
     "Haven't given it much thought.  Two.  Three perhaps.  More might be pushing our luck at our age."
     "Well, Dr. Steyner gives me a clean bill.  I could start spitting them out like watermelon seeds."
     "You'd do that?"
     "Well, if we were eighteen then I could see us with a nice little herd of seven or eight, more even.  Big talk I know for someone who has never even been pregnant, but that's the way I feel about it."  She looked directly at him.  "Francis, I know it sounds as if I want to be nothing but a brood mare, but my love it so thrilling, and sobering, that I have the ability, and now the freedom, to make people."
     "I want us to make people Francis.  Intelligent loving people who can contribute to this world.  This magical recreation is far beyond wonderful, but I am equally intent on engaging in procreation to whatever extent my body will safely allow.  In that regard four or five would be nice, but that might be an overly ambitious goal."
     He nodded slowly.  "Yes.  More than that does seem unwise.  The risk to you and to your babies in your late forties would be very high.  I've been thinking we have plenty of time to consider children, but you know a lot more about such things than I.  I wouldn't mind even a huge family, but my love I might get very cross if more than a few babies threatens your health or well being.  But if you seriously wanted to do it, I wouldn't object to keeping you with child continuously until menopause rolled around."
     "I know I will love our kids, whether it is just one or a dozen, but I also want their mother healthy enough to be there for them for a long time and," He smiled, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that my wife be around for me to love for at least sixty more years."
     "Ohhhh Francis, Francis.  Oh my God my sweet man.  I love you so much.  Oh my oh my.  Well you're right of course. Even if my body was up to it, and all the babies were healthy, we would have virtually no time to ourselves for decades.  Two or three sounds a lot more reasonable, but heck I don't know yet how I'll handle one, let alone three.  I could turn out to be a catastrophically bad mother."
     "Now that I simply can not imagine."
     "Okay then.  We'll try out a precious wee person and see how it goes.  If everything goes well physically, I can pop another two or three out in a reasonable amount of time. "
     "My Francis, I should warn you if it appears that I am with child in a month, I can't guarantee I won't freak out a little, or maybe a lot.  I'm liable to forget everything I've just told you if it becomes obvious I have a baby on board."
     "I've mothered a lot of kids over the years, but the idea of mothering my own child has always seemed as far away as the land where the Bong-Tree grows.  I honestly don't know how I'll react, although it certainly won't be one of those panic stricken Edda/Amos specials.  If he ever gets around to popping the question they are going to have to be tied to the same tree so one of them can't flee in terror."
     "Honey, I desperately want to make babies with you.  I positively yearn to have your babies, but I don't want to sentimentalize it too much.  I'm not a clueless teenager, but still the idea of a life we create growing inside me is, is...well I don't even have words for it."
     "You don't have words for it?  Now that I really find hard to believe."
     "Wise guy eh?"
     "No.  Just a guy laying in front of a girl asking her to love him."
     "Oh for Heaven's sake, Notting Hill?  Next you'll be comparing me to Julia Roberts."
     "Nope.  Too skinny and a mouth three sizes too large for her head.  Sorry love.  You come way out ahead on that one. Have I mentioned in the last two minutes that I love you?"
     "No, and back at you times ten.  I love you so much it frightens me.  I'm sure it's unwise to invest oneself in another human being to such an extravagant degree, but I don't seem to have the slightest control over it.  Sometimes I think  my love seems so unbelievably intense only because I've never loved before.  Am I obsessing over just being in love, or am I obsessing over being in love with you?"
      "I've occasionally wondered about that for a long time, but when I do almost immediately a tsunami of feeling for you washes over me and sweeps all those doubts away.  My love seems so huge somehow, almost like an independent entity that has its own agenda and is determined to ignore whatever quibbles I have with the raw force of it.  Is this normal?  Does everyone feel this way?"
     Francis, "I have no idea my love, but let me ask you this.  Is it even possible to be too much in love?  Is there some sane and sober 'just right' level of love?  I hardly think so.  I suppose the intensity of our feelings might seem spooky at times, but as intense as they are I don't think we are blindly in love.  Yesterday did not witness the wedding of Saint Katharine and Saint Francis.  We got married, just two people as subject to human frailty as any others.  We are not perfect beings."  He grinned, "Well you might be, but the jury's still out on me."
     "Anyway, we aren't perfect, there is no correct amount of love, and I just don't give a hoot really.  If we love each other so obsessively much our eyes cross, we start dancing on tabletops, and start babbling gooey sugary nonsense at each other then so what?  It's not as if we are threatening to fling ourselves onto each other's funeral pyres.  This is not philocaption we're experiencing.  There are no witches or necromancers about.  We are not crazy.  We might be crazy in love with each other, but that's just a metaphor and not a description of our mental health.  Will we ever cool down?  Well maybe, but I prefer to operate on the theory that if one has a large enough surplus of something one can never run out of it."
     She stared at him.  "Uh, Francis?  I think you are right.  It is not remotely possible for me to love you too much.  You are, and forgive me if I blaspheme, the very god of my idolatry.  Oh Lord Francis, please stop me before I take up the next three weeks quoting Shakespeare."
     "Nonsense.  Quote as much as you like.  It occurs to me that as a devotee of old Will you find all this especially piquant.  Can it really get any better than a Shakespearean level of love that has no tragedy attached?  I think not.  Well maybe a little tragedy since we've lived a goodly chunk of our adult lives without the pleasure of each others company.  When one considers everything about those lives, and the improbable circumstances of our meeting and mating, it just reeks of fore-ordination, as if the Universe is insisting on making our two into one."
     She nodded.  "I can hardly deny it, for my prayers have been answered, by God, the Universe, by whatever entity may respond to such entreaties.  Regarding old Will, it is only with supreme effort that I am not spouting his exquisite language every two minutes."
     "Spout away, but I hope you have noted that out of respect for your peace of mind I have not once mentioned St. Thomas Aquinas.  I realize I got rather carried away with that.  If you don't mind I like to change the subject a bit.  I have observed that all of our experience so far has been of the, uh, straight no chaser persuasion.  It makes me wonder if you're not that keen on anything else, not that I have the slightest objection if you aren't."
     She shook her head.  "I do have a reason, but it doesn't have anything to do with virginal squeamishness.  It is that I am still reveling in the glory of seeing you above me.  I can not really relate just how insanely stimulating it is to me.  I get to watch my true love sweetly blomp me.  What could be more sublime?  The feelings, the sensations, are completely unexpected and ferociously satisfying, and the visual is even more exciting than I've ever thought it would be."
     "My God Francis, I never before imagined such a powerful stew of love and desire could even exist.  I also never realized just how titanically huge my libido is.  The chains on it have snapped and buddy you better run for the hills.  I am officially amok.  Worry not my love.  All our erotic avenues will be well trod in the fullness of time.  And oh yes.  I love you I love you I love you and I thank Jesus Joseph Mary all the saints, even Saint Thomas, and most especially you for making this possible.  I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.  Have I mentioned I love you?"
     "Nah, hardly at all.  Feel free to keep mentioning."
     "I love you I love you I love you I love you...................................


3 A.M.  Day Two.

     Francis was threatening to nod off.  Diane was vibrating with the energy of one of Amos' cello strings.
     "Francis?"
     "Yes, my love?"
     "Would you please explain to me what in the name of all that is good and true and holy did I do in my life to deserve you?"
     "He cracked an eyelid and yawned.  "Ah, the three A.M philosopher.  We can not really know that my sweet, but it is doubtless many things.  Your goodness.  Your devotion to the church.  Your chastity.  Your teaching skills.  Your love of your students.  Your forbearance of all annoyances and difficulties.  God's love shining from your soul. Et. Cet. Er. Ah.  The better question is how a nerdy nervous-Nellie like me could ever deserve you.  And don't cite me a list.  It's just going to have to remain a mystery."
     She snuggled.  "I shouldn't wonder then?"
     "I wouldn't.  Think of it as somewhat similar to the phenomenon whereby having to explain a joke robs it of its humor.  God could lay his reasons out for you in burning script on parchment, and they might not make any sense to you, or appall you, or even seem trivial.  Who knows?  What we are my love is the roll of the cosmic dice that despite all the obstacles has landed on lucky seven, although God may have loaded the dice a bit."
     "If the joke analogy doesn't appeal how about this.  Think of it as a Seurat painting that our noses are nearly touching.  All we can perceive are blurry random dots with the big picture beyond the horizon of our understanding.  I am utterly convinced that we belong together, but why we may or may not deserve each other is way out there in those blurry dots, incomprehensible and unknowable.  All I know for sure is that I will get down on my knees every day for the rest of my life to thank the benevolent Creator for gracing my life with your presence.  Besides all that, do you really think you have to be bucking for sainthood to deserve the likes of little old me?  Seems improbable."
     "Oh I suppose you're right, it's just that I love and adore you more with each passing hour.  It is an...exalting feeling."
     "We're like kids with new toys," he tweaked a handy protuberance, "and we have some really incredible new toys.  Oh what a lovely playground you are.  Now sleep sleep my darling wife, before we injure ourselves somehow."


9 A.M.  Day 2

     "Good grief, I had no idea a McDonald's breakfast could taste so wonderful.  The coffee's not even that bad if you dose it up enough.  Thank you for fetching, honey.  I think we both were getting a little weak for lack of sustenance."
     Francis nodded.  "I think you're right.  Sleep deprived as well.  How long did we sleep?"
     "I think we collapsed into inert heaps some time around four o'clock.  So a whole four hours then.  Ah to be eighteen again and able to keep the eyes bright for three days on no sleep."
     "Oh you wouldn't have given me the time of day when you were that young.  A babe like you would hardly have consorted with the likes of me.  The ones in my high school sure didn't.  I was a member of the species Nerdus Ultimatus."
     "Their loss, and it would have been mine as well.  What makes you think I was such a hot patootie twenty years ago?"
     "Well, you are just ravishingly beautiful now, so twenty years ago you must have been able to melt male eyeballs at a hundred paces."
     "Flatterer.  Okay I suppose I was a bit of a hottie then, and I had no trouble getting dates as I've mentioned before.  However, I was also one of that nearly extinct breed, a good virginal Catholic girl, and I got very tired fending off all those hormone addled male octopi.  I mean really.  My boobies are nothing special, but you'd have thought they were the Holy Grail by the way those grubby little buggers yearned to get at them."
     "I didn't dress at all provocatively, but it didn't seem to matter.  By my senior year in college a convent was starting to seriously appeal, especially the orders that still wore full habits.  The nuns in my Catholic school were not objects of sexual speculation or predation, as far as I knew at any rate.  After all, one of the salient reasons for wearing a habit is to de-emphasize anything that might be interpreted as overt sexuality."
     "I realize that seems like a rather tawdry and selfish reason, by itself, for taking holy orders, but I actually had been thinking about it since I was a young teenager, so it was hardly a new idea to me.  I did finish four years of college, but the octopi swarmed even more numerously.  If I was saving myself for my husband it must have been subconsciously, because I don't remember specifically thinking that.  But I do remember not being especially interested in matters sexual.  I was probably more than a little neurotic in that respect, but boy oh boy that particular drive just exploded in me when I laid eyes on you."
     "Hah!  Lady killer Francis, that's me alright.  I never got a girl to so much as bat her eyelashes at me.  I couldn't rent a date.  I was a major beanpole with weirded-out hair and a vast collection of superhero comic books and electronic toys.  Like you I went to a Catholic high school, but even there I was a sore thumb sticking out a mile.  I was so uncool I wasn't even in the same solar system as my peers."
     "I didn't curse, in any fashion.  I didn't care for heavy metal rock except for Led Zeppelin and Queen.  I read a lot and cultivated a good vocabulary.  I voluntarily went to mass every day, sometimes twice, I sang in the choir, and I was celibate, not intentionally but I didn't really mind.  I rarely pursued girls, and they certainly didn't pursue me.  I would not be surprised to learn that some of my classmates thought I was gay.  Anyway, I was most of the way to being a priest already, so after graduation I was off like a shot to seminary.  I had also been thinking about it for a long time."
     "So it's a fortuitous thing that we never crossed paths in our youth.  I doubt we would have had the same reactions to each other at all that we did when we actually met.  Let's face it, we were fated to be mated and slated to be tied, but not 'till we were in our 30s.  Hmmm.  Fred Astaire sang that, but I forget what movie it's from."
     "Silk Stockings.  We saw it just a few months ago remember?"
     "Oh yeah.  Well, I doubt I could have named the movie when we were watching it.  I was likely much too distracted by staring at you like a lovestruck Ferdinand the bull, suppressing a major arglefargle, and desperately wanting to get my hands on your adorable bomboids, grubby octopus that I am."
     "Oh Lord, I've created a monster.  My Francis, that is just one euphemism too far.  I don't have bomboids, or bosoms or a 'chest'.  My Francis I have breasts.  Breasts Francis, hooters, knockers, boobs, tits.  Tell this instant you adore my tits."
     "Okay okay.  I adore your tits.  Why are you doing this?"
      "Because my sweet Francis, I want my tits, and my ass, and my cunt, and every other part of me to be undiluted de-euphemised objects of your naked lust for me.  And one more thing.  You can blomp me when we make love, but when our blood is up I want you to fuck me in a blind fury.  I presume I have made myself clear?"
     "Crystal."
     "Good.  Well now that you have had your hands on my bomboids, what is your verdict?  And you are encouraged to lie through your teeth."
     "The ragged tatters of what is left of my propriety prevent me from being too specific, but even though you are an ancient hag of thirty-eight they look like those of twenty year-old, or at least what I imagine a twenty year-old's look like.  Plus I want to emphasize that au contraire your tits bloody well are special!  I won't insult you by saying they are large, but I'd say the grubby octopi can scarcely be held responsible for their actions in pursuit of such delightful Grails, which I will in the proper spirit observe, have nipples the size and hardness of marbles when you are aroused.  If you wore a tight sweater on a cool day in Times Square they'd have to call out the National Guard to put down the riot."
     "Wow.  You may have been awkward around the Heathers, but you sure know how to boost an ancient hag's ego."
     "No ego stroking here, just fact.  You think you revel in the visual.  When I'm above you it's actually difficult to look at you.  When I do my frontal lobe slags down to useless mush, and shortly thereafter I'm doing my impression of a city fire boat."
     "And another thing.  The rest of you can't be all that far off the twenty year-old benchmark either.  As God is my witness if I did not know you I would swear you weren't a day over twenty-five.  How is that possible?"
     "I got very lucky in the genetic lottery.  By the time I was sixteen my mother and grandmother could switch clothes with me without a problem. Three size sixes in a pod.  As far as aging goes, my Gramma was only forty-seven when I was a senior in high school, and mom was only thirty-three.  They tend to start early in the Appalachians. We looked more like widely separated sisters than three generations of the Fallon clan. I swear Gramma didn't look much older than I do now.  So yeah, really good genes."
     "One other thing.  I've spent the majority of my life in a full habit and I haven't spent all that much time outdoors so I haven't exposed my skin to the ravages of the sun like so many women my age have done.  Actually I'm lucky I don't have a Vitamin D deficiency, but staying out of the sun does wonders for a woman's skin."
     "Hmmm.  Size six huh?  You know I have no clue what that really means, or have any basis for comparison."
     "Well, I'm not sure where all the numbers come from, but size six is, or used to be, just a generic term for medium.  In any case I am actually a size six Tall today, more or less, but that's only because of size inflation since I was a teenager.  Juliette and I are the same size, roughly speaking, but of course I need a Tall size where she is more of normal Misses.  I think she and Edda just miss needing tall sizes."
     "I love Edda's taste in clothes except for what she is prone to wear out on the town.  Lord I'd feel essentially naked in a lot of the evening wear she favors.  Edda claims she and Juliette used to share clothes, but that must be before she became a lean working ballerina. The clothes Edda likes to wear now would look spray painted on Juliette.  Heck they frequently look like that on Edda."
     "She claims to be a four, which is actually a little big for a ballerina.  She has a musculature that is a little more prominent than average, which may make it easier for her to do all those incredible power duets with Seth, although I don't know that for sure.  Hmmm.  You've met Isabel Florin right?  She is probably at least a six, and Janice can't be any bigger than a size zero.  Maybe even a double zero."
     "There's a size double zero?  You're kidding."
     "Nope.  Sizes basically go from triple and double zeros up to twenty-eight or thirty and these days way beyond that.  I've heard of sizes bigger than 40 but I really can't imagine the size person who would need that.  Then there's two, three, four, five, six Xes, Girls, Petite, Misses, Tall, Women's, Plus, vanity sizing, on and on. and if there is anything resembling standardization I can't detect it."
     "What the heck is vanity sizing?"
     "Oh that.  Vanity sizing means clothes that are labeled as, say, eights, are actually what would have been tens, twelves, or even fourteens thirty years ago.  Heck, even for women it can get confusing.  It's just gotten completely out of hand.  I've had to do some quick learning in the last year.  Juliette and Edda have  been extremely helpful."
     "I'll bet that vanity thing is popular though."
     "Of course.  Know what though?  Because of it actual dress sizes are all over the doggone place.  Knowing one's dress size is not much help in a store.  It's scarcely even a good starting point.  If I see something labeled a size six I haven't the faintest idea if will look like a tent or a sausage casing on me, so I have to try on everything.  Not that I mind, but be warned.  Purse holding is definitely in your future."
     "Dress size is as malleable and elusive a concept as you can imagine.  I will usually fit in a size six in the better shops.  Depending on the cut I have and can wear sizes from four to eight so split the difference and call it six.  Plus I have to shop Tall sizes which complicates things even further.  Hard to find as well, and usually expensive."
     "I am ashamed to say I've spent a fair chunk of daddy's incredibly generous inheritance to shop at some of the better stores in the City.  I've found that sizes are usually more accurate there than in the hinterlands.  The quality and cut of the clothes are far better.  They should be at those prices.  You'd be amazed how easy it is to spend thirty thousand dollars in New York shops, especially since I've had to essentially start from scratch.  Oh my Lord, I could spend that on shoes alone." 
     He sighed.  "You know, you look exquisitely curvaceous in the altogether but you sure hide it well in most of the clothes you usually wear.  Not that you don't look always look pretty enough to make my heart stutter.  I have to admit that I am a little stunned at how dramatically you are able to minimize the, uh, visual impact of your most deliciously salient womanly features."
     "Well honey, I dress conservatively because after all I am conservative.  A modestly hourglassy figure is not hard to disguise but what is tricky is not looking too dowdy.  It's not that hard really.  High necklines. No sheer anything.  No tight blouses.  No pushup anything.  No short skirts.  No stiletto heels.  And I almost always wear a sweater or jacket to de-emphasize the difference between my waist and hips.
     "The only real downside is that dressing that way tends to make me look as if I weigh more than I really do.  Actually my measurements on someone six inches shorter might qualify as voluptuous.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy wearing clothes that emphasize my shape, even perhaps exaggerate it, when I want to show it off to you, but only you.  Hmmm.  Would you like me to wear short tight skirts in public?"
     "Oh my word, no.  I doubt I could restrain myself from doing what the good Lord in his mercy encourages me to do in present circumstances."
     "And what, I hesitate to ask, is that?"
     "Rampantly fondling your exquisite bottom for starters, then inevitably proceeding to minutely examining and extensively palpating sundry other delightful architectural details of your fleshly delectation that I have come to admire."
     "I see.  Well, ahem, you seem to have discovered the key to an English teacher's heart, and loins, is a large vocabulary.  Dirty talk with a high IQ.  I like it.
     "Oh where the devil was I?  Oh yes.  I suppose if I wanted to warm up a few eyeballs I could probably manage it, but sweet man my delectations are for your eyes only and forever.  That's why I usually dress to de-emphasize to some degree.  Now the tango salon is another matter.  I don't mind being rather more daring there.  After all half the men there are gay, and the other half have brought their own sweeties upon which to drool."
     "Oh good grief Diane.  If you present a more stunningly erotic image there than in the past I'm going to need a portable defibrillator."
     "You're sweet.  Well, have you learned enough about dress sizes and whatnot?"
     "I do believe I have.  Most importantly I've learned to never ever ask a woman her dress size."
     "Smart man."
     "Another thing I've learned is that a size six is the utter pinnacle of perfection."
     "Now that my darling is the most shameless flattery I've ever heard.  Keep it up."
     He grimaced.  "I may regret saying this, but, well, you are just so incredibly pretty and sexy to me but blast it what the heck do I know?  You are the first person of your gender I have ever actually seen in the altogether.  Just walking down the street it's plain that you are more lusciously configured than ninety-nine percent of the women I see, but that's with everyone fully clothed.  As far as the undraped form goes, about the most experience I've had is with sculpture.  Even then a statue can't match you."
     "Auggghhhhh!  That's just awful, but the sentiment certainly is not."
     "There is something else on my mind.  Not that I've ever had much occasion to actually indulge in it, but I keep hearing that these days that it's seriously bad form for men to blatantly objectify women.  However my darling wife, I am forced to admit that part of what I feel for you is due to the fact that you are so wrenchingly beautiful to me.  Is this just irredeemably shallow?"
     "Oh Francis, of course not.  My love, don't you know I feel the very same way?  I adore your form just as much as your heart and mind and to me it is powerfully erotic.  You are handsome, just tall enough, and beautifully slim with not an unnecessary ounce on you.  Don't forget that we were falling in love with each other before we even spoke, and that had to be because of looks alone.  Well maybe pheromones had something to do with it."
     She shook her head and sighed.  "I don't know why it happened Francis, I really don't, but when I saw you I had this overwhelming feeling of...rightness, this fierce sense of  'This then, is him.'  I did not know there was a him.  I did not know I needed a him.  And then he walked in and I felt my mind open and sunlight pour in.  It sounds a little crazy when I lay it out like that, but strange as it may sound, all that could have only been prompted by the way you looked."
     "Or maybe it was too much Shakespeare swimming around in my head for too many years.  Maybe it was the hand of God.  Whatever led up to it, it was the mere sight of you that caused a billion volts of lightning to strike me. We did fall instantly in love, and that instant of love has only deepened into what seems like a bottomless well."
     "That first instance of, well, truth was because of the way we looked to each other and although some might think it childishly shallow, it did happen that way.  Oh my Francis, our physical attraction for each other is part of our love for each other, not some aspect that should be separate in any way.  Don't you think that's how it should be?" 
     By way of an answer he drew her into his arms, kissed her furiously, slipped his hand under her robe, let it roam.  After they came up for air he smiled, shook his head, let his fingers glide lightly across her tummy.  "Diane, did...did we rescue some children from a burning building or something?  Despite what I've said we must have done something extraordinary to deserve all this."
     She put her hand on his cheek.  "My Francis we did rescue someone.  We rescued each other."
     He nodded yes but did not speak.  What he thought was,  I am right about one thing my love.  I don't deserve you because no one could.
     He stroked her tummy again.  "Have you lost weight since you left the order?"
     "Well yes, a little.  About ten pounds or so.  Mostly off my hips and middle thank heavens.  I'm eating healthier since I left the order.  Less as well.  It's not been intentional, although I'm certainly not complaining.  Since I left the order I've been so gobsmacked by Cupid I just don't have the appetite I did before.  To be honest I was thoroughly gobsmacked before you left, so I might have eaten a little more in compensation since I didn't have any real outlet for my feelings, thus putting on a few pounds."
     Actually, I wasn't as sedentary as you might think while I was at St. Camilla's.  Several times during the week we had time blocked out in the school's pool in the evening when no kids were around.  I usually took advantage of it to get in twenty or thirty laps.  Oh brother.  You should have seen those suits we had to wear.  They were beyond hideous, and about as hydrodynamic as a bale of cotton."
     "So when we met I looked little different than I do now except for the length of my hair.  Shucking what we called the 'penguin suit' is basically responsible for all of the outward visual change.  That darn thing made me look at least twenty pounds heavier than I was.  It didn't make me look dowdy.  It made me look three yards past dumpy.  It did the job it was supposed to do I suppose, which was keeping most of those adolescent hormone cases from continually mentally undressing me.  I'm sure some did anyway."
     He laughed.  "Having been an adolescent boy, I can tell you with certainty that they all mentally undressed you at one time or another, probably daily.  That penguin suit wasn't the least impediment to my imagination.  But, even if it had been perfectly cylindrical and made from armor plate I doubt it would have mattered.  Neither does this robe.  If I had any starch in my collar I'd be ripping it off in a fury."
     "Oh you would eh?"  She popped up from the couch.  You wait right there.  Don't move."
     She rummaged in her suitcase, found a small box, then took it into the bathroom with her.  A minute later she emerged and padded toward him.   His hand went to his chest and he goggled.  She was wearing, if that was quite the word, something.  Something that covered her from neck to floor and was as insubstantial as an ebon fog.   She twirled and it floated away from her.  An hour or two later it fell to the floor again.  "Like it?"
     "My God honey, you look more naked in it than out.  Like it?  I'm lucky I'm not having a coronary event as we speak.  It's..it's...well holy crud, next to you it's the most incredible thing I've ever seen!"
     "It's a secret wedding present from Edda.  She said it was on the strictest QT, but if she doesn't tell Juliette about it I'll be shocked."
     "Why am I not surprised?  Remind me to give Burberella a huge thank you hug and kiss when we get back."
     "Burberella?  What's tha.....oh I get it. Never saw it."
     "Me either, but it spawned a million movie posters.  Just what do you call that nonexistent garment?"
     "Well Edda called it a negligee, but I've never seen one like this."
     "That's because it is probably illegal in thirty states."
     He heaved himself to his feet and stood in front of her.
     "I'm glad you like it Francis.  I would never..."
     "Diane!" he interrupted.  "Love of my life, light of my soul...shut up."
     Her eyes widened then his mouth found hers.  Her eyes closed instantly.
     The negligee was the perfect size.

12 Noon.  Day 3.

      An hour later Francis was gasping like a beached carp as he flopped down beside his wife.  She had not changed position at all.  Slowly she let her arms, legs, and body, relax.  She felt woozy, almost heavy, as her furnace heat slowly ebbed.  In a few minutes she recovered enough to speak.  "Well that makes eight."
     "Eight?  But we only.....ohhhhh my.  Really?"
     "Yes really although it's a bit hard to keep count but don't feel smug about it."  She opened her mouth to say something else but abruptly snapped it shut.  "What am I saying?  Francis my love, you just go right ahead and feel as smug about it as your heart desires, with no objections from me.  It takes two to mambo and you my darling are utterly indispensable to the wondrous feelings I have when we couple."
     "My Francis it is your presence, your heart, your love and not merely your exquisite physicality or good instincts that make me buck and thrash and yelp.  If I say anymore I'll embarrass myself, but kissing would be good."  It was, very.
     Through numbed lips she said, "Francis, I hate to ask you to go out again, but I'm still really peckish and really really parched.  We need to keep our strength up and I need fluids or....or things may not be as, uh, slippery as they have been so far."
     "Holy cats!  That must be avoided at all costs."  He jumped out of bed, threw on shirt, pants, shot out the door.  While he was gone she took the opportunity to rearrange herself, smooth her negligee, brush her hair, dab on a little gloss and blusher.  When he returned she had arranged herself in what she hoped was a seductive stance a little way from the door.  When the door swung open noonday glare fell full upon her.
     Francis moved to pick up the bags he had set on the concrete.  As he bent his eyes strayed toward her.  His breath froze in his throat.  Blood rushed to his face, his heart banged as he beheld a radiant vision of literally stupefying loveliness and crushing eroticism.  He had always thought of Diane as hot, but now she had gone thermonuclear.
     She waved at him.  "Come in honey, come in."  She grinned.  "What will the neighbor's think?"
     He picked up the bags and sagged through the door, quickly shut it behind him.  "The neighbors will think, correctly, that my wife is trying to give me a heart attack, again.  He stared unabashedly.  "My God Diane, do you have any idea how incredible you look?  I think you just became illegal in all fifty states."
     "You approve?"
     "Do I approve?  He struggled to swallow.  "Diane honey, I approve of the Chartres Cathedral, the Great Pyramid, and the Grand Canyon.  The only possible response to...to this"  He waved both hands at her.  "is to collapse at your feet in a quivering heap of hormone saturated Jello.   Please take that off before we have to call the EMS to shock me back to life."
     She bent down, grabbed the hem of the negligee and smoothly pulled it up over and off, then let it waft to the floor.  She resumed her stance.
     He coughed.  "Oh that's much better.  For the love 'a Mike put on a robe before I suffer permanent damage."
     She did as instructed and sat down on the couch.  He put a Diet Coke and burger with no-salt fries from Tilly's Diner before her.  He pointed at the puddle of smoke on the carpet.  "That thing should be licensed as a weapon of mass distraction.  If Il Papa ever got a look at it he'd issue a special encyclical railing against it.  U.N. commissions would be convened to ban its use under provisions of the Geneva Convention."
     She munched a fry and sipped soda.  "So you do approve."
     "Oh God Diane.  You look so far beyond spectacular in it that I simply don't have the words.  Heck, Shakespeare wouldn't have the words.  The best I can come up with is sublime but lethal.  If Edda wore it in front of Amos her virginity would be history in about two seconds flat."
     She chuckled.  "Well then, as the owner of a lethal weapon I promise to always use it responsibly."
     "Well, not too responsibly I hope."
     She smiled,  "No, not too ."
     A bit later she leaned back.  "Ah health food."  "My Francis, your flattery about size six being perfect made me think of mom and Gramma.  I'm sorry I've never told you much of anything about my family.  Lots of very painful memories there I'm afraid.  Both my grandmother and mother died in a car accident about twelve years ago and daddy essentially drank himself to death two years later grieving for mom."
    His eyes moistened suddenly and he reached for her hand. "Oh honey, I am so so sorry.  I had no idea."  He took her into his arms and hugged her gently.  "Oh Diane my love, the thought of you enduring such pain and grief is just...just shattering to me.  I don't know what to say."
     She patted his cheek.  "It's okay my Francis, honestly it is.  We've had the most stupendous luck in finding each other, but not with our families.  It's been long enough now to have gained a little perspective on it but I still get teary once in a while.   I am so very glad Florence was there for me.  She comforted me through an ocean of tears.  Now you, well, you never really knew your parents.  At least I have memories of mine."
     He wagged his head.  "Boy, did that lame attempt at flattery backfire on me."
     "Oh poo.  Did you really mean it?"
     "Oh yeah.  As my uncle Jay used to say, 'You ain't just distlin' whicksy', but you sure know how to hide your lights under a bushel basket.  As you've said you try to dress conservatively.  That tango dress though.  The first time you wore it I had to stare at your angelic face the whole time, a long way from punishment to be sure, but if I had concentrated on your form swimming around in that dress, and oh holy crud that slit skirt, I'm pretty sure there would have been a public arglefargle incident.  You said you wouldn't mind getting more daring in that venue, but too daring and a portable defib might not be enough."
     "Hah!  You should have seen the dress Edda picked out for me.  It made the one I actually wore look like arctic survival gear.  I thought it would be terribly unfair of me to wear something that would have made a stripper blush on what was our first real date.  Plus I didn't want to risk offending you somehow.  The couple of times I've worn something slinky you weren't exactly enthusiastic about it."
     Abruptly he yanked on the belt of her robe and threw it completely open.  Slowly, deliberately,  he swept his gaze from her toes all the way to her eyes.  "Katie Diane, when you are with me you wear whatever the heck you want whenever the heck you want.  I don't care if a whole pack of drooling slobs mentally undress you.  I have you and they have my pity."
     He thought he saw a tear begin to trickle.  Time to change the subject.  "Speaking of pity, I really feel for Amos.  That poor boy has to endure Edda wearing outfits that would make a harem eunuch weep.  I asked Seth about it one time and he said he allows Edda to wear such getups for Amos and Amos only.  For the few other guys she's dated he won't let her out of the house in any of her spray-painted wardrobe.  Amos must have the control of a Tibetan monk to endure her duds without multiple public arglefargles."
     "Hmmm.  If you'd like Edda to choose something, er, stimulating but not invisible for you to wear while, say, washing dishes or vacuuming the floor I would magnanimously assent to that."
     She grinned.  "I'll bet you would.  I'll put her to work on it.  Of course I can't guarantee it will be worn for more than five seconds before frantic blompity blomping breaks out."
     He chuckled.  "Too true.  I'm not sure how much difference it would make anyway.  If you only wore garments made from flour sacks and scrap iron I'd still be constantly slavering after you.  He ran his hand through her hair, sighed, and said,  "Oh Diane do you know that you are perfect?"
     She opened her mouth to speak but he wagged his hand.  "No no my love, what I mean is that to me, for me, you are precisely and perfectly all I can ever imagine wanting in a friend, a companion, a lover, a wife, an intellect.  Everything about you, your mind, your voice, your face, your form, your hair, eyes, nose, ears etcetera unto a google of etceteras, is my perfection."
     "Oh my Francis please stop.  You're going to make me cry.  You don't have to pile it on so my love.  You already have me, period, end of discussion.  I'll never let you get away from me.  If you try I'll be hanging on to your leg as you drag me down the street."
     "When I say you have me I mean just that.  You actually own me.  Remember what I said?  I am your woman, your wife.  I belong to you now.  I certainly never imagined I would say such a thing but I really mean it, as antediluvian as it might sound.  To be sure you don't control my mind, but I consider myself as much your appendage as the legs that keep you upright.  I do not really exist as an independent entity anymore.  This omelet cannot be unscrambled.  And I own you as well.  You're my man, my husband, my world entire."
     He pulled on his ear and grimaced.  "Maybe we shouldn't get too carried away by this ownership business.  I will tell you that if any other man ever so much as touches you I will snuff out his miserable life with my bare hands."
     "And how exactly does such delicious jealousy differ from ownership my husband?"
     "Blast it, you are not my property.  Property has no say in it who owns it."
     "Yes yes.  My love for you is not under my conscious control.  I am your woman, not someone else's. You without doubt own my heart, and sorry bub but the rest of me goes along for the ride."

''One half of me is yours, the other half yours
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours.''

     "Next."
     "Okay, uh, absent illegality one may do with property as one pleases."
     "Uh-huh.  You may sweetly do with and to me what you please.  Can you conceive of ever doing anything to intentionally harm me?"
     "I'd rather slit my throat, but sweetie a human being who is property is a slave."
     "I am your slave."
     "How can you say that?"
     "Rinse and repeat.  You may do with and to me as you please, but can you even imagine ever asking me to do an illegal, dishonorable or un-Godly act?  Do you not worship only God above me?
     Francis could feel himself getting a little dizzy.  "My love I think we may be treading a bit too close to blasphemy, but nevertheless you are absolutely right.  It is not even a slight exaggeration to say that I would lay down my life for you.  I do worship only God above you, only just barely I might add.  I do worship you.  Beyond reason, far beyond prudence, and even unto the peril of my soul do I love and worship you."
     "So, do you own this slave of yours or not?"
     "Okay okay I concede the point.  Still makes me nervous though."
     "Think of it this way.  We have dual ownership of this union that nothin' no-how can ever put asunder.  We are each slave to the other, a mutual adoration society.  That make it sound better?"
     "Why yes it does, and I heartily concur.  It strikes me that I may come to rue marrying an English teacher and a logic chopper extraordinaire, even though those are two of the things I love about you the most.  Crimony, you don't merely chop logic you grind it into pate' and serve it on toast points.  I am helpless against your superpowers.  This master slave business though sounds just so, I don't know, biblical I guess.  Slavery abounded in the Holy Land in antiquity, it still exists today, and masters mostly abused their slaves, especially their female ones whom they frequently used as merely convenient catch buckets for their carnal emissions.  They crudely and roughly blomped them at their leisure and their leisure only.  Worship was far from their minds."
     "Unsavory historical connotations noted my love.  I'm sorry if I touched a nerve in my reckless enthusiasm."
     "Silly woman.  Do you fancy that anything, from a conversational hiccup to the last trump, could alter the way I feel about you.  If so then think again.  That, as they say, ain't a happenin' thing,  And don't swat me for saying ain't teach."
     She was quiet for a little while then,  "Francis, this is just so nice.  So very nice talking to you like this.  I think we've talked to and about each other more in the last three days than in all the months since I left the order.  You've certainly found out what a loquacious critter I am.  Why do you suppose the floodgates are open now?"
     "That's a good question.  I'm not really sure.  I do know I've been enjoying it as much as you have.  If I had to guess I'd say that over the last few months the sexual tension between us has been unbelievably intense, and now it's been entirely and exquisitely released.  When we were together before now, when we kissed, watched movies, visited friends, went dancing, that tension in some way wouldn't let us dig all that deeply into our feelings, at least not out loud."
     "Now the tension is gone, and perhaps that has somehow made us feel free to open up to each other.   There's a lot of opening we've needed to do, and a lot more to come I hope.  I've heard it said that real men don't like to talk about feelings with their partners, so I guess I'm not one of those real men because aside from making love to you I can't think of anything I'd rather do than talk about feelings, or anything else, with my beautiful brilliant erudite wife."
     She goggled at him.  She drew a deep breath and literally yelled at him,  "I LOVE YOU!"  Then she leaped at him and smashed her lips into his.
     A few minutes later she was gasping and breathless.  She hung her head and let herself recover for a bit.  She stood, let her robe slip to the floor.
     "Francis?"
     "Yes my love?"
     "At this juncture you should know that I find myself burdened with an enormous oversupply of living daylights."
     "What?   Ohhhhh......"


11:30 A.M.  Day Five.

     Diane was trying to talk around mouthfuls of Cracker Barrel salad.  "So this is, mpmf, what the real world looks like?  I had forgotten.  Pretty dull compared to our love nest."
     "That it is.  What I can't understand is why all the men in this place aren't staring at you in drooling undisguised lust."
     "Oh my Francis, God bless your eyes of love.  They make me about five hundred percent more attractive than I really am.  Oh sure I know I'm not that bad looking, but Gwyneth Paltrow I'm not."
     "Gwyneth Paltrow?  Phooey, although I have to admit she was pretty hot in Shakespeare In Love.  Naturally I kept imagining her with your face."
     "Hmmm.  I think maybe we've been spending a little too much time around Edda, Seth, and Mark.  They can hold entire conversations with nothing but movie references.  Okay, so now what?  What's next on this honeymoon of ours light of my life and owner of my soul?  This is what, day five of a supposed three week trip? "
     "Yes, that's right.  I'm sure the itinerary Seth mapped out for us is fine, but we've completely ignored it thus far, so I think I'm going to tear it up and deposit it in the nearest round file.  I begrudge every minute you're not in my arms.  I'm just so indescribably mad for you and I want that feeling to stretch as far as we can manage because all too soon we'll be back in the workaday, back in the world, back where people care what you do and say and when you'll say and do it.  So I'm all for just meandering up the road to a pretty spot, finding the nearest inn, and escaping the world for a few more days.  Repeat for the rest of these three weeks.  How's that sound?"
     "Just about bloody perfect my master."
     "Oh just stop with this master and slave business okay?  If any of our friends should ever hear of it we'll never live it down."
     "Killjoy.  Alright If you insist I will cease forthwith, but I was having fun imagining myself an odalisque at the beck and call of her lordly sultan."
     "Oh there'll be as much becking and calling as the flesh will allow don't you worry.  Speaking of the flesh, we finally got eight hours sleep last night, and brother I needed it.  Amos or Seth might be able to keep up this pace, but they are far younger than I and my batteries needed a bit of recharge along with my, uh, hydraulic reservoirs, the little traitors.  Our last time I could have," he glanced around to see if anyone was in earshot, "gone for another hour without issuing forth so much as a drop.  What is wrong with us anyway?  We're like two bundles of hopelessly demanding erectile tissue concerned solely with their own pleasure."
     She arranged a dreamy smile on her face.  "We're making up for lost time.  We're attempting to stuff twenty years of sensual exploration into three weeks.  I could kick myself that when you showed up at Seth's apartment the first time I didn't fling myself into your arms, blurt out that I was hopelessly in love with you and for God's sake marry me, today if possible."
     "I know I know, that's not fair.  You were still a priest and I felt terribly guilty being in love with you.  Plus I was a huge bundle of nerves.  I had left my calling of eighteen years and my home of fourteen just a few days earlier.  So I was still a nun emotionally, and you were still a priest in reality.  It's a miracle I didn't just spontaneously combust when I opened the door and you were standing there.  You're lucky I was merely struck dumb."
     "You had no idea I was that gaga over you, and if nothing else that ridiculous niece business that popped out of Seth's febrile noggin allowed us some sort of courtship, odd as it was, to see if we truly felt the way we thought we did."
     "Katie Diane, for my part I still can't believe that I did not instantly recognize you.  I mean it had been over a year since I had seen you, and in street clothes, with a little makeup and your beautiful hair around your face I just failed to see, well, you.  Remember too that I did not even know your given name.  I suppose I could have asked Sister Steven, but I'm not sure she would have told me. I spent my little talk with her denying, very unconvincingly, that I had ever done anything to lead you on."
     "At least I don't think I did intentionally.  But that's the thing about intentions.  At the raw edge of the margins things can get awful dicey.  My intentions didn't matter a whit.  I did lead you on, if by that you mean I was simply unable to take my eyes off of you or thrill to your presence or voice.  My stupid face is just an open book I'm afraid, and Sister Steven doubtless could read chapter and verse.  By the time I left I might as well have scrawled I Love You Sister Aramus in two foot high letters on your blackboard."
     "And oh my love, I hope you can forgive me for being such a coward.  When I walked away from you on that bench at St. Camilla's I knew you were my moon and stars. I knew it, and yet I did nothing, for a year, a year Katie Diane, idiotically languishing in indecision and terrified of abrogating my vows, until Sister Steven told me you had left not just there, but your calling as well.  The news just exploded through me and all I could think was 'She's out she's out she's out!  She must be in love with me to make such a huge decision.  Mustn't she?  Dearest God I hope so.  Gotta find her.  Gotta find her and tell I feel the same way. Gotta Gotta."
     "I am so terribly ashamed that I did not come back far sooner, but I was torn to my very roots.  It took Sister's hand grenade of news exploding underneath my butt to spark the fire that should have been there all along.  I had waited on you to make the first real move.  It was cowardly, and unmanly.  Again, I beg your forgiveness.  In any case, the grenade went off under my butt and in my head at the same time.  So in a panic I flew to you."
     "Well maybe fly is not the right word.  I had flatly denied to Sister Steven there was something between us.  More cowardice.  On top of that she had not actually told me where you were and I couldn't see myself asking her.  Yet more cowardice.  I did find out where you were before I left there though.  When I left Sister Steven's office her secretary, can't remember her name but God bless her, had a sheet of paper on her desk to which she wordlessly pointed.  In big letters it said, 'New York Upper West Side'.  I could have kissed her.  She immediately crumpled it and threw it in the wastebasket as I fled."
     "After I left St. Camilla's I mooched around in a depression, thinking, agonizing, and happened to cross the path of Thorax.  In his meandering lunatic way he managed to demolish any notions I had of thinking the importance of my vocation was above my love for you.  So after a rather uncomfortable visit with the Bishop I raced to New York.  I'm glad you got to meet the crazy old coot, Thorax I mean.  He's completely bonkers but he's an analytical genius."
     "I was wandering aimlessly around said Upper West Side when Sister Steven called me and cagily asked me to look up Edda at the City Ballet who might know where you were.  I'm pretty sure she knew full well where you were and was just giving me a swift kick in the tookus to get me in high gear.  It worked.  One other thing I remember when she was interrogating me.  She said that she didn't know why you had left.  I can't believe that either.  I think she wanted me to work at least a little at finding out about you myself."
     "It had been a long drive to the city though, and that can be a big problem sometimes.  Gives one time to think about things like responsibilities, repercussions, and potential disappointments.  So like a good meek little priest I decided I was going to sound you out about things first.  Idiot.  To make matters worse was I was fooled by the niece gambit, or to be more accurate I let myself be fooled.  I was just a big old confused love-sick doofus."
     "And oh my Lord, when I started rattling on about how you looked so much younger than your aunt, stupid stupid stupid.  Of course you looked younger out of that doggone burnoose.  I swear a full nun's habit visually ages a woman a decade.  Out of it you suddenly had a delightful figure and, and...you dropped a decade in the merest moment.  I deserve ten hearty dope slaps for not realizing that.  My only defense is that you really really looked that much different.  Spectacularly different.  Magically different.  Yank my heart out by the roots and jump up and down on it different."
     "And then like a complete nincompoop I thought I was falling in love with this Diane person and not my demure Sister.  But really in every conceivable way I was already in love with 'Diane', already in love with the physical reality of one certain person, and such irrelevancies as a name were just not important.  My addled brain was telling me that you were the niece of my beloved, but my gut was saying this is no niece pal, this is the real smokin' deal.  It was you.  You you you."
     "But I was a dope dope dope.  Eventually, I overheard Edda and Janice talking about what Seth had done, and what I should have done was arrow straight toward you, tell you that I loved you and I didn't care who you were, but please for the love of Almighty God marry me this instant!   But nooooo.  I ran to, heaven help me, Thorax, who for once approached conciseness and in far fewer words than usual told me to get the hell out of his sight and go find my woman."
     "I was and am in love with you, the mind, soul, and body of you, the magical and unique creature in front of me, and it just doesn't matter what numbers and letters appear on your driver's license.  I suppose we are both responsible for not being where we are today at least a year ago, but I demand ninety-nine percent of the blame and not a jot less.  Oh honey, as far as I'm concerned we have been, in every respect that really counts, married since the first second we saw each other.  It just took this long to make it official.  And to think we could have been mamboing horizontally all this time.  I'll shut up now."
     "Please my Francis, no more regrets.  It took a year for us to finally allow ourselves to admit to and act on our feelings, but we are together now however tortured the way, and that's what matters above all.  We need to get out of here because I think I'm going to cry.  Let's go back to the room.  I need you to hold me tight.  I need to melt into you."
     She did cry, great heaving sobs of despair about how close they had come to not having each other in their lives.  She cried with transcendent joy at how stupendously lucky she was to have found this man.  Francis held her close, never saying a word. stroking her hair, being his comforting self, understanding.  She cried with happiness for that as well.  She would quiet down for a while and then sob uncontrollably again. 
     After the longest while she sniffed a last sniffle and pushed herself away from him, used a proffered hanky to dry her eyes.  She crossed herself, and pressed her palms together.  Quietly she began to pray.
     "Holy Mary mother of our Lord Jesus, hear my prayer.  I love this man, this wonderful and unique man.  I beseech you to watch over him, protect him, guide him, bless him and carry him in your heart as I do.  Of God's creatures on earth he is one of which you should be most proud.  He is a good man, a devout man, a gentle caring intelligent man, the man of all my dreams and aspirations.  I beg you to forgive me for abandoning my calling to be with him for I had no choice.  He is the other half of my soul and I must hew unto him so long as we both shall live.  For these things I humbly pray.  In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritu Sancti.  Amen."
     She lowered her hands.  It was Francis who was crying now.  Now she held him.
     After a while he spoke.  "Wow.  How did we get so lucky?"
     "Well, there's this Seurat painting...



10 P.M.  Day 8

     They lay quietly, enfolded, the music of their love pianissimo.
     After a while he pulled her yet closer.  "Katie Diane, this is probably something someone with my background would almost never say but...I..I really do think that magic exists."
     "Why do you say that, my love?"
     "Because...because I simply don't understand how your existence is possible without it."
     She gasped.  "Oh oh oh....oh my Francis my darling my love.  That is the sweetest most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me."  She clutched him as tightly as she could.  "May the Lord God help me I do love you so."  The music soared to...
Con Amarosa Anima.  Accelerando.  Furioso Trionfale.  Diminuendo.  Placido.

     "Katie Diane, you know why people play the lottery don't you?"
     She traced his lips with a finger.  "Tell me why, my Francis."
     "For the imagined rush of being the luckiest so and so in a hundred million.  But that's nothing.  We played a billion to one shot you and I.  We struck it rich my darling.  We won this love of ours, a treasure infinitely far beyond the dreams of avarice."
     "Truth my Francis."
     "You know, you always call me 'my' Francis now.  Please don't ever stop doing that."
     "I promise. my Francis.  And you've been calling me Katie Diane.  Don't stop that either.  Gives the sweet fuzzies every time.  Makes me feel a little like Vivian Leigh."
     "So now you're on board with the movie references?"
     "Considering who our closest friends are, I'm just going to have to bow to the inevitable.  Seth and Mark especially would be rendered dumb with the lack.  Perhaps everyone feels their friends are all mildly or wildly neurotic, and ours aren't much different, but I simply adore them.  All of them, heck even Thorax.  Every one of them has a fine mind and a heart the size of Radio City.  I'd be crushed if we alienated or lost track of any of them." 
     "I know, I love all of them as well.  It's funny, but sometimes I am tempted to parent the youngsters, but I bring myself up short because when you think about it, all of them, even Amos and Edda, have drunk the pungent juices of life more than we have.  In that regard we're younger than the lot of them.  We are making up for lost time at warp speed though." 
     "Katie Diane, down through the years I've had to, uh, see to my own needs as it were.  How was it with you?"
     "Well I did, occasionally, but I made up for it in the most perverse way possible.  I felt really bad about it.  However after we met I began to see to my needs a bunch.  A whole bunch since I left the order as well.  You weren't kidding about that sexual tension business.  It was either resolve the issue frequently, or force you to take me in the back seat of your sedan.  Speaking of which, will you take me in the back seat of your sedan?  Oh wait.  That 'take me' thing is just not going to work with us because you can't 'take me', implying force, if I already have my clothes off before you can get within ten feet of me."
     "Well then.  I will eagerly join you in the back seat of my sedan."
     "Goody.  Bet you never thought you'd be marrying an absolute raging nympho."
     "In truth I did not.  In equal truth I can scarce believe my luck."
     "How about you after we met?"
     "Well yes, but whoo boy it was a fraught business I can tell you.  Did you know that hardly any rectory doors have locks?  The idea that someone, anyone, could walk in and observe me 'seeing to my needs' tended to stay my hand from the plow.  Except of course the day we first parted.  Oh man I had to throw a bath towel in the trash.  Couldn't risk the laundry lady having a stroke by seeing the linen standing up by itself."
     "My Francis, since my transition to the laity I've had to take, er, preventative measures if I knew I was going to be in your presence.  Turns out my true love's pheromones are like a triple shot of espresso to my nether regions. When we kissed and cuddled I was grateful you assiduously avoided my antipodes.  If you hadn't I was dead sure our pre-marital chastity would dive straight out the window."
     "Too true, Katie Diane.  I know that would have been a long way from a tragedy, but I thought it important to show my respect for you in that manner.  But I have to say that never has respect been so close to the knife edge.  Beside if what we've done, er, lately had actually occurred a few months ago, and thus be considered a sin, it's a breach of doctrine for which I would gladly have risked purgatory."
     "My Francis, if that had occurred and was baring our passage through the Pearly Gates, then so be it.  If you are not in Heaven then whither thou goest so shall I.  I was utterly boiling in frustration, but I don't think it could have actually happened my Francis.  If it had then, knowing us, we would have probably heaped enough guilt on ourselves to make us terribly uncomfortable around each other."
     "There are so many ways we can't escape who we are, my love.  We both chose the courses our lives would take, and to a large extent the people we would become.  We may no longer be nun and priest, but we are still devout Catholics, considerably more so than the typical parishioner I feel sure.  We aren't going to leave that all behind, and I don't think we should leave it behind."
     "We have been conditioned, for some very good reasons, to think sex outside of wedlock is a sin.  Think about it.  We were wildly and desperately in love with each other yet it took a year of the most terrible emotional agonies for us to act on leaving our vocations.  After all that I really don't think either of us was going to take the chance of adding another serious sin to the tally.  And it very much would have been a sin, for us, and I don't know about you but I'm glad we did not take the chance of diluting the magical intensity of the last week.  Did I say glad?  I meant deliriously grateful."
     "By the bye.  I'm sorry for all the waterworks the other day.  Whatever pressured that flood of tears out of me seems entirely gone.  Oh I might occasionally sob with joy due to your very existence but outside of that..."  Her eyes twinkled.
     "Good Heavens woman.  Can a mortal man live up to such exalted expectations?"
     "Oh, I suppose there might be the teensiest possibility I might overstating those expectations, but I have to say that since we met you have not failed to live up to them."
     "Aren't you forgetting bolting from the knee of my proposal and haring off to New Hampshire to solicit the advice of a madman?"
     "Oh that.  Honey, I'm so sorry I pushed you over in a fit of pique.  I was a fool to doubt.  My only defense is that I was as nervous as you.  I will not doubt again.  Besides, now I know that as whacko as Thorax may be he is still a valuable resource.  Actually it was Edda who came to my rescue.  She managed to convince me that I would be a fool to let you get away from me, and she was absolutely right.  I am done with doubt."
     "I wish I was as confident as you that I will always merit that lack of doubt."
     "Have faith my Francis.  Have faith.  We are finally and properly mated.  Everything else depends on the vicissitudes of life, but that fact is unalterable.  I have not observed a single thing about you that tells me that I might have to someday endure this marriage rather than rejoicing in it.  Perhaps that's pollyanna-ish, but I have faith that it will come right just like the improbable lottery that brought us together.  A chaste and observant nun and priest fall desperately in love and against all odds are finally together and happy.   I mean come on.  Compared to that winning the lottery is a sure thing."
     "If we had enough love for each other to make the sacrifice of leaving our callings, can we not make the sacrifices required for a long and fruitful marriage?  Can this almost bizarre level of commitment not sustain us through grief and loss, financial problems, all the myriad breakers of marriage that you and I have seen in our parishioners through the years?  I am extremely hopeful it will, I love you, but I suppose, I love you, we will just, I love you, have to see, I love you."

''Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.''

     "Enough worrying my Francis.  Those pesky daylights keep flooding back in."


11:00 A.M.  Day 11


     "Diane honey, wake up.  Come on now, wake up."
     She stretched and forced her eyes open.  "What time is it?"
     "About eleven."
     "Oh my Lord.  Did I just sleep ten whole hours?"
     "Yes you did, and I know you must be starving so I fetched the dregs of this establishment's fabulous 'Continental Breakfast', which consists of some fruit, a couple of bagels and some fresh coffee I had them brew.  So rise and shine."
     "Well then, lemme up."  He pulled her to her feet, hugged her, kissed her, and handed her a robe.  She scuttled into the bathroom, brushed her hair, washed her face.
     "It's a good thing this coffee is fresh.  Lousy coffee is always better fresh.", Francis observed.
     "Bagel still seems fresh as well.", she said after a bite thereof.
     "So my Francis, what's the weather like out there?"
     "Cool and cloudy.  Not like the rainbows and blue skies in here."
     She guffawed.  "Oh good grief.  Are we trapped in greeting card land now?"
     He laughed but did not respond.  He leaned back on the couch and sipped his coffee. 
     After a while she said,  "Penny for your thoughts."
     "Hmmm.  You remember the day of our first kiss?  It was beyond magical my love, but things seemed to instantly go haywire and we would have huffed away from each other if Seth and Edda had not intervened."
     "Oh yes.  I doubted you my love, for the first time, with the only real cause my silly vanity."
     "Yes, you told me you wouldn't doubt again and I love you for saying that, but I've been thinking about what a thin thread on which even the most powerful love can sometimes hang.  It's like all those movies and plays where someone is not in full awareness of some circumstance, or has misinterpreted something and conflict rears its head, ugly mean things are said, accusations and rancor fill the air.  Sure it all comes right at the end, but we both know that Hollywood life is in no way shape or form like real life."
     "For instance.  The moment after we first kissed I should have instantly opened my yap to tell you that I had only just found out that you were really my precious Sister Aramus not her niece, and I was an idiot for not recognizing you immediately, but it doesn't matter at all because I am profoundly in love with you my darling Sister Aramus Katherine Diane Fallon, forever."
     "Instead I made that stupid remark about Sister Steven dragging you back to your order, and after I did tell you I loved you I sure as heck shouldn't have mentioned Thorax and Monty.  If I had lost you just because of those silly misunderstandings it would have killed me, and I'm not speaking metaphorically, at all.  Thank heaven for Seth.  Good Lord, what must be the size of our debt to him by now?"
     "Katie Diane.  Will you promise me something?"
     "Anything my Francis."
     "If in the course of our daily lives I say something or you see something that seems off, or wrong, or mean, or even cruel, will you promise me to always assume there is a good reason for what you see or hear.  As God is my witness that will always be the case.  I could never intentionally hurt you, but I might inadvertently hurt you by some means of which I can't even think right now, but in the course of a long relationship, or when our situation becomes difficult, such instances are bound to occur.  I know it's a lot to ask, maybe too much, but could you promise me anyway?  If you do I will promise you the same."
     Her eyes were moist.  "Oh my Francis, I promise I promise.  What made you think of all this?"
     "Well, just in the last year I've acted like a big stupid doofus on several occasions, and it wouldn't surprise me if I grandly doofused up in the future on a regular basis.  We both know how hurt feelings can metastasize into something dreadful and damaging.  You know how awfully naive I can be at times, and I can see that getting me into trouble if you are not supremely forgiving.  I could go on, but I think you understand my concern."
     He stroked a tear from her cheek.  "Oh Diane, as you have said our love is so intense it seems like an actual physical presence, and I do not doubt it can see us through an enormous amount of turmoil, pain, and grief, but can it overpower our own petty weaknesses?   I'm going to pray daily that it will, hourly if I have to.  I hope and will pray that I am kind enough, understanding enough, wise enough, strong enough, and most importantly, although it may sound odd to hear it, man enough to always and ever deserve your love."
     She said nothing although her heart was near to bursting.  What mere words would suffice?  She snuggled into his embrace, lay her head on his chest.  They cuddled quietly for a very long time, the small room thick with emotion but empty of speech.
     They made love.  They slept, woke, made love.  Looks and touch passed between them, but for many hours words did not.  They felt as if they were in the very embrace of God.  Why not?  It was as good an explanation as any for the palpable fog of love surrounding them.


4:00 P.M.  Day 16

     Early November had been unseasonably warm in New England, but now the penultimate month was preparing thermometers for the deep dive they always took in December.  Francis and Diane sat lightly bundled in rocking chairs on the porch of the little B&B they had found. 
     "My Francis.  Is this the first sunset we've actually witnessed?"
     "Yes Katie Diane, I do believe it is."
     They held hands, matched their rocks.
     "My Francis.  Do you think we live in a bubble?"
     "Mmmm?"
     "It seems to me that we are somehow in a bubble created by our circumstances.  We have spent the majority of our lives in holy orders, not cut off from the world to be sure, but in a very real sense insulated from it to a great degree.  You and I are both thirty-eight years old, but we have not participated, in a major way, in the last twenty years of the evolution of the society around us.  People our age are in general just not like us.  How could they be?  In a strange way it seems almost as if we are still in holy orders, at least compared to those we are around every day."
     "We do not profane or indulge in vulgarity.  We use precise complex language and, in the main, proper grammar.  We both dress conservatively at most times.  We both love old movies because they are not packed with crudity, profanity. and gratuitous sex.  We don't spend all day on the web, or fiddling with our phones, or mindlessly bury ourselves in social media. We have no urge to go nuts over some sports team.  Except for our very occasional trips to the tango salon, we don't spend time drinking or clubbing."
     "We don't proselytize our beliefs or publicly air our political preferences.  We love classical music, swing, and early rock while despising rap and hip-hop for its crudity and misogyny.  It seems almost as if we have parachuted into the twenty-first century straight from the 1950s.  Should we be concerned about this bubble we inhabit, wonderful as I think it is?"
     "Katie Diane.  I think it is a wonderful bubble as well, to the point where I feel defensive about anyone or anything trying to release us from it.  It is true that your description of us makes us, if not unique, very rare, especially in a place like New York, but I just don't see it as a problem.  We have intelligent wonderful friends who love us, respect us, and understand our backgrounds.  For that alone I wouldn't trade anything outside our bubble.  Besides, compared to some, the Hassidic community comes to mind, along with the Amish, we are as moderne as next week's new tech gadget."
     "We're not callow youngsters just forming our views of the world you know.  However much we feel like teenagers in love and kids with wonderful new toys, we are nevertheless stable responsible adults.  We seem to lack most of the racial and sexual prejudices of decades past, which would likely not be the case if we actually were from the 1950s."
     "So yes my love, we are in our own little bubble, a niche unto ourselves, and I quite like it that way.  I think we are lucky.  We met when we are the people we are now and not the people we were twenty years ago.  As you have mentioned, our callings in large part made us what we are even as they threw us into near crippling emotional conflict about leaving them.  Even if we had been in the same high school in 1987 the people we were then were so different we might as well have been on opposite sides of the planet.  So yes, we might be in what today's secular society may think is a highly peculiar bubble, but as long as you are in that bubble with me I don't care a fig for what is outside it."
     "You are a wise man, Francis Aidan Durly."
     "Don't know about that, but I am definitely a certified card-carrying fuddy-duddy and I intend to remain so.  But not," he squeezed her hand, "I repeat not behind closed doors I promise you.  There you will see someone who is as far from conservative as you'll ever encounter.   You okay with that?"
     "Oh God yes.  Or at least I'm okay with it if you don't mind sharing the space behind those doors with a nymphomaniac tart who can never get enough of your body, and your heart."
     "So it's a deal then.  Shake hands on it?"
     "Oh no.  I want to go back inside and vigorously shake something else until its hydraulic pressure is entirely released."
     "Now that's my kind of fuddy-duddy."


4 P.M.  Day 20

     They sat across from each other in a window booth of the near empty diner.  She picked at her slice of pie and stared out at the desultory traffic on the narrow highway close by.  Francis rested his chin on his palm and simply gazed at her.  It was the twentieth day.  They had not driven more than fifty miles the entire time.  They had stayed three different places of varying acceptability.  It simply had not mattered where they were on any given day or night.  They had spent hundreds of hours talking, kissing, cuddling, making love, and simply glorying in each other's presence.  There was immense joy in the wonder of their time alone, and ineffable sadness that it was finally time to go home.
     She sipped lukewarm coffee.  "My Francis, I don't relish trying to explain what we've experienced to anyone, but particularly not to Edda.  I love the girl, but I certainly can't tell her we've spent the entirety of our three week trip blomping our brains out.  The big Times Square signs have nothing on the adorable Miss Burber.  That reminds me.  Why in the world are Edda and Amos not blomping their brains out?  They should either declare open season on their desire and just do it already or get themselves married stat.  Makes no sense."
     "I know what you mean.  Doesn't make much sense to Seth either, or Juliette, or anyone who knows them really, but I have heard her say that she's waiting until her ballet career has had a decent run before they get married and, presumably, establish a regular mamboing and subsequent baby-making schedule.  Personally, I think they'll crack before that run is over."
     "Good Lord, talk about tension.  I was sure Amos was going to take her right on the dance floor the last time we all went to the tango salon.  If you'll excuse a possibly lewd observation, she is seriously ripe for the plucking, and as fine a lad as Amos is, he's not carved from marble.  And my word, the way she dresses.  Amos, or any man, would have to forged from flint steel to resist her.  Not me of course 'cuz you is my woman now and all others are dead to me."
    "No need for that addendum my love, but I appreciate it anyway.  Know what I was just thinking?  I was wondering why were we so nervous at our wedding that Seth had to carry us down the aisle by the literal scruffs of our necks?"
     "I'm not certain, but it could be because we were about to enter territory, i.e. the beginning of our physical love life, an area of which our experience was entirely bereft.  A virgin ex-priest and a virgin ex-nun getting married and then being expected to actually have sex?  I mean really.  I did want to take you to our marriage bower so bad my teeth hurt, but at the head of that aisle, at that moment, it felt to me as if the earth was spinning off its axis and we were being flung to a place where we never thought we would ever dare go."
     "It wasn't just an idle worry either.  I had no idea what I should do when we got to the bedroom.  I worried that I would turn out to be a clumsy oaf, should the lights should be on or off, should we should be on top of the covers or underneath them?  I was even worried I might hurt you somehow.  And so on and so blasted forth.   That it has turned out to be so insanely wonderful is a miracle of the first degree if you ask me.  How about you?  Why were you so nervous?"
     "My Francis I think you have pegged the thing precisely, and it wasn't until the door closed on our first room that I began to think it would all come right for us.  The only thing two middle-aged virgins in such a circumstance can do is to trust in what comes naturally and hope for the best, and son of a gun that's just what we got.  The best.  The very most incredible best imaginable.  You are right.  We're not just lucky, we're miracles on legs.  Our guardian angels are high-fiving each other right now.  They were probably just as worried as we were.  It's sad we have to go back, but that's the only thing that has been remotely sad about our exquisite idyll in the wilds of New Hampshire."
     "I love you Katie Diane.  Words I once never imagined I'd would get to say but within them are contained multitudes."
     "It must really be time to leave if you're quoting Whitman.  I love you my Francis.  Let's go home."


5 P.M.  Day 20

     The drive back was through heavy traffic, but neither of them complained since it stretched their remaining time.
     "Katie Diane.  We have talked about so many things, but not much about what happened between the time we met and the time you left St. Camilla's.  How did you finally decide to leave?"
     "My Francis, the first few months after we met I was nearly paralyzed by lovesickness.  I could think of little else but you.  People started having to say something two or three times before I would extract myself from my reverie.  I was having all manner of fantasies about you.  So much so that I felt like going to confession about it, but aside from our brief hand clasp I hadn't really done anything to confess.  I was, in short, a mess."
     "I was glad when Edda finally left to go to the city because during the time between our meeting and her leaving it was obvious from the appraising looks she would often give me that she knew what was going on.  She may have looked like a child, but she was, and is, just otherworldly smart and perceptive."
     "The day she came back from New York to talk to Sister Steven about her early graduation she dropped by my classroom on her way out.  When she walked in I must have been in one of my little trances because I heard someone clear their throat and I had no idea how long they had been standing there.  It was Edda and she was simply looking at me."
     "She smiled a little smile and raised her eyebrows in an obvious question mark.  I closed my eyes and nodded my head yes.  She knew precisely what that meant because she came over, hugged me from behind and said, 'I love you Sister Aramus.  Everyone in this school loves you. How could he not?'  Then she kissed me on the cheek and left.  I managed to wait until the door shut behind her before I burst into tears."
     "Not long after I finally realized I was acting like a simpering school girl and had better get myself together before someone noticed what a lousy job I had been doing in my classes.  I managed to straighten out myself enough to start to recover some degree of competence.  I also languished in indecision, painfully.  I was as conflicted about my vows as you truth be told.  I still burned with love for you, but the horrible knife in the heart feeling seemed to ease a little as the months went by."
     "After a nearly interminable year, things seemed to be much better, until one day I was walking along the breezeway to the auditorium when something happened.  To this day I can not put my finger on exactly what it was.  A sound, a sight, some aroma, some trigger of which I was not consciously aware, stopped me dead in my tracks."
     "It was cool, but I began to perspire heavily, my heart pounded like a bass drum, I couldn't breathe, I felt faint and my knees buckled.  Down I went.  Kids were there instantly and staff only a moment later.  I didn't lose consciousness thank goodness.  I told them I was okay and they helped me up.  Since I seemed to rapidly recover they didn't take me to the infirmary but rather walked me over to Sister Stephen's office where she made me lie down on her couch."
     "I stared at the ceiling, letting my breath and pulse calm.  Seeing I was on the mend she went back to her paperwork.  It seemed I lay there for very long time, still and limp.  After what must have been at least half an hour she broke the silence."
    'You love him that much do you?'
     "She knew.  Well of course she knew.  Small wonder.  I hadn't told anyone, especially her, but I had all but ranged neon signs around myself.  Plus Sister Caligula sees all, knows all.  I sat up, cast my eyes down and softly said,  'Yes.'
     'Was there any sort of untoward pressure by Father Durly?'
     'None.'
     'Do you think he feels the same?'
     'Yes.'
     'Please Diane, I need more than monosyllabic responses.'
     'I think he does, Florence, but of course I can not be sure.  I know this love is real, but I also know how wrong it is.'
     'Foolish woman!  You take that back this instant!  Love, real love, is never wrong.  God is love, or have you forgotten that?  Love is not sin.  Sexual congress outside the bonds of marriage is a sin, but I'm certain you have not let that happen.'
     'No, I have not.'
     'Would it be accurate to say that you wished it would happen within those bonds?'
     'Yes. Very much.'
     'Then you must leave the order and find out if this love has any substance.  I think you are being a fool Diane, but I have yet to meet anyone who's judgement I trust more, so I would be a terrible hypocrite to not trust you in this matter.  What makes you think Father Durly feels the same way?'
     'I've been reasonably certain since we met, but what finally convinced me was something someone who is not given to idle flattery said to me.
     'And who was this sage?'
     'Edda Burber."
     She let out a sour laugh.  'I might have known our own brilliant little provocateur had something to do with this.  Pray what was this gem of wisdom she uttered?'
     I related Edda's remark.
     Sister was silent for a few moments, then,  'That child made endless trouble when she was here, but she was the smartest creature to ever walk these halls, with the possible exception of her appendage Amos.  Her capacity for insight was as great as her penchant for mischief, thus I am forced to agree with the truth of her assertion.  Knowing you as I do, if Francis Durly is not in love with you, then he is the biggest idiot to ever walk these halls.  Obviously Edda knew of your love, but that was the easy part.  It would hardly have taken a Mensa level mind to puzzle that out.'
     'Actually I'm a bit jealous.  She perceived profound love, whereas I only saw strong infatuation.  If one is to be trumped then it might as well be by the best.  And for heaven's sake don't tell her I said that.  Her little blond head is swelled enough.  So where will you go then?  No scratch that.  Don't be any dumber than necessary Florence.  Of course you're going to New York to seek out Edda and Amos.'
     'I hadn't really thought that far ahead, but that does seem to make the most sense.  I don't have much family that I can stay with, and I can't think of two people who would be more warm, welcoming, and supportive than those two, young as they are."
     'I agree.  How are you set in financial terms?'
     'That, thank goodness, will not be a problem.  My dad left me a very substantial inheritance when he passed away ten years ago that I have never touched due to my vows.  I'm not precisely sure how much it is now, but even as expensive as New York is it should be enough to support me for at least a couple of years.  I should even be able to afford a decent wardrobe.'
     'That's good.  Very good.  You'll have to come back so I can admire you in your civvies.'
     'Oh, I will likely be a pest around here.  I'll miss you too much to stay away for long.  And if it turns out that Father Durly, Francis, feels the way I hope he does, then you can expect us to seek your counsel.'
     'My door will always be open my dear.  And don't tell anyone this because I'll deny it to the heavens, but don't forget about Thorax.'
     'That madman?'
     'Oh yes he is quite mad, fruity as a nut cake, and his personal habits are frequently nauseating but he has a perverse ability to tell people truths about themselves they do not want to hear.  A very useful talent, even if it is often buried in a farrago of complete nonsense.  If he wasn't such a loony tunes he'd be the envy of every psychologist on the east coast.'
     'I see.  I'll try to keep that in mind.  Florence, I love you so dearly.  I don't want to leave the home and job that I treasure so much, but I feel I must if I am to retain my sanity.'
     'I understand your reluctance, I really do sweetie, and I love you too, but I simply can't have my staff subject to anxiety attacks and diminished capacity to do their jobs, and you are definitely in both those categories.  I do want you to know that if things do not work out, and even if you have strayed into sin, you can come back to the most welcoming arms you ever saw.  I hate to lose you.  You are my rock, my steady Number One.  It will not be the same around here without you.  When do you think you'll be going?'
     'I haven't given that any thought at all.  When would be most convenient?'
     'Convenience is nowhere near any of this business so I suppose it doesn't matter.  Give me a day to put together some properly glowing references for your potential future employment.'
     'I'm absolutely scared to death, Florence.  Scared of the big bad world, scared that Francis will not feel the same way about me.  Scared scared scared.'
     'Chin up dear one.  You have reserves of strength you've scarcely plumbed.  Use them.  Dress conservatively, stay out of rough places, don't flash money, and don't touch anything on the subway.  I fancy you will be quite fine.  I honestly don't know what to tell you about the potential for happiness with Father Durly, er, Francis.  Keep your hopes high, but your expectations in check.  Go forth and find your man.'
     'I will be having Father Durly in for a little chat very soon since I doubt you would be so bold as to do it yourself.  He needs to know right away that you've gone, and he needs a good tongue lashing from me for staying away so long, among other things.  I'll try to go easy.  I expect he'll be in hot pursuit shortly thereafter.  Things may get very complicated for you two.  Perseverance will be sorely needed.'
     'Dr. Burber tells me Edda is rooming with a wonderful gay man, her dance partner, on the Upper West Side.  Parents are loaded I understand.  Your landing should be soft as possible under the circumstances.'
     'You've already thought about all this haven't you?'
     'You've been an open book, honey.  I've been thinking about it for a solid year.  Now, get the heck out of my office.  I'm angry at you, myself, and anybody who gets in my way just now.'
     The very next day I was in her office signing papers.  She was very brusque with me.  I guess she was disappointed in me and I could hardly blame her.  She did apologize for that later.  You know the rest.  I hope she is pleased with the outcome."
     "I know she is.  She's a remarkable woman.  I like her despite her threats of death and dismemberment if I ever mistreat you."
     "Oh that's just her patented bluster.  She couldn't actually hurt so much as a bacterium.  Her carefully crafted 'Sister Caligula' reputation does comes in very handy in her job though."
     "She certainly blustered me, and I was right about her knowing why you had left.  One thing struck me as a touch odd, and that's you calling her by her Christian name.  I doubt I could do that even now with any former superior of mine."
     "I think our order must be looser in that regard than most, but Sister Steven would certainly bristle at being called Florence by anyone but her closest intimates, one of which I was proud to be.  I like to think I never abused the privilege."
     "I just remembered something.  One time Amos was supposedly sleepwalking and kissed Florence full on the mouth.  I would have loved to see the look on her face when that happened.  I tend to credit his excuse.  I think he was fourteen or fifteen at the time and normally he wouldn't have taken such liberties even with Edda.  You may not be aware of it but Amos and Edda have a long history of hijinks at St. Godzilla's as they called it.  Did you know that once someone accidentally shot her there?"
     "Oh my Lord.  I had no idea!"
     "By God's grace she survived and was able to get past the trauma.  I thought Amos was going to simply implode with grief and despair.  For a brief while I was extremely afraid that if Edda did not make it Amos might attempt to take his own life.  She was his whole world even then.  Her injury turned out to be much less serious than we first thought, and she completely recovered, thank the Lord God Almighty."
     "Edda confided in me a good deal in her years at St. Camilla's.  I'm not sure why, but perhaps it was because I would not blab to Florence or her mother something she told me in confidence.  An ability that did not rub off on her as we both know.  What I mentioned her saying about you wasn't the first time she rocked me back on my heels about the subject.  Two months before she turned, seventeen I think it was, and a few weeks after you and I met, she was practically in a panic because she had a dream in which she and Amos were kissing passionately and at length. She was worried sick about it."
     "I told her that she was the smartest person within a hundred miles of St. Camilla's, so how was it possible she didn't know she was in love with Amos and he with her of course?  She answered,  'But Sister Aramus, we're only sixteen years old!  How on earth can we be sure that it's the real deal and not just some overheated puppy love?'
     'Two reasons Edda.  First, despite both your proclivities for driving us half nuts around here, you are both possessed of intelligence and wisdom that is rare to non-existent in people your age.  The second reason is that anyone who sees the two of you together can instantly tell you are true soul-mates and have been for a very long time.  There is an ease and affection between you that is impossible to deny. Resist it with all your might, panic at the thought of it as you likely will, you two will be husband and wife whether it happens in a year or a decade.  It is simply inevitable.   What I can't quite understand is why you seem to fight the idea so much.  Remember Sonnet 116?'
     'Ohhh.  Is there anything of the human condition on which Shakespeare did not comment?'
     'The short answer is no, and so is the long one.  Now, what's the first line?'
     'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.'  Sister, I'm not a dope.  I know we love each other.  I've known that forever, but this dream implied....heck it didn't imply anything.  It conked me over the head with the realization that we are in love with each other.  It may sound like a trivial semantic difference, but it seems like all the difference in the world to me.'
     'Edda I agree.  You are right to say that the difference is not trivial.  Do you know the one word that describes that difference?"
     'I'm pretty sure I do, but tell me anyway.'
     'That word is desire.  It is certainly not unusual for people your age to fall in love or desire each other.  It's almost inevitable in point of fact, and hardly alarming.  We are not however talking about typical young people, but rather you and Amos, who are extremely atypical for sixteen year-olds in almost every way.'
     'You two are easily the most remarkable pair of people, young or otherwise, I have ever known, and don't you dare deny that you are both very special creatures young lady, because all you need to do is simply look around you and you will realize the truth of it.  Some might say that you are both very advanced for your ages, but in my opinion that would be a severe understatement.'
     'I am quite certain you both have loved each other since childhood, and I think that you have been in love with each other, with all the adult implications, for quite a while and you are only just now consciously realizing it.  By historical standards you two are actually laggards.  My grandmother gave birth to my mother when she was all of fourteen.  In centuries past couples marrying and starting families in their mid-teens was quite unremarkable.  Now don't misunderstand me.  I don't expect you and Amos to start acting like sober-sided forty year-olds, but nevertheless it is becoming hard for me to think of you as anything but adults, with all the feelings that adults can have for each other.'
     "Edda bit her lip, sighed, nodded."  'I guess you're right.  I knew there was a reason mistletoe seemed more important to me than usual last Christmas.  We've kissed any number of times before, and there were some doozies I can tell you, but it always seemed like just affectionate playfulness.   Well mostly, and our world didn't implode, but in my dream we were passionate in an adult way for the first time, and by adult I mean wanting to start shucking my clothes posthaste.  That's what scared me.  It scared me because if we come right out and say we're in love with each other, we'll have to act on it.'
     'And by act I presume you do not mean...?'
     'Sin?  Oh yes, sin in extremis, doubled and tripled, but that's not what I really meant.  Okay okay, we're in love with each other, but if we admit it we will want to do something about it, as in get married and start churning out babies.  In other words, take the express train to adulthood.  The problem with that is, however advanced you think we might be, I think we are still a long way from being adults.  I'm aiming for a career in dance and Amos plans to be a concert musician.  If we got married after we graduate from here I'm sure it would drastically complicate both those objectives.'
     'I very much want to have children, and have them with Amos, but a baby at home is certainly not going to advance any career in dance that I might pursue, and would not be at all helpful to Amos in his efforts.  I know it sounds a bit deranged, but if I tell him I'm in love with him, and then lose him, and his friendship, because of regret and bitterness a few years later, I couldn't live with myself.'
     'Please don't repeat this, Sister, but I love Amos with all my heart, and despite the way he pursues Mary I know he feels the same way about me.  But, I'm just not ready to declare it, and I don't really know when I'll be ready.  We have college and careers ahead of us, and getting married so young would, to me, make both a far more difficult proposition.'
     'Edda, you will notice I mentioned a decade in my estimate.  Does that seem so outlandish and confining?'
     'Well, no it doesn't, but still an awful lot can happen in that length of time.  Don't you think we will be changed people in ten years?'
     'Of that I have no doubt, but I also have no doubt that the most difficult task Edda Jane Burber will face in that time will be trying to stop loving Amos Lucian van Hoesen.  With a supreme heart shattering effort you might accomplish that task, but I am certain that he could no more stop loving you than he could swim the Pacific Ocean.  Oh I know you both will do the right thing in the end, but of course potholes along the way are to be expected, perhaps many of them.  At any rate, don't worry about such dreams, and don't worry about actually kissing Amos in however passionate a manner you like, or even declaring your love, as long as it doesn't go any further for a couple of years.'
     'Of that you may be sure, Sister.  No hanky and no panky.  You know it's funny.  All those things he's always saying to Mary, all that exaggerated adulation because he can't bring himself to say them to me.  It must be why I rarely feel jealous when I hear him carry on about her, although he must be at least a little in love with her.  Any man would be supremely lucky to have her.'
     'Edda, it may vain of you to think Amos' feelings for Mary are just transference, but nevertheless I believe it to be the plain truth.  It could well be why Mary so comprehensively rejects him.  She must be aware of the displacement even if she can't verbalize it.  However, I have noticed her softening her attitude of late though, so perhaps a bit of jealously would be in order.  She might actually be developing feelings for him.  So, what are you going to do now?'
     'Not a doggone thing is what I'm going to do.  I love Amos.  Alright alright, I'm in love with him, but I will not do anything that could endanger the special friendship we have.  Period.  After we graduate then maybe, but certainly not before then, and maybe even a good while afterward.  It's going to be hard though, really hard.  I desperately want to feel free to start real kissing and cuddling with him, but I'm absolutely sure that the first time I take him in my arms and kiss him like a lover instead of a friend then all gosh darn heck will break loose.'
     "Edda, you have my sympathies, but I think you'll handle things just fine.  Make no mistake, it will take prodigies of self control on your part.  Keeping a relationship platonic in the face of the depth of your feelings is not going to be easy.  You know of course that my door, and my heart, is ever open to you.  Now go on with you.  I have a stack of papers to grade.'
     'I will Sister but...well, there is something of a very personal nature I need to say to you, so can we just be friends for a moment and not student or teacher or authority figure?'
     'Edda, if it were anyone else I would say no, but I think we are friends and I hope we will always remain so.  What did you want to say?
     'Just this.'  She took my hand and squeezed it.  'Please my sweet wonderful Diane.  Please please follow your heart.'
     "I was struck dumb, my breath left me, my eyes were instantly wet.  She rose, caressed my cheek, and left.  Needless to say those papers did not get graded for a long while.  I was in shock.  She used my real name.  It was an act of intimacy greater than if she had kissed me on the mouth.  I had never told her my secular name, much less that I had always gone by my middle name and not my first.  The little devil probably snooped in the personnel files.  She was only sixteen, but she was no child."
     "And let me tell you that just as they did nearly two years later her words crashed through my brain like a lightning bolt.  Empathy that powerful is a little scary.  I did think it was a bit odd when I first saw her in New York and she wondered why I was dressed as a civilian, but I think she was so shocked to see me, and so unprepared for seeing me dressed as anything but a nun, that she was seriously flustered.  Seth, bless his heart, twigged almost instantly."
     "Anyway, you can see why I think their mating is as fore-ordained as ours.  Their love is easily as powerful as ours, however much she still seems to resist fully declaring it.  I think Amos would rather have a leg removed than be permanently separated from Edda.  For all practical purposes they have been in love since they were eight, and effectively married since they were fourteen, which sounds perverse unless you know them.  They certainly are the smartest peas in a pod I've ever encountered.  Their combined IQs would easily break 300 I believe.  You know, I was a little envious of the depth of the connection they had."
     "I...I....My Francis, may the Lord forgive me but I just told a lie."
     "Oh honey.  What lie?"
     "I lied when I said I was a little envious.  The truth is that I became all but consumed with jealousy of the bond those two have.  Seeing them together, knowing what they had, was an ice pick in my heart.  I was lucky I didn't burst into tears just passing them in the hallway.  They chose to hide the depths of their feelings, but unlike me they did not have to hide anything.  I am ashamed to say I was glad they graduated early so I would no longer have to be continually reminded that I did not have what they did.  It was one more sin I likely should have confessed, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."
     "Katie Diane, my one and only eternal love, I am officially calling a halt to all recriminations concerning all the obstacles we chose to strew in the path of our happiness.  We have spent three weeks in one continuous magical apology for all the mistakes we think we have made.  Let us be done with all of it.  Love is not in any real sense quantifiable, but if it were I would match ours against what those two young people have, and then dare to say that we have gone beyond."
     "From all you have said it seems clear that Edda and Amos were practically born in love.  Their bond is as natural as breathing for them, but to my fevered mind our bond is all the more sweet because in a very real sense we have earned our love.  We have plowed through all the outward and self-imposed obstacles in our path and won through.  For me it is enough, enough for a lifetime.  And you?"
     "Far far more than enough, my Francis.  You are without doubt the wisest big ol' doofus I have ever known."
     "Thank you my love, I think.  You know it may sound strange to hear it, but you strongly evoke the sin of pride in me.  A year ago this church mouse would have recoiled from such a thing, but now....now I yearn to brag about us, you particularly.  Not only am I in love with you to an immeasurable degree, I am fiercely proud of this magical creature I call Katie Diane.  You are so brilliant, so astoundingly sweet and so powerfully sexy that I want to shout your praises from the rooftops.  If pride in you be sin then give me my sin again."
     "There it is.  Old Will at last.  Now you've come fully over to the dark side.  Didn't think it was possible to love you any more than I already did, but you just proved me wrong."
     They rode in silence for while.  Francis stole an occasional glance at his wife to watch the city lights flicker on her face.  He thought he saw tears.
     "Honey what's wrong?"
     "I....I just don't want it to end, my Francis.  Can one be overwhelmed by joy?  Making love with you, exploring our hearts and minds, has been like discovering chocolate, ice cream, sunsets, Rachmaninoff and Shakespeare all on the same day.  Purest sensory overload."
     "Do you still love those things?"
     "Oh my word yes."
     "Then there is no reason at all to be sad.  Tons of chocolate, oceans of ice cream, thousands of sunsets, endless hours of Rachmaninoff and Shakespeare, plus the infinite joys of our bodies and minds lie in our future.   I...I...oh heck now you're gonna make me plotz."
     "Plotz away sweet man.  Cry a river.  If there is anyone on this planet to whom you do not have to prove the truth and power of your masculinity, it is lil' ol' me.  Florence was right.  She knew my heart couldn't lie to me about you.  Edda, bless her heart, was right as well, right about both of us.  How could we not love each other?  'Tis quite an impossibility.  One thing though.  Are you disappointed I'm no longer the demure Sister Aramus for whom you fell?"
     "Not at all.  Thou art like unto Shiva.  Infinite in your joyous aspects."
     "Now I know you're Irish.  That's one big load of blarney, but I could use a couple dozen more arms with which to hug you."
     "Katie Diane?"
     "Yes my Francis?"
     "We are home."
     He turned the key to off.
     They sat quietly for a little while.  Finally he squeezed her hand.  "Well my beautiful beautiful Katie Diane, we have a life to live and I am eager to begin."
     "Francis?"
     "Yes?"
     "It's a bit chilly out don't you think?"
     "It is."
     "Well then, you better get me across that threshold fast because I am about to tear off your clothes and you might catch cold if I do it on the stoop."
     "Well we certainly can't have that."
     She waited until the door closed to start ripping, but not one second longer.

Coda:   Two days later.  8 P.M.  Seth's apartment.

     Francis knocked on number 42.  Presently Seth opened the door.  He was alone tonight as Francis knew he would be.
     "Francis!  Come in come in!"  Big Seth hug.  "Can I get you anything, coffee, tea, you name it."
     "Oh, no thank you.  I don't plan to be here long."
     "Alright then.  So tell me tell me.  How was your trip?"
     Francis put his hand on Seth's arm and squeezed it.  "Oh my Lord, Seth.  It was the most utterly incredible honeymoon that anyone has ever had."
     Seth grinned.  "Well, that's great.  I glad I could help.  But you look a little down somehow.  Anything wrong?
     "Actually I'm still high as a kite, but I am, Diane and I both are, embarrassed to tell you something.  Something that could hurt your feelings."
     "Francis, what on Earth are you talking about?"
     "Well, first we would both like to thank you for the remarkable job you, and Mark, did on our wedding, and on planning and paying for our honeymoon.  But here's the thing Seth, and it's why Diane was too embarrassed to come with me.  You didn't really need to pay for our honeymoon.  Diane and I are reasonably well fixed financially and could pay our own way, but you were so enthusiastic about planning and paying for it she just didn't have the heart to turn you down.  I hope you aren't too disappointed."  He pulled a check out of his jacket pocket and put it on the coffee table.  "We didn't spend a dime of it."
     Seth shook his head.  "I do tend to get carried away don't I?  Francis, I can be such a dope sometimes.  I just stupidly assumed that two people fresh off the religious boat were anything but on easy street.  It's okay.  I need to call Diane and tell her that.  How could I be cross with the sweetest woman I've ever known?"
     "Well it gets worse, sort of.  I basically tossed all of the itinerary you so carefully planned.  We got to New Hampshire that first evening, but after that we only stayed in two other out of the way places and drove less than fifty miles.  We spent the entire three weeks kissing, cuddling, talking, and making love.  Especially that last one.  We scarcely even knew where we were most of the time, and only barely saw the outdoors."
     Seth bounced up and down on the couch.  "Francis, you absolute stud!  I could not be happier for you.  So, uh, how should I phrase this?  Diane was pleased as well with how it went?"
     "Brother you don't know the half of it.  And I hope you never do.  It would curl your hair."
     "Oh this is just too delicious.  Good lord man.  I don't even slightly mind you foregoing everything to revel in your new bride.  It's just romantic as hell, 'scuse my language."
     "Yeah, romantic as hell, and then some.  So you're not peeved?"
     "Oh my word no.  Giddy with delight is more like it.  May I assume this is just between us?  Unlike some people around here I can keep a secret."
     "Well, we've talked about it and since we have nothing to hide from our friends, just use your best judgement.  I'm sure Edda will eventually drag it out of Diane and then the front page of the Times may not be far behind, but we'll deal with it.  At one point Diane said, and I quote, 'How am I going to tell Edda we spent the whole time blomping our brains out?'"
     Seth slapped his leg and barked out a laugh.  "Priceless.  Is 'blomp' one of Diane's word substitution thingies?"
     "Yes.  No translation needed I trust."
     "Certainly not.  I think I'll keep that one to myself though.  It's just too too choice.  I can not tell you how happy I am for you guys.  The road you've had to travel to get to this happiness has been rough, some of which was my fault I admit, but I'm so glad that's it's finally worked out so well for you."
     Francis, "That reminds me.  There is something else for which I really should thank you.  You...well...you saved my bacon with that niece gambit when I showed up here the first time.  It was quick thinking on your part, and it was a reasonable response to complete idiocy on my part.  I feel so ashamed that I did not recognize Diane instantly." 
     "The only excuse I can muster is that it had been well over a year since I had seen her, and out of her habit, with a lovely figure, a bit of makeup and her hair around her face she honestly did look completely different.  I was just a big doofus, and you've have you had to deal with more than a few the last couple of years.  I'm so glad you're the anti-doofus.  Did Edda recognize her when she showed up here?"
     "Well, yeah she did, but after all she's known Diane most of her life, and her face and voice are in Edda's permanent memory banks.  Again, I am so pleased that everything's worked out so well." 
     "Thank you, and thank you again for all your care and work."
     "Think nothing of it.  I just hope I'm not eighty before Edda and Amos tie the knot.  They're both so neurotic, Edda especially,  Their slog to the altar may take years."
     "Indeed it might.  Diane talked a lot about those two in their earlier years.  She said that she considered them effectively married when they were fourteen years-old, and that their combined IQs are probably well north of 300."
     "I can believe both those things, easily."
     "There is something else I think you should know that I'll bet Edda has never mentioned.  I might be speaking out of turn, Edda would probably tackle me and stuff a pillow in my mouth, but it's common enough knowledge in New Hampshire.  Did you know that someone once accidentally shot her at St. Camilla's?
     Seth's eyes widened in horror.  Tears sprang, he plunged his face into his hands and sobbed.  "Oh God oh God.  Oh my poor baby!"
     Francis rubbed Seth's arm and let him cry it out.  He did, eventually.  He grabbed tissues and wiped his eyes and nose.
     "I'm sorry I upset you, but I thought you should know.  She wasn't seriously injured and she recovered completely, but it's hard not to see the incident as influencing, to some degree at least, her fear of commitment.  I don't have any real evidence for that, but it might be something to think about."
     Seth wagged his head wearily.  "Wow.  You could well be right.  Edda and Amos may be geniuses, but they are bigger doofuses than you'll ever be.  Thanks for telling me.  I'm sure I would have found out sooner or later.  Oh God, that poor thing!"
     "Diane told me that Amos was initially so far sunk into despair that she was concerned that he might attempt to take his own life if Edda had not made it."
     "That doesn't really surprise me.  With the possible exception of yourself I've never known, or even heard of, a man loving someone that deeply and comprehensively.  I swear it's like a bad Victorian novel.  I should probably keep that awful tidbit of info to myself, but lord she's worse than an FBI profiler.  It won't be easy.  I'm only five years older than she is, but sometimes it feels like fifty."
     "At the risk of upsetting you further, I note that in many ways you are a surrogate father to her.  The steady hand, the stern but kind voice she has too infrequently gotten from her own father."
     Seth smiled.  "As much as I'd like to deny it, I don't suppose I can.  Oh my lord, don't ever let her know you think that.  She'll go off like Mt. St. Helens."
     "Got it.  Lips zipped.  And by the way.  I'll also keep my lips zipped about the fact that you are in love with her, for which I don't blame you even a little bit."  A look of horror appeared on Seth's face.  He swallowed with difficulty, but said not a word.

      Francis, "Well, before I put you in the hospital I better go.  Thank you again so much for everything."

     Seth wiped the appalled look off his face then said brightly, "You are most welcome.  I couldn't be happier that your trip worked out so well."
     Francis popped up and headed for the door.  Seth headed him off.
     "Where do you think you're going mister?"
     He wrapped Francis up in a tight embrace, a tight looong embrace.  Then he kissed him on the forehead and released him.
     "Go home to your beautiful wife my friend.  Don't ever ever let go of that wonderful creature."
     "I never will.  Of that you may be certain."  He patted Seth's arm.  "We'll talk to you later.  Take care." Then he was gone.
     Seth went to the couch and sat.  He cried many more tears for "his" little girl, but by the time she came home, late as usual, he was the picture of stern reproof.  No sign of his overflowing heart showed on his face.


End.