PIT 4/5: The Wedding Shower

Points In Time

March 19, 2010

Thousand Oaks California

Thousand Oaks City Hall

3:54 PM

Milton Abrams and Beverly Schmidt and Donna Hammond in attendance as witnesses.

Dry hand holding dry hand, Marsha and Mitchell standing before the desk of ‘Municipal Judge’ Howard Dellwood...

“Do you, Mitchell, take Marsha…”

“I do!”

“Do you, Marsha, take Mitchell…”

“I do!”

“Is there a ring?” Dellwood asked.

Looking at Marsha, Mitchell shrugged his shoulders.

“Yes…” Marsha said “... but it’s back in Chicago.”

“Okay, considering the circumstances, we can do without…” Going on “... By the power vested me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The newlyweds kissed.

4:02 PM

Congratulatory handshakes and air kisses to the five in attendance…

“Mister Lipensky, we’re running a little late…” Beverly Schmidt said “… and we’ve a form to fill out and the marriage licence fee.”

On the way down the one flight of stairs...

“Unless you two want to be alone…” Milt said “...I’m buying dinner tonight.”

“At The Landing?”

“If you want, Marcie, yeah.”

“Yes, I want.”

“You want to go by boat?”

“Is there any other way… By boat. Yes.”

“Okay… Hugging Mitchell, then Marsha. “I’m really happy for you two… Seven-thirty okay.”

Outside Beverly’s cubical. “Seven thirty’s Perfect!” Marsha said.

“Oh, one other thing…” Milt asked “you want to eat ashore or on the boat?”

Beverly, obviously getting more than a bit anxious to end this day, pushed the two page form through the wood frame window.

“The boat…” looking at Mitchell, who nodded his head “...if there’s room, on the boat.”

“There is.” Milt said.

4:14 PM

“Here.” Pointing to the bottom lines of The State of California Marriage application.

“The fee…” Marsha said “...I want to Pay the fee!”

4:20 PM

Knowing it was nearing the dinner hour and the dinner crowd… Calling as soon as he got home…

“ ‘Landing Restaurant’!”

“Hi! It’s Milt Abrams…”

Milton and Mitchell well known by the entire ‘Landing’ staff.

“ ‘Evening Mister Abrams…”

“Audrey available?”

Within moments… “Evening, Milt.”

“Audrey, I’d like you to set up a wedding dinner…

“For when?”

“Tonight.”

“Kind of late for tonight, Milt.”

“No, it’ll only be for three, and on the boat.”

Disbelievingly asked. “You got married?”

“No, not me. ‘Mitch’.”

“Mitchell got married…” the regal appearing white haired lady she’d met yesterday “...the lady I met yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Never saw her before, Milt. Who is she?”

“His ex… Well…” Milt said “...guess Marsha’s not his ‘ex’ wife anymore.”

A true romantic at heart, “That’s ‘wonderful’, Milt! Just me and the trumpet okay?”

“Perfect! We’ll tie up about seven-forty-five.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

4:22 PM

The State Of California marriage application filled out and signed by both Marsha and Mitchell.

Writing their names and the date onto the Marriage certificate, Beverly Schmidt certified the authenticity of the parchment appearing document it by embossing it with her her official notary stamp onto the lower right side corner.

“That’ll be twenty dollars.”

Thank you...” Marsha said as, reaching into her purse, removing two twenties, and a ten dollar bill, she slid the three bills along the counter into Beverley’s cubical “...for the State of California, and for keeping you late.”

“Oh, no…” pushing one twenty and the ten dollar bills back “...we can’t take gratuities.”

“Okay, then! This is the third time Mitchell here…” nudging him with her elbow “… and me have been married…”

Oh, my, God! Mitchell thought. I forgot that one.

“You two have been married ‘twice’ before...” Beverly asked incredulously “...to each other?”

“Yes. we want it to keep this time, so stamp it again, will you…” tapping the lower left side of the document “...right here.”

Which Beverly Schmidt did, then slipping them into a breast pocket, accepted the thirty dollars.

4:34 PM

The red and grey Lincoln pulled out of the City Hall parking lot taking a fight turn on Thousand Oaks Boulevard at four-thirty-four.

“Mitchie…” squeezing his hand “...I can’t believe it!”

“That we’re married again...” he said, chuckling “...or, ‘so I’ve heard it said’, the third time’s always a charm.”

“This will be the charm, baby.” Scooting a bit closer, putting her arm about his neck, kissing his cheek. “We actually did it! We’re married again… I love you!”

“You know, I completely forgot about it.”

“Our first time? Me, too, and it just came out of nowhere.”

I was on the ‘Halfmoon’… he thought ...when the OD piped me to the fantail to tell me I had a call...

Staten Island, New York

July 12, 1955

1545 Hours (7:45 PM)

“Mitchie! Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Marcie. Boy, it sounds good to hear your voice again. I miss you so much.”

“Me, too, Mitchie… Mitch, I’ve got some good and some bad news.”

“Uh-oh! Give me the bad first.”

“We found out that after the blood tests there’s a three-day cooling off period before we can get married, and if there’s a screw up someplace it’ll ‘really’ screw things up!”

“Three days, Marcie? I’m only going to be able to stretch it for twelve days, and that won’t give us hardly any time at all.”

“Yeah, that’s the bad news. Want to hear what mother and me figured?”

“This the good news?”

“Yeah. So to be on the safe side, we’re going to have to be married twice.”

“ ‘Twice’? What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute, but first, do you think, under certain circumstances, that you might be able to get a three-day liberty and take a two-day leave at the same time, maybe right after your next patrol?”

“A seventy-two-hour pass and a two-day leave? The XO’s a pretty good guy, so maybe. I can try. Why?”

“If you can do that, it’ll still give us ten days leave for the real wedding, and time for us to get back to New York and, uh, get acquainted.”

“Marcie, please tell me what you’re talking about!”

“Okay, look. When you get back from patrol, on your first liberty weekend, see if you can get that Friday off, also, with Monday and Tuesday leave.

Leave the ship as early as you can on Friday morning and fly here. We’ll pick you up at the airport and go directly to get our blood tests and then we’ll be married on Monday, by a judge or a justice of the peace.

We’ll arrange that, and that’ll give us all day Monday, and Monday night, for us to be together before you have to go back on Tuesday…”

“…And that way, when we do have the real wedding, we’ll still have ten days before you have to report back.”

 Chicago, Illinois

 October 17, 1955

10:30 AM

At precisely 10:30 three cars left the north side of Chicago and drove downtown in caravan.

The lead car, a green 1953 Buick, was driven by Eli Goldman with his wife, Rhea, alongside him.

The second car, a maroon 1954 Buick, was driven by Walter Lipensky with his wife, Myra, as far from him as the seat would allow.

The third car, a gray 1948 DeSoto, was driven by Mitchell Lipensky, with Marsha Goldman, his soon-to-be-wife, practically sitting on his lap.

Stopping in front of an office building on Wabash Avenue, the three cars waited in a ‘No Parking’ zone as,… running into the building, taking the elevator to the doctor’s office on the fifteenth floor… picking up their blood test certifications, Mitchell rushed back to an elevator, down the fifteen flights to the gray DeSoto…

And the caravan continued.

Parking in a lot across the street from city hall. Going into the building, asking directions of an elevator operator… Riding to the third floor, the two sets of parents and two young people went into an office where, handing their blood test certifications to a wizened clerk along with five dollars, Mitchell was given a form that Marsha filled out, that both signed.

Sitting on wooden benches, the six waited for twenty minutes, until…

…In a short, civil ceremony, presided over by a judge in a black robe, with both sets of parents as witnesses…

In the eyes of the law—if not in the eyes of God…

Mitchell Lipensky – two months into his twenty-first year and Marsha Goldman – two days beyond her nineteenth birthday, were married.

Westlake Village, California

4:40 PM

 “They say, the third time is a charm.”

Pulling into the driveway at 2821 Waterview lane.

“It will be, honey…” Marsha said “I promise!”

4:52 PM

Soapy, warm water rinsing dried salt water from the heads and faces and nude bodies of Marsha and Mitchell.

He behind, lightly rubbing the large soapy sponge over

Marsha’s back as she stands bracing her body with both hands upon the shower wall.

Soapy water streaming from her hair and neck, her back and between the cheeks of her buttocks.

Stooping, on eye level Mitchell runs the sponge over the backs and front of her thins and up onto and into the hairy divide of Marsh’s buttocks and anus.

Kissing each cheek before standing.

Remaining behind, his chest tight upon her back, his arms about her, the soapy sponge now onto Marsha’s chest, onto and beneath each hanging breast and downward, onto her soft belly and into the remaining thatch of diminishing pubic hair.

Turning, face to face, chest to breasts…

“My turn.”

Reloading the absorbent sponge with liquid soap.

“Turn around, baby.”

Marsha now behind.

Lightly scrubbing her husband’s back and, reaching forward, his chest and downward onto his penis and still somewhat hairy pubic area.

kneeling, Marsha rubs the soapy sponge onto his thighs and calves and back into the into hairy divide of his buttocks and anus.

Still kneeling. “Turn around, baby.”

Before standing–not expecting, nor wanting a reaction, Marsha easily drew her husbands retracted penis fully into her mouth.

5:21 PM

Towel tamped and shaken dry, Marsha’s hair forming it’s natural halo of white curls, whatever remaining moisture upon their nude bodies drying in the gentle breeze emanating through the open slider in what is now Marsha and Mitchell’s bedroom.

Side by side, on their backs with thighs spread to allow soft air to circulate within the normally restricted parts of both bodies.

Passion sensed. But not the physical passion of their younger years but more-so an intimate inner glow radiating the warm sense that their lives will be lived together…

The mornings and days and nights within the glow of a love that could, but need not contain the erotic passion of youth, but more so the sense of close loving companionship.

Having a strong compulsion, turning onto his side, bringing his face and lips to Marsha’s bare shoulder, he kissed it.

When at one time the kiss of a breast might fulfill a compulsion, Mitchell’s lips onto Marsha’s cool shoulder is all he needs… Mitchell’s lips on Marsha’s cool shoulder is all he wants.

Turning her face to his, her hand onto the side of his head. “Mitchie, I love you!”

As for Marsha’s thoughts?

Still finding it hard to believe that she is ‘really’ here.

‘Really’ remarried and lying alongside this man she now seriously considers her ‘soul mate’.

More-so sensing the kiss on her shoulder than actually feeling it…

Touching the side of his face, Marsha Lipensky sensed soulful love so deep, so strong for this man…

Feeling a soulful love so deep, so strong for this gentle man, that unaware if her words…

“Mitchie, I love you!”

...were but a deeply felt thought or actually spoken aloud.

“I love you, too, Marcie.”

Next: PIT 4/6: Wedding Dinner