I traveled to Plattsburgh during the support cycle in April. It was just a long weekend, and didn’t chew up too much leave time, but it kept Marilyn calm, or at least calmer.
I also made a number of phone calls to Tusker, Harlan and Joe, sorting out the details with them. We decided to skip out on any stag party, since the only chance we would have to be together was the night before in any case, and that was when the rehearsal dinner would be.
Upstate New York in the winter is a miserable place. One thing I knew for sure. Even if I didn’t make a career of the Army, no way was I moving back to New York! I shoveled snow for 50 years before, and I was not about to repeat the process. No matter what Marilyn screamed at me, I was going to live some place a lot warmer!
Eventually we got to our summer support cycle, and I was going on leave. I flew out of Fayetteville on Wednesday morning, June 28, with a flight into Syracuse that connected through Washington. The Syracuse airport was a hell of a lot closer to Utica than the Albany airport, and was larger as well, with more flights. Now, in addition to my two trusty B4 bags, I had purchased a new hanging bag, and had in it a suit, my mess dress uniform, and a blazer. It had enough room that Marilyn could put in any formal evening gowns or dresses she was packing. Then again, Marilyn might have so much crap I’d have to go out and buy her a bag of her own, and she’d still use most of mine!
I got into the airport mid-afternoon, just a bit after two, and found a wonderful sight — Marilyn standing there at the baggage claim area! I went right up to her and wrapped her in my arms. “You have no idea how good you look to me!” I told her.
“Just hold me!” she replied, somewhat miserably.
I gave her a big hug and then asked, “What’s wrong now?”
“Can’t we just elope? Why can’t we just elope?”
“Fine by me. We’re at the airport. Want to fly out to Vegas?”
“Seriously?” she asked.
“Sure, why not? Of course your parents will never talk to you again, and it will cost us all of our friends, but it’s up to you,” I commented.
“You’re no help!”
“You worry way too much. It’s too late to change anything anyway. Come on, let’s get my stuff and go. Where did you park?”
Marilyn said she was in the parking garage, so I sent her back to get her car and bring it around to the baggage claim area. I would collect my stuff and meet her outside. Just then the luggage carousel started moving, so off she went and I waited for my luggage.
Thankfully, none of my luggage went on its own separate vacation. I collected my stuff and hauled it out the door to the sidewalk just in time to see Marilyn waved away by a security guard and be made to circle around a second time. When she came back I just tossed my gear into the backseat of the car. She stayed behind the wheel and I climbed into the passenger seat.
“You see? Nothing is working out! I can’t even park and wait for you!” she complained.
“Rule One — Don’t sweat the small stuff. Rule Two — It’s all small stuff,” I replied. “What happened to the Challenger?” Marilyn had picked me up in a very nondescript Chevy Malibu.
She shrugged. “It’s sort of in the shop. I was in sort of an accident.”
I looked over at her curiously. Marilyn is not the world’s greatest driver. One time she and Tammy managed to drive the Challenger up a dirt road and get it stuck on a rock with all four tires off the ground. Another time, in high school, she managed to roll a car onto its roof. “What’s a sort of accident?”
She had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “Well, a train hit it.”
I stared at her in utter astonishment. “You hit a train!?”
“No, the train hit me,” she explained.
“What, it jumped off the track and drove into you?”
“Well, no. I was at a crossing and I was a little too far forward and when the train came through it just nudged me over. That’s all!”
I stared some more. “You drove onto the railroad tracks while a train was coming through and then stayed in the car?”
She gave me a peevish look. “That’s exactly what my father said! I don’t need to hear it from you, too!”
“You’re lucky to be alive! Just how bad is the Challenger?” She turned to face the road again and mumbled something. “What was that? I missed it.”
“I said it’s totaled.”
“Well, as long as it’s nothing major.” I got a raspberry for that. I rubbed my hands over my face. “I think I understand your father a little better now. He’s not just giving you away, he’s reducing his liability!” That earned me a second raspberry.
Leaving aside Marilyn’s driving history, I enjoyed the drive back. Marilyn had on a dark blue tank top that showed some interesting cleavage, and a short denim skirt. I enjoyed watching her.
I had gotten a room at the Sheraton in downtown Utica. It was on Genesee Street, which was the main north-south business street through the city, just south of 5S. It was maybe a couple miles south of St. Peter’s, where the wedding was to be held, and maybe five miles east of the Lefleur’s and Trinkaus Manor on 5S and 69. I had gotten a block of rooms reserved for family members and any of the guests who wanted to stay over. Harlan and Anna Lee, Tusker and Tessa, and Joe would be arriving tomorrow, and my entire family, including aunts and uncles and cousins would be coming in Friday. The rehearsal was at 1700 on Friday, the wedding was at 1100 Saturday, and the reception was at 1400.
Marilyn thought my use of military time was hilarious.
We drove the Thruway back to Utica and got off at Exit 31, and drove down Genesee Street to the Sheraton. When we got there, Marilyn pulled up to the door and she got out with me. I pulled my bags from the back seat and she opened the trunk up. She handed me a suitcase. “I told my parents I was staying with Tammy. She’ll cover for me.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“You sound like you don’t want me to stay?”
I wrapped her in another hug. “Go park the car and come in, and I’ll show you just how much I want you to stay!” I lowered my face and kissed her. At the break, she closed her trunk and got back into the car, while I scrounged up a bellman for the luggage and went inside to check in.
Marilyn returned while I was still registering at the front desk. She was quiet and held my hand and leaned against me while I finished signing in, and then held my hand as we rode the elevator to the third floor. The bellman delivered our luggage and I slipped him a few bucks, and then Marilyn just came up to me and wrapped her arms around me.
“It’s all right,” I told her softly.
“I just wish this was all over!”
I rubbed her back. “Thirty years from now, our children will be getting married, and we’ll be able to laugh at them and tell them just how awful it was for us and how we survived it all.”
“Thirty years! I don’t think I’m going to last thirty minutes!”
“In sixty years you’ll be able to laugh at your grandchildren,” I answered.
Marilyn gave a small and manic laugh at that. I let go of her and pulled her by the hand over to the bed. Since I hadn’t planned on Marilyn staying with me, I hadn’t gotten a suite. The room still had a king sized bed, though. I sat down on the bed and pulled her down beside me. She simply leaned against me with her head on my shoulder.
“I think you need to relax,” I told her. I moved backwards on the bed until I was comfortably in the center of it, and pulled Marilyn along with me. I lay down and she lay down on top of me. I reached up and cupped her face in my hands and kissed her softly. She slipped her tongue between my lips and made a gentle moaning sound as I rubbed my hands across her back. She had a thin bra under the tank top, and as she squirmed around on top of me, I responded with an erection.