One Journey, the Final

Chapter 35:

Carefully I opened my eyes, light instantly spilling through my sight. I was facing the outside of the bed, my vision perfect fixed on the window. Outside I could see the sunlight reflecting off of buildings, tree overgrown with wildlife and singing birds, and in the far off distance, Big Ben the giant clock. I smiled. It was a beautiful sight. I turned my head to look at a clock on the nightstand, 9:00. I moaned, turning around to see two piercing green eyes staring back at me, and a glistening smile. It scared me at first, but I was fine.

                “Good morning beautiful,” he whispered, pecking me on the lips. I smiled.

                “Morning,” I breathed. We snickered. It was all so unreal. Being married, waking up to Harry’s smile. I sat up now, crawled out of bed and put on a pair of slippers. It was a bit chilly out, goosebumps quickly forming. On a small breakfast table was a silver platter arranged with many breakfast foods; biscuits, fruits, eggs, bacon. Next to it was a small note written in beautiful calligraphy, “We hope you are enjoying your stay at the Dorchester.” I was. I picked up a banana and began peeling immediately. I walked back into bed, crossing my legs and sitting against the headboard. Harry sat up next to me now.

                “They left us some food for breakfast,” I said quietly.

                “I see.” We were both quiet for a while. I honestly didn’t know what to say.

                “What do we have planned for today?” I asked with my mouth full.

                “I could show you a bakery that I used to work at, or go on the London Eye—you know, I have an idea. Get ready,” he said, kissing my cheek.

Ok.

                “So, we’re going far enough to be in a car?” I asked as he buckled my seatbelt for me. We had rented a car for the day, and if we needed a car, it was far.

                “Kind of,” Harry said as he turned the key. The engine revved, and he sped away from the hotel. I was wearing a mint green, floor length sweetheart cut dress, and my hair was loosely curled. He turned up the radio, and a fun pop song blasted through the speakers. I put on my sunglasses, and leaned back, relaxing. With one hand on the steering wheel, his other was holding mine. After an hour drive, we pull up at a dock.

I felt like we were trapped in some 1940’s movie with the military husband and the little wife. We sat at little tables eating little sea salt crackers, listening to a sweet band sing softly as we swirled along the banks of the River Thames. The air smelled thick of sea water, and it was a moist thickness you could never escape from. The band was helping the moment though, making it seem less awful than it really was. Sometimes the lead singer would serenade a specific woman sitting alone, I was a bit glad I wasn’t one of them. I was happy enjoying soaking up the few moments of sun that London was being touched by, sitting next to Harry. Just as we were admiring the London Bridge, a calming voice said,

                “This next one goes to the lovely woman in the back.” I turned around because; I realized that I was the lovely one in the back. My eyes were wide, but the guy was glued to me. He was tall, pale, and had his hair gelled into a slick 1940’s do. His voice was relaxing and soothing, but it was a little strange to hear it coming from him.

                “…Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you…” he sang. I looked at Harry, who, was trying to keep his cool, but his knuckles were white from clenching. I tried not to notice, or send some verbal warning to the singer to stop singing. Just as he was getting to the last line, Harry stomped to the front and said with a booming voice,

                “Alright, alright, that’s enough Bing Crosby. That’s my wife. And only I serenade my wife.” He held out his hand for the microphone, and the singer handed it to him without another word. He looked a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight back. Harry gave some instructions to the band, and they started the song from the beginning.

                “This one goes to my beautiful wife, Bell. I love you sweetheart,” he said firmly.

                “Let me call you sweetheart. I'm in love with you…” he started to sing. His voice smoothed in with the flow of the boat. I melted into my own little pool of happiness. His voice always captivated me. I felt like we were the only two people here, the others slipped away. I probably looked drunk, but I didn’t mind. I was only listening to the sound of his voice. When he finished, he received a loud round of applause, a lot more than the lead singer guy had gotten. He looked really depressed now. I felt bad for him. Poor guy.

                “Well, thank you gentlemen. Now I’d like to go sit with my wife now. Here, Bing, take us away,” Harry said happily. He walked down the steps and towards our table, a smile on his face.

                “Well hello there Mister Grape-Flavored Jealous,” I said dumbly. He laughed faintly, and then we continued to enjoy this hot summer day in London together.

The day had gone by extremely slow. I came back exhausted, not only from the time difference, but from walking around all day. Sweat was crusted to my body, and I could hear the bathtub singing sweet melodies to me as soon as we walked through the door. I threw my sunglasses and purse onto the nightstand, flung myself on the bed, and just laid there for a few minutes, catching my breath and mind. Harry was in the bathroom, doing what only heaven knows. I closed my eyes, soaking everything in, counting my breaths. I ran my fingers over the stitching on the comforter, picturing the design in my mind. My body was quickly cooling down as the chilly London night air set throughout the room. The window was open, letting a breeze in. I felt goose bumps snake up my arms, the hair on my neck becoming prickly. I let out a huge breath, enjoying this private moment of my own. Just as I was feeling myself doze off, I heard Harry flush the toilet and turn on the water to wash his hands. In a few seconds he was out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his pants. I opened my eyes one at a time, trying to not get angry. It was our honeymoon; we were supposed to spend time together. Once both of my eyes were open, Harry looking back at me said,

                “Are you alright?” 

                “Yes, I’m fine,” I said, almost snapping my voice. He must’ve sensed my anger because he left to go back to the bathroom. I groaned and laid my head back down. Maybe he was having some internally bladder issues. I didn't care. This time I let myself fall asleep. I dreamt of lying in a blanket of clouds, ultimately comfy. It was a nice dream; I was hoping it would last for a while. Just as the dream was continuing where I would start eating the clouds because they were cotton candy, I felt a faraway nudge, calling me back to existence. The nudging continued, finally ending the dream and causing me to wake up. I shook awake, to see Harry standing above me, smiling. I find myself curled up in my dress, under a fuzzy blanket.

                “You looked cold,” Harry said quietly. I faintly smiled, appreciative. Just as I was about to surrender back to sleep, I see Harry’s in a towel—and only a towel.

                Let me first say, that I knew when I slipped that ring on my finger, I knew I’d be marrying Harry and all the special characteristics about him. One of those characteristics, to my shock, was that Harry often…strips down. I found that out one day when he opened his front door to reveal himself in only his boxers. He says he’s much more comfortable that way, and the band often teases him about it, but it still freaks me out a little when he opens the door and he’s in his underwear.

                “Harry!” I said instinctively, throwing the blanket over my eyes. I hide under there for a few minutes, until I figure everything out, oh yeah, I’m married to him now. So, technically, he can walk around naked all the time. Sheepishly, I unveil the blanket from my eyes, to show Harry that I’m blushing. He’s got a teasing smile on his face that makes me feel worse.

                “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says happily. Now, wide awake, I take him up on his surprise. He helps me out of bed, and guides me to the bathroom. In the two-man bathtub are floating petals in a bubble bath, surrounded by candles. I’m breathless. It’s a beautiful sight, and I was afraid to ruin it with any step I took further. All the pieces are together now. I quickly undress, and we shut the door.