Sweeter Than Wine (36 page)

Alice thrust the offending garment at Maria. "Oh Maria, it doesn't
fit
!"

Maria took the dress and examined it. "It seems all right to me, Mrs. R. Oh, no.
Don't cry!" Maria sat down next to Alice and patted her shoulder.

Alice folded in half, burying her face in her hands. "I don't have time to alter it! I
already have too much to do! And I c-can't afford to buy a new one!"

Maria stroked Alice's back. "It'll be all right, Mrs. R. You'll see."

"B-but who will help me?"

"I will," Maria vowed. "And I bet, if we let Gertie Breitenbach know, she'll come
up with something. You don't need to do everything by yourself. You have friends.
You're not alone."

* * *

Friday, September 19

On the afternoon of the day before her wedding, Alice stood by the lace-
curtained window in her bedroom, watching Siegfried and Peter load
disassembled trestle tables and benches into her Model-T so that they could
transport them to the reception hall.

Preparations for harvest and crush and the wedding had continued at a frantic
pace. True to Maria's prediction, the congregation of St. Francis pitched in. Betty
Sullivan volunteered to decorate the church. Several parishioners who played
accordion and fiddle offered to provide music for dancing. The Kundes and
Bundschus each pledged a keg of beer and a case of wine.

She found herself watching the movement of Siegfried's broad shoulders, and
wondered if she would ever be able to follow the rules of respectable conduct
between man and wife.

She turned away from the window and opened the bottom drawer of her
dresser, retrieving a stack of dog-eared advice columns clipped from women's
magazines and pamphlets. She had been collecting them for years, trying to make
up for the lack in her own upbringing. Glancing over them now, she realized how
far short she fell of the mark.

She sat down on her bed, placed the packet of papers on her lap and untied
the ribbon that bound them. Then she leafed through the sheets, seeking an
answer for her present dilemma. There was a battered copy of the
Ladies'
Home Journal
near the bottom of the stack. Alice opened it, and the magazine
fell open to an article entitled "A Girl's Preparation for Marriage."

In it, Mrs. Preston offered advice to a young girl who had dared let a man hold
her hand before they were properly engaged:

...this sort of familiarity...acts directly and subtly on the nerves of the body,
renders them morbidly sensitive, rouses the emotions and passions which it is
physically harmful to have roused and played upon...it wakens and stimulates
feelings and instincts and desires that should not be wakened...

How true! Alice chewed on her lower lip. She had already allowed Siegfried to
waken those inappropriate passions within her. Now they smoldered, like embers
under cool gray ash, needing only his touch to flare.

She put aside the
Ladies' Home Journal
, and selected a yellowed
pamphlet written by a minister's wife about the danger that lust posed to proper
marital relations.

Alice shivered as she read. Rather than finding Siegfried's attentions revolting,
they engendered in her the basest sort of excitement and arousal. Oh, yes, she
was definitely treading dangerous waters with him.

Through the window, she heard the Model-T's engine cough to life, and slowly
drive away. She did not hear Siegfried enter the bedroom.

"Alice?"

She jumped involuntarily, dropped the pamphlet, half-rose, then clutched
frantically at the papers cascading from her lap.

Siegfried chuckled and knelt to gather up the papers that had eluded her
grasp. "I did not mean to startle you." He settled himself down next to her, and put
an arm around her. "What are you reading,
schätzchen
?"

He brushed a wisp of hair tenderly off her forehead, tracing the outline of her
ear with his finger. Alice shivered pleasurably as he leaned closer and she felt his
warm breath on her neck.

"Just some instructions," she replied, fighting to keep her voice calm as he
began kissing her cheek, his lips traveling down to the side of her throat, sending
delicious tingles to the place between her legs. "On being a good wife." She
gasped as his teeth closed gently around her earlobe. "Siegfried, please! It's the
middle of the afternoon!"

He sighed, and pulled away. "I find you a perfectly good wife," he protested,
snatching up the pamphlet from her lap. He read a few lines, a frown deepening
between his fair eyebrows. "
Nichts als Quatsch!
"

"I beg your pardon?"

His lips moved as he read. At her question, he glanced up. "What utter
nonsense!" He tossed the pamphlet to the floor with a contemptuous flick of his
wrist.

"It's
not
nonsense, it's how respectable women behave! And I wish you
wouldn't make fun of it!"

"Perhaps I don't want a respectable wife," Siegfried suggested. "I like you very
much just the way you are." His arm tightened around her and then he was kissing
her. Alice's world narrowed down to the warm pressure of his lips against hers.
Siegfried's other hand briefly cupped her cheek, then stroked lightly downward to
her breast, where her nipple contracted almost painfully, seeking the heat of his
palm through thin layers of cotton and silk.

Siegfried's kiss deepened at her gasp, and he began rubbing his hand over
her breast in light, sensual circles. Alice's breathing became ragged, and she
arched against his hand, allowing the thrust of his tongue into her mouth, wanting
more,
more
....

Dazed, she let him push her back onto the bed, welcoming the abandoned
thrill she felt as he continued to caress her. Then he captured her hand and placed
it against the front of his trousers. "Perhaps I want my wife to be a little wicked with
me in our marriage bed," Siegfried said, lifting his mouth from hers momentarily,
his voice uneven.

She loved the feel of his arousal, knowing she had the power to satisfy him.
She touched him gently, searching out his buttons, and remembered suddenly a
conversation she'd had, shortly before her father had whisked her away from her
mother's house.

The girl had called herself Katie and hadn't been much older than Alice in age.
But in worldly terms, she'd been far Alice's senior. New to her chosen profession,
Katie was cheerful about it, and very grateful to have found a place in Florence's
upscale business, catering to gentlemen. She had befriended Alice on the sly, and
had been a fount of extremely interesting information. In particular, Alice recalled
an amazingly instructive session with a Coke bottle which had simultaneously
appalled and fascinated her. All these years, and she still wondered if Katie had
been pulling her leg. Maybe she'd find out.

Siegfried's grin widened as she slid off the bed and onto her knees in front of
him. "I can be
very
wicked, Siegfried. Just for you..."

As she finished unbuttoning his trousers, she felt his fingers fumbling at the
pins in her chignon. Her hair tumbled down and spilled across his thighs like a
copper curtain, giving her the privacy to be bold in the bright light of day.

"
Das fängt ja gut an!
" Siegfried exclaimed, quivering as her mouth
touched him. He pulled her head closer.

Alice kissed him intimately, making him groan, and his fingers threaded
through her hair.

"Don't stop," he begged, the last English phrase he was capable of for quite
some time.

She discovered what she had known all along: she was very good at being
wicked.

* * *

It was time to leave.

Alice tried futilely to tuck the last wisp of hair into her chignon, but it wouldn't
go. The spray of flowers was too tightly pinned, and there wasn't room to
maneuver her fingers.

Outside, Peter hit the Model T's horn again.

Maria, wearing her best beaded blue dress, bustled through the hallway. "Mrs.
R.! You look just beautiful. Now come on!" She dragged Alice bodily out the front
door. "It's one thing to be late for your own wedding as the bride, but we've got to
get the whole wedding party to the church in your truck! Hurry!"

Maria handed her up into the passenger side of the Ford. Peter scowled
impartially at them both. "About time! Hurry up, Maria!"

Maria scrambled into the back of the truck, where Siegfried sat, very correctly
upright, in a new suit, courtesy of Tati. He had covered the truck bed with a clean
blanket, so their clothes would be protected. Placed carefully next to him was the
bouquet of white roses he had cut early this morning.

As Peter bounced them down the hill toward town, Alice nervously smoothed
the loosely cut, high-waisted wedding gown loaned to her by Gertrude's daughter
Dorothy, now Dorothy Murdoch.

She felt like such an impostor, because she wasn't the virtuous woman her
neighbors thought her. She remembered the sinfully delightful things she had done
with Siegfried, and how good it had made her feel when he shouted her name.
Even now, on her way to church, she ached for him.

* * *

Peter pulled up in front of St. Francis and Siegfried hopped out, wincing a little
as he landed on his bad leg. He helped Maria down, then opened the door for
Alice. She was so lovely today, all chiffon and lace and white roses. Her face was
nearly as pale as her flowers.

He brought her cold hand to his lips. "Courage,
mein Schatz
."

She smiled wanly as she accepted the bouquet from him; then Maria led her to
the entrance. The two women would stay there until he and Peter were in position
at the altar.

"Daydream
during
the ceremony," Peter advised gruffly as they walked
up the aisle of the crowded church. He had grudgingly agreed to attend as best
man for Siegfried's sake.

Siegfried nodded. "You have the ring?" he asked, probably for the fiftieth
time.

"Nah," Peter elbowed him in the ribs. "I left it back at the house. Come
on."

* * *

The church was packed. People who had no business being here during the
busiest time of the whole farming year had come. Alice saw a blur of all their faces
as she walked slowly up the aisle. The organ music was deafening. The multitude
of candles around the altar burned with a noonday glare, obscuring the black-
coated figures of her groom and his best man.

Tati beamed at her from the front row. Hugh, in the pew behind her,
glowered.

She clasped the roses in her arms. A stray thorn pricked her, and she focused
on that single spot of reality as she joined Siegfried in front of the altar.

She remembered her first wedding, the reluctant releasing of her arm by her
father. She missed him, his funny jokes, his fast-talking blarney, his dedication to
bettering her life.
If only he could have been here today.

Father Byrne faced the congregation, spread wide his arms, and began the
Nuptial Mass.

Most of it washed over Alice with no more meaning than wind amongst the
trees. But as she stood, then knelt, then stood again for the various parts of the
rite, some sections stood out too clearly:

"Wives should be submissive to their husbands as though to the Lord..."

Siegfried smiled at her after that command, and she felt him take her hand,
helping her support the weight of the flowers.

Father Byrne continued: "Henceforth you belong entirely to each other; you will
be one in mind, one in heart, and one in affections. And whatever sacrifices you
may hereafter be required to make to preserve this common life, always make
them generously. Sacrifice is usually difficult and irksome. Only love can make it
easy; and perfect love can make it a joy. We are willing to give in proportion as we
love. And when love is perfect, the sacrifice is complete...
Greater love than this
no one has, that one lay down his life for his friends
."

Alice felt the eyes of the whole congregation fasten on the service flag,
standing a little forlorn now in the corner of the chancel. Bill's gold star shone
there, the last gleaming remnant of his life. Someday, when the flag was put away
for good, his memory, too, would be tucked out of sight.

A single tear escaped from her eye as she knelt for the blessing.
Good-bye,
Bill. I did love you
.

She stood up, with Siegfried's help, for the recitation of the vows. He stood
close enough that the warmed-wool scent of his new suit was nearly as strong as
the fragrance of the roses that she carried. He gazed at her tenderly as the priest
coached him through his promises. Siegfried's hand, clasping hers as he spoke,
was warm, truer than any promises he might make.

Then it was her turn.

"I, Alice Mary O'Reilly Roye, take you, Siegfried Heinrich Wilhelm
Rodernwiller, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for
better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us
part."

Father Byrne mumbled something about authority and the bond of matrimony;
then he was blessing them, and speaking to the congregation: "I call upon all of
you here present to be witnesses of this holy union which I have now blessed.
'Man must not separate what God has joined together.'"

There was a collective sigh, and not a few fluttering handkerchiefs. Alice heard
at least one full-fledged honk; then it was time for the next part of the
ceremony.

Siegfried imperiously held out his hand to Peter, who pantomimed dropping
the ring before grinning lopsidedly and handing it over. Siegfried gave the ring to
Father Byrne, who made the sign of the cross over it several times, praying,
"Bless, O Lord, this ring, which we are blessing in your name, so that she who
wears it, keeping faith with her husband in unbroken loyalty, may ever remain at
peace with you according to your will, and may they live together always in mutual
love."