Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book IV by Richie Patton

Author:Richie Patton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Richard A. Patton

Chapter 27

“My husband,” Rhonda whispered adoringly, her slim, well-manicured fingers adjusting Paddy's black bow tie. Her ebon eyes shimmered.

“My wife,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion and awe. He leaned into her. The taffeta of her mother's simple, ankle-length wedding gown rustled like a passing sigh in the quiet of their delayed craving for each other.

“I know, Oshanski. I know but for now we have an obligation to family and friends. It won't be long for us, though. And, then …” A radiant smile illumined her stunning features. The facial scars suffered three years earlier from the car accident which killed her best girlfriend were hardly noticeable with her deep tan. “But now” – she nudged him gently back – “I need some room. I know you hate to

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have your neck in what you call a 'tight noose,' but I want our kids one day to have a least one photo of their father completely shaped up, tie and all.” She regarded him admiringly. “Who knows when you might look this spiffy again all ginned up in your white tux jacket, black trousers and black patent leather shoes. You don't want to look, as Nurse K.K. would say, tatty (in poor condition) because your tie is sloppy.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed her a twisted smile. He could care less about looking good with a properly tied tie. Later, he would teach their boys his way – open-neck, no matter what the situation.

Custom be damned. Tie schmie …, he spat to himself. C'mon, boyo, you're letting tiredness put you in a bad mood. “Okay I'll go along with it for a tad longer for you, my love, but it'll be off sooner than you can say, Paddy pulled a plump pickled pepper from a pretty packed pouch parked parallel to piles of paraphernalia.”

Outside the small private room in the Polish National Alliance Hall of Hamtramck, Michigan muted sounds of footfalls, merry voices and rushed activities were evidence of preparations in progress.

“Padraigh Aloysius, you seem a bit, uhm, uptight, baby.”

He looked off from her searching gaze. At once he appreciated her concern while simultaneously wishing she hadn't mentioned it at all. He could handle what he was feeling himself but his way. “Just feeling out of synch, I do. You know me, babe. Nothing more than the usual when I'm out of my normal groove for a time and tired.” He fought off a strong desire to chuck all the rigamarole, the all-that-had-to-be-done. All he wanted was to have Curly Slim, the girl of his dreams, all to himself, alone and apart from the world. Instead, resigning himself to the inevitable, he forced a smile and directed his brilliant blue eyes, now blood shot, back to her compassionate expression.

“How long have things been bothering you?”

“Aw, I don't want to bother you with all this jazz now. I'll be okay after everything is …”

“Stop! Now that were married you're going to quit sharing with me?”

He expelled a long noisy breath.

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