Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter Eight



   Today was a 'visit the doctor' day.  Orthopedist, to be exact.  Time to
get a tuneup on my broken leg.  The day started with Ronni getting out of
bed, going to the bathroom, and then coming back to check on me.  She bent
over and kissed me a few times, bringing me from drifting along in that
sweet spot between sleep and wake to fully awake.  She led me to the
bathroom for my early morning ritual, and then helped me to my chair in the
living room.

   She went in the kitchen to start a pot coffee.  While she was in there I
heard her on the phone.

   "Hi, mom!," She said.  "Yeah, we're up.  I was just checking to see if
you're making breakfast.  Otherwise, I'm fixing him a bowl of Cheerios."
She giggled.  "No, Mom.  THAT'S not the reason." She paused.  "Oh, don't
worry about it.  I'm sure a bowl of Cheerios won't kill 'im."

   So I got to eat a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast.  She sat in the chair
near me, sharing the TV tray.  We turned on the news and let it play in the
background.  Finishing the Cheerios, Ronni collected the bowls and took
them into the kitchen, returning with two cups of coffee.

   She turned the TV off.  "Do we really need this noise?  she asked.  "I
mean, it's just so serene this time of the morning.  I don't know how much
of this we'll get to enjoy.  Usually there's something going on."

   "Yeah," I said.  "I'd normally be at work by now." That was the truth.
On a normal day, I got up at six, out the door at 6: 30 and in my office at
seven.  But for the past few weeks, life was anything but normal.

   A little later in the morning, Ronni help me get dressed for my upcoming
doctor's appointment.  Putting a shirt on me wasn't a problem anymore since
the bandages were off my arm.  Pants, though were another problem entirely.
The cast was too bulky to pull pants up over.

   "Tell you what," I told Ronni.  "Look up on the top shelf inside my
closet.  There's some old medical scrubs that I use for knocking around the
house."

   "Yeah, I remember seeing you wear those."

   "Uh-huh," I said, "that cotton is comfortable in the summertime.  Let's
sacrifice a pair those trousers."

   She came back with a pair.  "I think they're the rattiest looking pair
you had," she said.  "Let's get these pajamas off of you," she smiled,
kneeling in front of me.  As she unsnapped my pajamas, she started
giggling. "Oops," she tittered, "forgot you don't have underwear on."

   I laughed.  "Yeah, okay 'forgot'.  I haven't had underwear on for four
weeks, and YOU'RE the one that has dressed me."

   She looked around quickly, then her head bobbed downward, her mouth
opened, and she sucked my semi-erect dick into her mouth.  "Mmmmm," she
purred.

   I expelled a breath.  "Baby," I said, "don't tease me."

   Her eyes laughed as she released me from her mouth.  "'S not teasing,
love.  It's just a sample." She started pulling the scrub trousers up over
my legs.  When she got as high as she could over the cast, she stopped. 
She looked at me.  "Scissors?"

   "Yep!  Snip 'em right up the seam so you can pull the pants all the way
up."

   She complied.  The result was something that wouldn't win fashion shows
but met the requirements of modesty.  I wasn't going to a four-star
restaurant, I was going to a doctor's office.  After she finished with the
pants thing, she put a sock and shoe on my left foot.  Then she giggled. 
"If I was really dressing you up," she laughed, "I think I'd paint your
toenails."

   "Be careful, little one," I said.  "You will be a hopeless cripple
forever."

   About 20 minutes after that, we heard a knock on the door.  I looked at
Ronni.  "Baby, can you get that?" I said, sarcastically.

   And she bounced up, turned, sticking her tongue at me.  Opening the
door, she said, "Hi, Dad!  He's ready."

   The two of them loaded me into the wheelchair, wheeled me out to the
car, and seated me in the front passenger seat.  Ronni crawled in the back
seat behind me after she buckled my seat belt.  Alex loaded the wheelchair
in the back of the SUV, then drove us to the doctor's office where they
unstrapped me and rolled me into the waiting room.

   It wasn't long before my name was called and I was wheeled back into the
bowels of the office.  I was laid on the table, the old cast removed, a set
of x-rays taken, and a new shorter, lighter cast was applied.

   "Okay, Mister Dave," the doctor said.  "You're coming along quite
nicely. You can start hobbling around a little bit with this cast.  You can
put a little weight on the leg.  Try using it a little bit to keep the
muscles from atrophying.  Use crutches if you wanna move around any real
distance."

   "How much longer am I going to have a cast?" I asked.

   "Another two or three weeks," he said.  He looked at Ronni, then back at
me.  "You know," he said, "I can set you up with a plastic surgeon if you
want to see if you can do something about that scar on your head.  Hair'll
cover up most of it, but they can probably make it a little less
obtrusive."

   "Ronni?  You think I'll try and get it fixed so I can pursue a career as
a male model?"

   Ronni giggled.  "That's up to you, babe," she said.  "We can talk about
that later, but I don't think it's a problem."

   I looked at the doctor.  "She gets to say," I said.  "She's the future
Mrs.  Johnson," I told him.  "Our wedding day is set for the day after I
get my cast off, so that's why I'm asking."

   He looked at the two of us and said, "You don't have to wait till the
stupid cast comes off.  I know I wouldn't." He smiled.

   We had a little talk about painkillers and about do's and don'ts and
then I slid back into my wheelchair and out the door we went, the proud
possessor of a fine a new pair of crutches.  Thirty minutes later we were
home.  When we came in the driveway, Alex and Ronni came around with the
wheelchair.

   "No," I said, "let me try the crutches.  It's about time I was able to
get around on my own." Gingerly I eased out of the seat of the SUV,
carefully positioning the crutches, tripodding myself on my good leg and
the two crutches.  I eased my left leg down.  "There!" I said, "I'm
standing all by myself."

   Ronni giggled.  She knew I was trying to be funny.  "Wow!  Just like a
big boy!"

   "You sure you're okay, Dave?" Alex asked.

   "No," I said.  "Your daughter shows horrible disrespect for her future
husband."

   He laughed.  "Gets it from her mom..."

   I took a first tentative step, then another, and then confident of my
new success, I proceeded to my own front door with Ronni hovering nervously
beside me.

   "Ron, give 'im a little room!" Alex said.  "He needs to be able to do
that on his own."

   "Why?  I'm gonna take care of 'im anyway, crippled or not.  He's my
husband." She smiled at her dad, then pulled the keys out of her purse and
opened the front door so I could go in.

   Alex walked in behind us, checking on things around the house for me. 
"It's time to cut your yard again," he said.  "I can do it."

   "Nope," I said.  "Get the kid up the street.  He does a good job and
he'll appreciate the money, and you an' me can sit on the front porch an'
drink beer and watch 'im."

   "Yep, if you wanna be one of those guys that just sits on his front
porch an' watches other people do their yard work." Ronni said.  She looked
at her dad with an exaggerated frown.

   "See," Alex laughed.  "She's already denying you your simple pleasures."
He sighed.  "You gonna call that kid to cut your grass?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "His number's next to the phone." I lowered myself to
the sofa.  It was the first time I did that without assistance since the
accident.  I felt a sense of accomplishment.

   "I'll call him," Ronni said.

   "Well, if you two are gonna be okay, I'm gonna go see what Rena's doing.
We need to get something for lunch anyhow," he said.

   "Look," I said, "why don't you let me foot the bill for pizza for
supper?" I said.  "Savin' her the trouble of cooking dinner."

   "Well, if she's already got it on the stove, then we wait'll tomorrow
for the pizza thing?"

   "Well, see what she's got going.  It's always an option."

   "Okay," Alex said.  "I'll see you two later."

   "We'll be okay, Dad," Ronni said.  She watched her dad disappear across
the yard, then turned to me, smiling.  "Babe, you can walk now."

   "And that means exactly what?" I asked.

   "It means that just maybe you don't need to have me around here 24 hours
a day."

   "Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind?" I blurted.  "If I have any
choice about it, I'll never be without you around for the rest of my life."
I looked at her.  "Besides, hobbling around on crutches, I mean, that's a
step, but I'm hardly a hundred percent."

   She looked at me, smiling.  "Dave, I don't WANT to go.  But I've been
here every night for the last four weeks, almost around the clock.  You're
not, like, that tired of me?"

   "Not likely, sweet one," I sighed.  "Didn't I say I loved you?"

   "Yeah, but..."

   "Don't make me chase you.  C'mere, sweetie."

   She came closer.  I took her hand.  "Sit in my lap.  I think I need to
get my arms around you."

   She complied, settling in gently.  She looked at me with those big brown
eyes.  "Dave?  Are you sure?"

   "Are YOU sure?  Baby, I love you.  But I don't want to force you into
anything.  That includes you staying here, and that includes you marrying
me."

   "UH, Dave, that's not what I'm saying.  I just thought..."

   "If you thought I needed private time, sweetie, there may be a day where
that crosses my mind.  But I just can't see it.  Not from here anyway." I
kissed her.

   She circled me with her arms and buried her face in my neck.  I stroked
her soft brown hair, and let my hand stroke her back, savoring her curves.
"Baby, I want you to stay.  Forever."

   "Okay, baby," she whispered.  "I was just trying to give you a little
space."

   "Sweetie," I said, "maybe when we're older, uh, when YOU'RE older, we
may enjoy little bit of space but right now I just find myself very happy
to have you around."

   "You sure, Dave," she said.  "Not just 'cuz I was, like, helpful?"

   "Little girl," I said, "you were exactly as useful as I ever imagined
you would be, being helpful at a time when I absolutely needed it.  But
that's not what we said to each other.  It's one thing to lend a helping
hand, even several.  But you said you love me and when you said it, it was
the most wonderful thing I ever heard.  Because I love you.  Ron, I want to
MARRY you.  I even asked your mom and dad.  And you and I told the
neighbors.  Is that something that I would've done just to stay on your
good side?  Because you feed me?  Take care of me?"

   She looked at me from a very close distance.  "Uh, Dave, I, uh, WE did a
whole lot more."

   "Silly, silly little girl!  That's what I mean.  We did stuff that I
would NOT've done with you if I didn't love you.  I wouldn't let you do
things if I didn't think you loved me.  We talked.  Neither one of us was
into any kind of casual sex thing.  Love.  Had to be." I stroked her face,
willing my fingers to transmit my feelings directly to her.

   "I'm sorry, baby," she said.  "I guess sometimes, it just hits me. 
Dave, you gotta know how many nights I laid in bed thinking to myself how
much I wanted to be with you.  Married.  I don't know why.  But I do."

   "Then don't get all flaky on me, cutie," I chided.  "You an' me're gonna
be together for a long, long time.  We'll have plenty of time to get on
each other's nerves an' get all aggravated an' have good days and bad days
together.  Okay?"

   She answered with kisses.

   We stayed that way for a while, me leaning back into the sofa, Ronni
cuddled in my lap, her arms around my neck.

   Finally, she got up.  "Doctor said three weeks, an' you're out of your
cast.  D'ya wanna talk about the wedding?"

   "If you still want to marry me," I said.  "You sure?"

   "Sorry, babe," Ronni said.  "I know what's happenin'.  I think I'm
startin' my period.  I get, I dunno, maybe just a little bit, you know,
emotional?"

   "So that's it?  A period?"

   She nodded, her brown eyes soft, a little sheepish expression on her
mouth.  "I'm sorry.  Forgive me?"

   "Of course I forgive you.  Even though you haven't done anything wrong.
I mean, everybody's got MOODS.  As long as you still love me."

   "Only on days that end with 'Y'," she giggled.  "Now, about that
wedding..."

   "What about it?"

   "Dave, you get a say-so in this thing."

   "No," I said, "I get a Ronni.  It's, like, the BEST thing in the world."

   "But baby," she said, "how do you want to do it?"

   "Sweetie," I said, "I thought we had that all figured out.  You.  Me. 
Your mom and dad.  My sister and her family.  And past that, we send out
invitations.  We already invited George and Martha.  And anybody else in
the neighborhood that might be interested.  I'll invite some people from
work.  You might want a few people from school.  What else?"

   "Like who's gonna do the ceremony?"

   "Didn't we say the pastor of your church?" I thought for a second.  "Why
don't you see if your mom can come over?  I mean, if you want her to.  She
might have some ideas, but at least she needs to hear what we're talking
about."

   "That sounds like a good idea." She picked up the phone and dialed her
house.  "Hi, Mom!  Are you busy?" Pause.  "Yeah, if you can.  Me an' Dave
want to talk to you." Pause.  "Okay!  Just walk on in.  The door's
unlocked." Pause.  "Okay!  See you in a minute.  Love you, Mom!"

   Ronni turned to me.  "An' now we give you a few kisses.  I owe you."

   "Owe me?"

   "For gettin' all stupid and everything." Before I could reply, she was
kneeling beside me on the sofa, her arms around me, little kisses
preventing me from speaking.  She stopped when she heard her mom's
footsteps on the porch.

   Rena knocked.  Ronni went to the door and opened it.  "Mom!  I SAID it
was unlocked!"

   Rena laughed.  "Then how come you bounced off the sofa when you heard my
steps on the porch?"

   "'Cuz I didn't want you walking in on me, kissing him."

   Rena looked at me, then at Ronni.  "Don't you think that I might just
suspect that you and him have kissed?" Rena's eyes said something different
than what her mouth said.

   Ronni interpreted her mom's expression and immediately blushed. 
"Moooommmmm!"

   "So what is it y'all want to talk about?" Rena asked.

   "Your daughter and I were talking about the upcoming wedding.  I'm just
a guy.  I haven't a clue.  So we wanted you to get in on the conversation."

   Ronni excitedly conveyed our previous conversation to her mom.

   Rena looked thoughtful.  "So, like, a couple of dozen, maybe 30 people
tops?"

   Ronni said, "Gosh!  It's sort of blossomed, didn't it?  I was thinking
like twelve or fifteen people, tops."

   "Well, baby," Rena said, "let's go down the list." We talked about it
again.  Holding it in the neighborhood, it was kinda hard not to invite the
neighbors.  And my sister and her family.  Kinda hard to scratch them.

   After a few minutes of discussion, we settled on thirty.  "That
shouldn't be too expensive to cater," I said.

   After about an hour, the wedding moved out of Rena and Alex's backyard
and into their church.  Then Ronni put her foot down.  "Mom!  Me and Dave
WANT to get married in the back yard.  People on the block.  Dave's family.
Us.  Barbecue.  Okay?"

   "Okay," Rena said.  "July sixteenth.  I'll call the pastor." She looked
at us.  He'll be wanting to talk to you both.  Together and separately, I'm
sure."

   "I can do that, Rena," I said.  "I'll be here whenever..."

   "By the way, son-in-law," Rena said, "I appreciate what you told Alex
about pizza.  Tomorrow, okay?  I got a casserole in the oven for dinner."

   "Okay, mother-in-law," I laughed.  'Mother-in-law', and she was MY age.

   Mid-afternoon, the phone rang.  Ronni answered.  "Oh, hi, Reverend
Jenkins!" Pause.  "Yessir.  He's here.  He can get around on crutches now,
but I still help 'im out." Pause.  "Yessir.  Here he is!" She passed me the
phone.  "Reverend Jenkins.  Our pastor."

   "I know," I said.  "I'm not THAT big a heathen."

   She giggled.

   I took the receiver.  "Hello, Reverend Jenkins."

   "Mister Dave Johnson, you can call me Paul if you want..." he said.

   "Okay," I said.  "You can be Paul if I can be Dave..."

   He laughed easily.  "Sounds good.  Miz Rena tells me news of you and her
daughter.  Marriage?"

   "It's true, Paul," I said.  "Ronni's the silver lining to my recent
cloud."

   "So Miz Rena tells me that you two want me to perform your wedding?"

   "True statement," I said.  "Ronni's idea.  You're her pastor."

   "Well," he said, "I'd be happy to do the service.  But you have to
understand, I need to talk to the two of you.  Together.  And one at a
time."

   "That sounds fair enough to me," I said.  "Would'nt've expected anything
different.  When do you wanna do it?  Talk to us, I mean?"

   "Any time you want," he said.  "This afternoon?"

   "Uh, well, it's not like I'm gonna be out joggin'," I laughed.

   "Yeah, how's your recovery going?"

   "Went to the doctor this morning.  Got a walking cast.  I'm finally
mobile again."

   "You and Ronni gonna be available in say, an hour?"

   I spoke to Ronnie in a voice loud enough so that Reverend Jenkins could
hear.  "Ronni?  You gonna be here in about an hour?"

   "I don't have anything else to do," she said.

   "We'll be here," I said.  "So we can expect you about an hour?"

   "Okay, then," he said.  "I'll see you in about an hour."

   "Sounds good, Paul," I said.

   An hour later, I heard a car pull up into the driveway.  A middle-aged
man exited the car, informally dressed, carrying a small black Bible in his
hand.  Baptists!

   Ronnie was at the door and opened it at his first knock.  "Hi, Reverend
Jenkins," she said brightly.  "Come in!"

   He walked in.  I extended my hand and welcome.  "You'll excuse me if I
don't just jump up," I said, smiling.

   He eyed my cast as well as a sartorial splendor of the scrubs that I had
on, the ones altered by Ronni for my doctors visit earlier in the morning.
"Impressive!  How are you feeling?" He asked.

   "Pretty good, actually," I said.  "Been off painkillers for a couple
weeks.  An' I just got this new cast this morning.  I can actually get
around on crutches."

   Ronni sat on the sofa next to me.  Reverend Jenkins looked at us both.
"So you're getting married?"

   We both nodded.  Ronni's nod was a little bit more energetic than mine.
"Yes sir," she said, smiling.  "And we'd really like you to do the
ceremony. You've been my pastor for, like, years!"

   "I like doing weddings," he said.  "But, you know, I kinda like to talk
to the participants ahead of time.  I take the whole idea of marriage
rather seriously." He looked pensive.  "Today, though..."

   "I know," Ronni said.  "There aren't that many kids in my high school
that still have both parents married toeach other."

   I sighed, commenting, "And I'm one of those statistics that you're
probably thinking about right now."

   "Well, Miss Ronni," Paul said, "I guess this is as good a place to start
as any.  Can you let me and Mister Dave have a little time to talk?"

   "Sure," she said.  "Be nice to 'im..." She smiled and waved her cell
phone as she left.  "Call me..." And she bounced out.

   "She sees this as a milestone, Paul," I said.  "Marvelous girl..."

   "That's a good place to start, Dave.  She's a girl.  Seventeen.  You're
what?  Forty?"

   "A year shy of that, Paul.  Thirty-eight right now, birthday in a
month."

   "Age difference is a REAL issue, you know..."

   "Or not," I countered.  "Marriages fail for a lot of things.  Mostly
because people just quit trying."

   "Yes," he said, entering his 'counsellor' mode, "and one of the things
they have to try is how to get along with one another.  Interests, likes,
dislikes... It's easier if the ages are closer."

   "I can understand some of that.  Ronni and I have talked.  She's not the
mall rat, pop culture, 'latest fad' kind of girl, Paul.  Not flighty,
air-headed.  A thoroughly decent girl."

   "Your neighbor's daughter."

   "Paul, I never thought of her as belonging TO somebody.  She IS my
neighbor.  And her mom and dad are some of my best friends.  No, scratch
that.  They ARE my best friends."

   "A lot of people would ask questions, Dave."

   "Yeah, I know... Let's see: 'How long has this been going on?' Paul,
that depends on who you ask, and what you define as 'going on'.  Ronni
tells me that she announced to her mom and dad that she wanted to be my
wife when my first wife left me an emotional train-wreck.  I've always
admired Ronni as an unusual young lady.  But if you mean 'going on' as in
we BOTH knew how each other felt?  That's just since a few days after my
accident."

   "That's ONE of the questions, Dave," Paul admitted.  "I'd ask it
myself."

   "I'd ask it, too," I admitted.  "Uh, next question: ' Is she pregnant?'
No!  She's, as far as I know, a virgin, by her own admission."

   "Her parents tell me she's the proverbial 'good girl'," Paul said. 
"That's a 'plus', as far as I'm concerned.  What about Dave?"

   "Nope!  Nothing since I was married.  Some of us still have morals, you
know..."

   "Would you lie to a preacher?" he said.  There was a hint of a smile.

   "Nope.  And not like I didn't have opportunity.  Single guy.  Good job.
Owns his own home.  You have any idea how many women regard that as the
keys to, well..."

   "I can imagine," he said.

   "But I didn't.  Had to find one that 'clicked'.  More to life than arm
candy.  At the end of the day, it's gotta be somebody you can talk with."

   "You oughtta teach seminars," Paul laughed.

   "Wasn't easy, Paul.  Mister George next door asked me if I was gay, you
know, being single and no women visiting."

   "And Ronni?"

   "Ronni was a young friend.  You know Alex, her dad, right?  How he has
to travel for work?  I was kind of the adopted 'team dad' in Alex's place.
Drove Ronni and her team-mates to events, that kind of stuff.  Helped
coach."

   "So you..." he started.

   "I know Ronni.  I've watched her on her best days and her bad days. 
I've been tutor to her in schoolwork her mom and dad weren't comfortable
with.  Not just Ronni, either.  I've had four or five kids here for algebra
lessons."

   "What about a future together?"

   "That's easy, Paul," I said.  "I'm in good health.  I expect to be
around for forty more years.  I asked Ronni the same thing, and she told me
that forty years was more marriage than most people get these days."

   "True enough," Paul admitted.  "Kids?"

   "Sticky point.  First wife had a difficult pregnancy.  I got a vasectomy
so she wouldn't risk another one.  Ronni knows about it.  There ARE
options."

   "One more thing, Dave.  I've seen you in church, but you're not a
regular."

   "Paul, just because I don't go doesn't mean I don't believe."

   "Fair enough," he admitted.

   "Paul," I said.  "I love the girl.  What else do you need to know?"

   "Nothing," he answered.  "I suppose that talking with Ronni's not gonna
change anything, but I do need to talk to her."

   I picked up the phone and dialed her.  "Hi, Ron," I said.  "Reverend
Jenkins would like to talk with you now."

   "Everything okay?" she asked.

   "As okay is it'll be until I get the cast off, and marry you."

   Squeal!

   "I take it that she's happy?" Paul asked.

   "Stays happy.  One of the best things about her," I said.

   We heard the footsteps on the porch, and she walked in.

   "Can we go sit on the porch and talk, Miss Ronni?" Paul asked.

   "Sure," she said.  "Baby," she said, looking at me, "D'ya need anything?
A coke?"

   "Nah," I said.  "I'm good.  Go talk."

   The two of them went outside.  I stuck my earbuds in and listened to my
iPod until I felt the door open.  Ronni entered first, smiling, followed by
Paul.  She sat on the sofa beside me.

   "Okay," he started, "I've talked with both of you and I'm satisfied that
this isn't some sort of suburban fling going on.  Dave, I've known Ronni
ever since I started as pastor of this church.  I know her folks.  And they
know how I am about performing weddings.  You can go get married by a
Justice of the Peace, if you want, but you guys asked me instead, so that
means you both think of it as more than some legal thing.  I wanted to see
how you felt about it as human beings, on a personal and spiritual level.
And I've satisfied myself.  " He opened his bible and pulled a sheet of
paper from between its pages.  "I have you two down for July Sixteenth,
right?"

   Squeal!  "Yes!" Ronni said.

   "And you're doing the ceremony here in your back yard?"

   "Friends.  Neighbors.  Family.  And in the sight of God." I said.  "How
it's supposed to be."

   Paul smiled.  "Yes, I think that's a better deal than 'princess for a
day', guys.  And Dave?"

   "Yessir?"

   "Show up at church.  We'll let you park in the handicapped slot for a
while." He laughed.

   "I'll do that," I said.

   Ronni walked him to the door.  Her next move was to call her mom. 
"Mom!" Pause.  "Yes, we're finished!  Reverend Jenkins is gonna marry us!"
Pause.  "Okay!  I'll be right over!"

   She smiled at me.  "Nope!  Gotta KISS you," she squealed.

   I relished the kisses.

   "I'm goin' get us dinner, baby," she said, heading out the door.  Ten
minutes later, she walked back in with Alex and Rena.  And a tray of food.

   "Another hurdle passed," I told them.  Ronni nodded happily.

   "I'm glad for you two," Rena said.  "I know we could've gotten somebody
else, but that's OUR church."

   "Yeah," Alex added.  "Make it as respectable as we can.  Don't matter,
though.  You know how many people are putting an 'X' on the calendar when
word gets out, to see if we become grandparents?"

   "Fooled 'em, didn't we, babe?" I said, grinning at Ronni.

   Her and her mom both giggled.

   After dinner, I requested my crutches.  The gang, me and my future wife
and in-laws, walked out into the late afternoon.  I plop-clumped my way
across the yard with my crutches, stopping to wave at Mister George and Miz
Martha who were sitting on their porch.  I made my way to my chair and sat
down.

   It became readily obvious that the news of the impending wedding was
out. Another of the nearby neighbors, a woman several years younger than
me, came over, trailed by a little girl just a bit older than a toddler.

   "Hi, Dave.  Hi, Ronni!  Alex.  Rena!  I heard the news.  Ronni,
congratulations!"

   "Thanks, Mizz Liz," Ronni said.

   The little tow-headed girl said, "Ronni, you're getting' MARRIED?"

   "Yes, Kaylee," Ronni smiled.  "To Mister Dave." Ronni's smile deepened.
"Miz Liz, we're not doin' a real fancy wedding, but if Kaylee could wear a
nice dress, I need a flower girl."

   Little blue-eyed blonde girls are really cute when they smile.

   "When's the wedding?" Liz asked.

   "July Sixteenth.  One PM.  In our backyard.  The whole neighborhood's
invited.  Wear what you want.  But Kaylee..."

   "I've got a REAL pretty dress, huh, Mom?" Kaylee said.

   "Wear what you want?" Liz asked.  "Like Ricky can wear a t-shirt an'
jeans?" Ricky was her husband.

   "Perfect!" I said.

   "Dave..." she smiled.  "You an' Ronni... I guess, really, she's a
better, LOT better, match than my friend I tried to set you up with."

   Ronni's eyebrow arched.  I said, "oh, HER.  How's she doing?"

   Liz shrugged.  "Another husband come and gone, and she's thirty-seven
with a two-year-old..."

   Liz and Kaylee wandered off.

   I know Ronni was waiting to ask.  "She tried setting you up with her
friend?  Like a date?"

   "Yes, she tried setting me up.  EVERY woman has friends who're looking
for husbands.  And NO, no date.  The phone call was enough.  Woman was NOT
what I was looking for.  Even when I didn't KNOW I was lookin' for YOU!"

   That comment got me a hug from Ronni.  "Just so you don't have regrets,
babe," she said.