He walked through the elite neighborhood, with his shoulders slumped. "Well that turned out fine, Fred... you kissed one lousy supermodel bridesmaid, and you lost the Cappleson fortune."
A pure white Persian cat was sunning itself ahead on the sidewalk. Stretched out, it was obviously asleep.
He smiled without opening his mouth. "I wonder if you can fly?" he whispered.
When he reached it, he took a quick look around. After being assured that he was indeed alone, he drew back his right leg.
"What the -?" he started, looking at the empty patch of sunbaked cement. The sleeping cat was nowhere to be seen.
He heard a lovely, soft humming. It was coming from the next estate.
He was unable to see her because of the neatly trimmed shrubbery. "I wonder if she's as beautiful as she sounds?"
Looking at the well kept front lawn and high iron fence, his hopes rose. "This is an old estate. These places always have lots of property, and usually come complete with big bank accounts..."
When he was even with the source of the tune, he stopped. Putting his hands through the intricately decorated wrought iron bars, he tried to part the bushes.
Finding them too dense, Fred stepped back and straightened his jacket and tie. "Hello, Miss?"
The humming stopped. "Hello?" a soft female voice inquired.
"Excuse me, I couldn't help but hear your humming. What tune was it, please?"
A few seconds later, a woman came around to the front gate. Her plush black bathrobe matched the black ceramic coffee mug clasped in her hands.
Strolling over, Fred smiled broadly. "I've never heard that one before - or such a lovely voice."
He was careful not to betray his disappointment. "With that voice, it's a shame that she's as plain as a blank sheet of paper. I might have actually kept her along with the house and money if she was hot," he thought.
The woman's face lit up. "Thank you, my grandma used to hum it when we would tend the garden together. I was just looking at her prize roses and remembering my childhood..."
His eyes widened. "She grew roses?"
"Yes, the best around."
"My Grandma Patterson did too. She was so proud of them. I haven't seen her garden in years... would you mind if I had a look at your magnificent roses?"
The woman smiled, and touched the gate. It swung open easily, and Fred strode onto the estate.
He had to restrain himself from whistling in appreciation. "That mansion has to be worth several fortunes. Not including any jewels, stocks, bonds, and such," he thought in awe.
"You have a beautiful home, Miss," he said aloud.
"It's Vivian. And thank you, it was Grandma's. I take care of it just like she used to."
"You must have loved her dearly."
"Oh, I did - and do. Growing up, I spent all of my free time with her. Of course I loved Mother too. But she was... strict."
Fred cringed inwardly at the idea of Vivian's relatives. "I wonder if old Granny and Mom looked like Vivian here? I'm glad I'll only have to give the illusion of being attracted to her for a short time," he thought to himself.
"I understand. Grandma Patterson will always be my favorite lady," he said aloud.
She smiled, then looked pointedly at his left hand. "Who is your favorite lady to spend time with these days?"
Fred turned his back to her, as if in sadness. Grinning from ear to ear, he put his hand to his forehead. "I'm all alone in this world. I never had many relatives to begin with. Those few precious souls have... moved on..."
She put her hand on his shoulder, gently turning him around.
Quickly he adopted a somber expression.
"You must miss them so... surely there's a young lady to ease your sadness?"
"There used to be... I failed her though. I couldn't give her everything she wanted in life."
"I'm sure that's not true, Fred."
Despite himself, he laughed harshly. She'd doubted one of the few truths he'd told her, while accepting everything else!
Her dark eyes widened, and she stumbled backwards.
"I'm sorry! I guess it still stings," he stammered.
She stopped, and waited for him to continue.
He lowered his voice, and hung his head. "She needed and deserved so much more than I could offer."
After an awkward silence, Vivian spoke. "I'm alone too. Grandma died when I was eight, and Mother handled the estate until I was of age. Then she died while I was still barely a woman."
He folded his hands, and looked down. "That's heartbreaking..."
"I almost married a few years later. But on our wedding day, my fiance sent a message that he had changed his mind."
"He was obviously a fool. He probably regrets it every day."
"Would you believe that I don't even know what became of him or my father, sister, and two brothers?" she continued, changing the subject.
Fred took both of her hands in his. "You deserve to be happy."
"I'm not sure if I know how to anymore," she whispered.
"Maybe I could come back sometime? Talking to you, and realizing I'm not alone in my grief... it helps.
"Of course. I think we can help each other..."
After several weeks of frequent visits, Fred dropped to one knee in front of Vivian's largest rosebush. He pulled out a small black box, and popped it open.
"I've never met anyone like you. It's like finding my missing piece. Marry me, so neither of us will ever have to be alone again?"
She covered her mouth, then revealed the most genuine smile Fred had ever seen.
Feeling the first twinge of guilt he'd experienced in years, the con man's face almost betrayed him.
Vivian was too ecstatic to notice, and almost before he knew it, the ring was on her finger.
She hugged him. "Let's get married here?"
He returned her hug, and closed his eyes. "Anything you want, my love."
Vivian tried to jump up and down, while still embracing him. "I'll arrange everything, all you have to do is bring your sweet self."
On the big day, Fred arrived well before the appointed time. He knocked, and was greeted by a woman wearing a silk powder blue dress, with a matching powder blue lace veil.
She seemed to be studying him from beneath her veil. "You must be the groom. Vivian will be down shortly."
There was only one other guest. Dressed exactly like the woman who had answered the door, she was sitting in a plush chair, stroking a white Persian cat.
A priest was standing in front of the fireplace, looking at some papers.
"I thought she'd want to have it in the garden," Fred said more to himself than anyone else.
"Perhaps she didn't want to take a chance on it raining?" asked the woman.
"I don't know... it seems like a beautiful day. A pleasure to meet you, Ma'am. Have you been friends with Vivian for very long?"
"We were both brought here for witnesses. You need at least two people to witness a marriage, you know. We've known her a long time. I don't think Vivian has any friends."
Guilt pierced his hard heart yet again. "I think I'll just freshen up, if you ladies will excuse me?"
The woman who was seated didn't so much as look his way. The other simply nodded before taking her seat.
Shaking his head, he retreated into the washroom. When he came out, he gasped. Vivian seemed to be floating down the spiral staircase. Her exquisite white gown accented her slender figure. "She's actually pretty," he thought.
The wedding march began to play, too loud for the enclosed area. The cake seemed entirely too large for the number of guests.
After the short ceremony and reception, the two women rose. The cat jumped onto its mistress's shoulder.
They followed the priest through a small door under the stairs. Not the magnificent ones Vivian had used, but the sturdy little staircase which she had said was for easy access to the wing which contained the bedrooms.
He looked at Vivian, and tilted his head. "I've never noticed that door before. Did you have it installed especially for the ceremony?"
She flicked her eyes towards the door, then back to her new husband. "Sort of. Now that we're alone, why don't we go upstairs?"
"How can we be alone? That door can't lead outside."
Curiosity getting the better of him, he strode forward, and turned the knob. His movements were quick and fluid, or perhaps his new bride would have stopped him.
Instead, she stood stock still, her mouth agape.
He found himself looking into a long, dark tunnel. Far away, there was a blue light. For a second, he saw three silhouettes. They matched the approximate shapes of the people and cat who had entered the room only seconds before.
Vivian gently put her hand on his shoulder, and drew him out of the doorway. She closed the door. "Let's go upstairs," she suggested again.
"Let's have more champagne, and another slice of cake first."
She smiled ecstatically. "Oh, we've had plenty. It's time to celebrate our union."
A week later Fred sat in the garden, staring at a newspaper.
"What's wrong, Dear?"
He showed her the paper. "It says I died here!"
She tilted her head, obviously confused. "Of course you did. How else could we begin our new life together?"
This post has been manually curated by the VYB curation project
