Mountain Retreat

After the Reception

The newlyweds slipped away to change into their traveling clothes well after midnight. Taffy discarded the lavender skirt and blouse combo her mother selected as her departure outfit. Then, she dragged out an old duffel bag she used for camping weekends with Brian. She changed into an old pair of jeans and a pink, green, and yellow polyester top.

"Mama said I should help you change," sixteen-year-old Chantilly Miller stated, entering the women's lounge. Gasping at the faded bellbottoms her sister zipped up, she exclaimed: "You can't wear that!"

"Watch me," Taffy announced, yanking the multicolored blouse over her head. Rolling her eyes, she considered Tilly a bit on the insipid side. The younger girl never questioned the clothes her mother selected for her. She kept her dark hair tidily combed in a neat braid or high ponytail. Her solemn blue eyes held an apparent air of innocence. The rebellion that beat in Taffy's heart did not appear in Tilly.

"Mama won't like it."

"Mama can't say anything about it. I'm a married woman now."

"Oh." Tilly's mouth opened in a gape of amazement. It had not occurred to her that her sister's marriage create a change.

"Don't stand there with your mouth opened," Taffy coolly responded. "I don't need your help. Toddle along, and don't say a word to mama."

Slipping her feet into her worn Birkenstocks, she pulled her orange poncho over her head. Then, she prepared to make her appearance. Stepping into the corridor, she leaned against the wall to wait for Brian.

"I couldn't wait to get out of that monkey suit," Brain exclaimed as he stepped beside her. His wore brown and tan striped bellbottoms and a polyester shirt with a diamond pattern. Birkenstocks clad his feet also. "Ready to head into the mountains?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she breathed, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Let's wow them!"

Clasping hands, they entered the reception hall. Gasps filled the air.

"What do you think you're doing?" the bride's mother whispered, grasping her daughter's arm.

"Going camping!" Taffy responded.

"Camping," Matilda Miller muttered disdainfully.

Oblivious to the bride's mother, Uncle Mortie raised his champagne glass in a toast.

"To the Bride and Groom," his drunken voice called out. "May your days be plentiful, and your nursery filled with joy. Or is that: May your days be full of joy and your nursery plentiful. Or maybe..."

"That's enough, Mortie," Matilda admonished, fluttering her hands to quieten the drunkard. In a fluster, she hardly realized how her voice carried across the assembly.

"Either way, we're off," Brian called, taking Taffy by the arm. He pulled her away before anyone else could make a toast. Scooting down the back corridor, they exited the Country Club. Stepping into the cool night air, they both exclaimed: "What?!"

Shaving cream plastered Brian's prize Fiat Spider from front to back. The windshield proclaimed: JUST MARRIED; old tin cans hung from the back bumper.

"UNCLE MORTIE!" the newly married couple shouted in unison. Laughing, they scooped armfuls of cream from the windshield and smeared each other's faces. Brian landed a huge gob in Taffy's ear while Taffy opened Brian's shirt to lather his chest.

"Get going, you two!" Uncle Mortie stood in the exit. He propped both hands against the sides of his mouth to magnify his voice. "Go, young fools, while the night is still young!"

"We're going, we're going," they called, waving frantically at the uncle. Without bothering to open the convertible's door, Brian leaped over it to land comfortably behind the wheel. Taffy jumped in on her side. With a roar, the Spider smoothly swept down the long drive onto the deserted road. The mountains beckoned them.