Chapter 18
IT'S BEEN FUN, BABY....
"You mean I'm not the only dope around here?" There was a trace of a smile on Elaine's face as she sat on the corner of Carl's desk. "You feel sorry for him too, don't you?"
"Sure I do. I don't mean I'm sorry he got the knife, he's done his share of that. What I'm sorry for is that he's such a pitiful little man with no talent and no real resources."
"What do you think he'll do?"
"There's one I don't want to guess about."
"Are you saying you think he may kill himself?"
"Maybe I am. He doesn't have the strength, but with a couple of pushes in the wrong direction, I think he could. I doubt that he'll get any comfort from his wife. He discarded that right a long time ago."
"In the meantime, the king is dead, long live the king. No talent Bob Smelton gives way to even less talent Mike Kalman. It could only happen in the agency world."
Bob wanted to laugh, but neither had that many laughs on tap at the moment. They had heard of Bob's demise only minutes before and even though they thought they were prepared for it, the shock was still there.
"Do you have anything important on this afternoon?" he asked. "Anything you can't cancel?"
"No. Why?"
"Well I have and it has nothing to do with this place. Get your purse, I've just declared a half holiday in honor of the new king."
Without asking questions, Elaine slipped off his desk, informed her secretary that she was long gone, picked up her purse and was back in two minutes.
Outside, the hot sun tried to raise blisters on the sidewalk, but they didn't care. They could almost smell fresh air through the mist of smoke, carbon dioxide and the sweaty armpits of the big city.
"Are you going to buy me a drink?" she asked with her best coquette smile.
"Damn right I am, lady. Just as soon as we get home."
She called him a cheapskate but she didn't really mean it and he knew it. It was all a part of their game to keep the world from closing in.
"As long as you keep laughing at it," they had agreed one night as they sat in bed playing the word game after a stimulating session of the love game, "the world can't really get at you. When you stop laughing, you're dead."
Although born of a fun game, the words stuck as their personal credo. They promised themselves they'd have it translated into latin so that it could hang over a mantle somewhere.
On the way home, Bob pulled the car to a stop not too far from a liquor store. When he returned with a big paper bag that clinked nicely, Elaine poked around and discovered, among other standard items, a bottle of champagne.
"Planning on a christening or something?" she asked.
"Something like that."
When she saw that he intended keeping his secret, she stopped trying to pry it out of him. In time, she knew, she would find out and would probably enjoy it.
"Are you in the mood to eat?" Elaine asked as they closed the door of his apartment behind them.
"Not food," he answered looking menacingly at the front of her dress.
"Oh goody." She did her impression of a bump and grind routine to let him know dinner would be served any time he wanted it.
He poured a pair of drinks and they carried them out to the balcony. The air was a little better at that level than it had been on the sidewalk. All the pollutants were still there, but at that altitude, they were diluted a bit by air.
"Remember that six month schedule I gave for getting out of the agency?" he asked as he leaned on the rail with his glass in his right hand.
"Uh huh."
"Well the six months ran out this morning. Does that upset you?"
"Upset me? You goofy darling, now I know how much I love you. I'm glad we have champagne to celebrate the big event."'
"That's not what the champagne is for?"
"What is it for, mystery man?"
"The champagne, my darling, is to celebrate the fact that I am now telling you I love you and we are going to get married as soon as the law allows."
He put his glass precariously on the rail and turned to catch her as she threw herself into his arms. As if she had seen it coming, Elaine had already disposed of her glass.
There was a long kiss, after which he repeated the words of love and apologized for having made her wait so long to hear them.
Elaine was in no mood to listen to apologies and told him so between the next few kisses.
"Of course I want to marry you, darling," she told him at last as she put his glass back into his hand and picked up her own again, "but not just now."
"Why not?"
"You're a strong free bird, my darling," she told him in a voice that rang with love. "Right now, you're taking a great big step in throwing your job away and starting to write. You don't need the added shock of marriage."
"Shock hell. I love you woman. I adore you and I want to marry you. What's so shocking about that?"
"Darling, I'll live with you in a one room flat in the Bronx or a shack back in the hills of Georgia if it fits the plan. But I won't marry you right now. I give you my love and my body to do with as you will, but I won't marry you just now."
"The hell you won't. You're going to marry me if I have to wring your beautiful neck to make you say yes."
"I'm just as tough and as stubborn as you, Carl. I say I want very much to marry you and I will, but later."
Taking time out for a very big gulp of his drink, Carl put the glass down on the floor of the balcony and turned to her. Sensing that something was about to happen, Elaine wisely set her glass down on the table.
A moment later, she had been picked up and was being carried into the apartment. The trip ended when he dropped her onto the bed so that she bounced a little.
Although he worked quickly, he was reasonably gentle as he pulled her dress off. He was a little less gentle with her half slip.
When he reached for the bra, he didn't bother to unfasten it. There was a sound of tearing and it fell away to expose her lovely breasts, heaving with passion at being taken so roughly.
Not waiting for her to lift her body, he raised it with one hand as he jerked her panties down and off. Bending, he pressed his mouth between her thighs and Elaine felt the moisture that would prepare the love path for him.
Dropping her again, he quickly pushed his pants and shorts down and threw himself onto the bed. His hands caught the weight of him and a moment later, he was lying on her. He came into her quickly and began making love to her with a savage passion that drove her wild with ecstasy.
Her nails dug into him through his shirt as she exploded through a magnificent climax and a moment later, he was spurting his maleness into her receptive body as he shuddered against her.
"Now will you marry me right away?" he panted.
"Oh yes, my darling. Oh yes. This very minute. Call someone to come in and perform the ceremony."
"No more argument?"
"No more argument, my darling. If I ever argue with you again, punish me the same way, please. I love it and I love you."
"Then it's time for the champagne."
He started to move away from her, but Elaine's arms wrapped around him tightly and stopped him.
"Oh darling," she whispered into his ear, "that was the best one ever. Do you think it was because we did it formal?"
"What's with formal?" he wanted to know.
"Well, my husband, I've never seen a man make love while wearing a shirt and tie."
Carl looked at himself as if realizing for the first time that he was still wearing them. They both laughed, their bodies still joined. It was a very good laugh."
"Be careful you don't trip over your pants and break anything important," she laughed as he began to get up.
He moved away from her carefully and stopped at the edge of the bed to take off his shoes, pants and shorts. Only then did he hurry away to get the champagne he had put into the freezer earlier.
When he returned with it and the two long stemmed glasses, he announced that it wasn't chilled quite enough, but neither really cared.
"Nothing could stay chilled in this room with us around," she consoled him.
The cork popped and bounced off a couple of walls. He poured champagne into the two glasses, slopped some onto the bed and didn't give a damn.
They drank a toast then to their love and their marriage and their future. Between sips and kisses, they exchanged their vows of eternal love. No matter how good their wedding was, both knew, it couldn't begin to approach the beauty and loving solemnity of the moment they shared then.
Elaine told him then about the Unitarian church. Neither were churchgoers, but she had been to meetings in the church when social issues were being discussed and had learned a lot.
The most important thing was that people being married could, if they wished, write their own ceremony to include poetry or anything they liked.
If they didn't want to write their own, she went on to explain, the standard wedding ceremony talked all about love and beauty and made no mention of duty, or death or heaven or hell.
Carl had never thought of getting married in a church, but he had to admit it sounded exciting.
"After all," he exclaimed, "we're both writers and if we can't come up with the best damn ceremony in history, we should be ashamed of ourselves."
"We will, my darling," she assured him with anothr hug that spilled more champagne onto the sheets, "we really will."