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I was thinking of Newburyport, said Luke. Make a day of it. Ride down with the top
down on the convertible, go out to lunch, have a little fun. Forget about all the stress and
worrying about hurricanes for a few hours.
I shrugged. Well, okay, I guess... it s not that much further away. Still, it seems like a lot of
effort just to pick up a piece of paper.
A very important piece of paper, Luke said with a smile.
I smiled back. Yes... very important.
~~~
We woke up on the twenty-eighth to pouring rain and cold temps. So much for a scenic
drive, I thought. To make matters worse, I noticed a leak around the chimney in the living room,
and the stain on the ceiling seemed to be enlarging quickly. We can postpone, I suggested,
trying to sound helpful. Go down tomorrow or the next day...
Luke shook his head. This is your day off. Better to get it done and over with, rather than
waiting. Who knows what else might come up. I smiled a little to myself. The old Type A
personality shows itself once again.
We made it a quick trip and found out that the mini-Cooper, while not ideal on the interstate
in the rain, still handled passably well, even with all the trucks throwing up giant sprays of road
wash on the car.
We found the Newburyport City Hall without too much trouble (a lovely restored
brownstone building, by the way, if you happen to be in the neighborhood). Even though we
grabbed a parking place just a few hundred yards from the entrance, we were still completely
soaked by the time we got inside and then, to our dismay, saw a line with at least fifteen people
ahead of us in front of the city clerk s counter.
There are this many people getting married? whispered Luke and I shook my head.
It s the end of the month... probably people rushing to re-register their cars, pay taxes, stuff
like that.
Luke sighed and I shrugged. Nothing to do but be patient. He pulled out his iPhone and
played Hangman while I listened to the rain pound against the windows.
Finally, it was our turn. The clerk, Rich, seemed a little harried but was still pleasant,
instructing us how to fill out the form, checking our IDs, and taking our money. He paper clipped
the forms together. This will be ready on Thursday, he said. You can pick it up anytime.
We re open nine to five but only until noon on Friday, so keep that in mind.
Luke nodded. We re planning on coming in next Wednesday.
Wednesday is fine. Both of you don t need to come in again it is just when you apply
that the two of you need to be present.
Luke seemed surprised at this. Well, we ll see, he said. Maybe the weather will be better
than this for a drive.
And it was better. We woke up on the morning of the seventh to a beautiful, glorious fall
day. The sky couldn t be bluer if it tried and there was not a cloud in sight. The sun was warm
but there was a tang in the air... the type of weather that makes you feel like gamboling in a
pumpkin patch or picking a few bushels of apples not that I ve ever gamboled in my life, but it
was that sort of day.
I lay in bed, being lazy, watching Luke dress. God, he s handsome six feet, one hundred
and seventy pounds, not a spare ounce of fat on his body. He has chestnut brown hair and brown
eyes. He keeps his hair fairly short sort of a corporate look, but then he is corporate, so he has
to play the part. He reminds me a little of Jim Palmer, the Orioles pitcher. Luke was a pitcher,
too, so I suppose it is natural that I would make that connection.
He put on olive green chinos with a muted plaid shirt. You look nice, I said and Luke
smiled at me.
I want you to look nice too... no jeans today. I made reservations somewhere special for
lunch.
Tell me where?
He shook his head. Nope. It s a surprise. Luke rummaged in the closet and pulled out a
pair of khaki twills. Wear these, he said.
Yes, sir! I answered. And a shirt?
He looked again and pulled out a blue oxford cloth. I chuckled. You re so conservative, I
said. Can I at least wear the pink one?
Okay, he conceded. He looked at the pants. These are the trim ones, right? The ones that
make your ass look good?
All of my pants make my ass look good, I said with a wink, as I rolled out of bed.
~~~
We decided to mosey on down Route One instead of the interstate, this time with the top
down, stopping at the liquor store in New Hampshire to buy a case of Brancott Sauvignon Blanc
from New Zealand my favorite. At the city clerk s office there was no line and Rich
remembered us. Your license is good for sixty days, he said. Are you getting married here in
Newburyport?
No, I said, Provincetown in ten days.
Well, if you change your mind, I think our city is a good luck place. I was married here
twenty-six years ago and still love my wife as much as I did on the day I proposed.
I smiled and thanked him, and Luke tucked the license in his wallet.
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