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Rob and Celia are finally beginning their honeymoon, having survived their wedding. When Celia’s father interrupted the ceremony, and later when both of their fathers were drunkenly singing pub songs during the toasts, Rob had stepped in. First, he contained Celia’s father by introducing himself to him, and later he interrupted the singing dads to make a toast of his own, to Celia.
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Rob
and Celia had left their wedding almost four hours prior. In fact Rob’s toast to Celia had been a
shade on the risqué side, suggesting his strong desire to begin the honeymoon
and why. Everyone had laughed
appropriately and only his grandmother seemed to mind the implication.
Rob’s
parents had bought them a night in a local bed & breakfast to start their
honeymoon. Tomorrow they would
leave for the rest of the trip, which Rob had planned but which was still a
secret to Celia.
They
were having dinner in the inn’s small dining room. The waiter had just poured their red wine, but Celia felt
like she had already put away half the bottle. Her body was still warm and the memories of Rob unzipping
her dress, then laying her on her back, then—
“I
hope our dinner is short,” Celia said, smiling over her wine glass at Rob. The memories were fresh, and they were good.
“I
hope our dinner is worth what we are about to pay for it,” Rob said.
This
stopped Celia short. She was ready
to flirt and talk about what they had just done and about what they were going
to do when they got back to the room.
She wanted to tell Rob about the black negligee Catherine had given
her. She watched his face closely
as he perused the menu in the hope that he might be joking. Rob’s fears about money were still a
sore spot for Celia after their arguments over the summer. She could feel her body cooling
off as her heart began to sink.
I
need to tell Rob that what he just said is frightening me, she thought.
“I
don’t think I even want to know what the market rate for the Great Lakes bass
is,” he continued. “Maybe
I’ll stick with pasta tonight.”
Celia knew that was because the pasta was the cheapest section of the
menu.
Celia
set her wine glass down as her stomach began to turn. I can’t spend the rest of my life with this, she
thought. I have to say something
now.
How,
within a few short hours, could Rob switch from being a knight on a white horse
to being such a jackass?
“OK,
I’ll settle on something in between.
The coq-au-vin is dark enough to go with the wine, but it won’t break my
wallet, either.” He set the menu
aside and looked at Celia. “What
are you going to have?”
How
does Celia respond?
