Would you care to sit down? Lyle said.
He removed some books from the couch next to the wall and wheeled up his office chair from behind his desk and sat near them. The woman was not tall and the short skirt of her white dress rose up on her thighs when she sat down. She took the boy’s hand on her lap.
This is Laurie Wheeler and I’m Ronald Dean Walker, he said.
It’s good to meet you.
You too.
When were you thinking of having the wedding? Lyle said.
Today, the boy said. He looked at the woman. Now. If that’s possible.
Yes. That’s possible. May I know something about you first?
What do you want to know?
Well, I wonder where you come from. How you met each other.
He comes from over by Phillips, the woman said. He grew up there. Didn’t you, Ronnie.
I was born there. I’ve been other places but I come back.
He works in a feedlot over there, riding pens. But he can do a lot of things.
I’ve done a fair number of things so far, he said.
He can fix anything you want fixed.
And yourself, Lyle said. What about you?
I came from South Dakota. But I’ve been in Colorado for about seven years.
I see. And what do you do?
I run a café in Phillips. That’s how we met. He came in for supper one night and didn’t have his billfold.
I forgot it out at the trailer. And I didn’t have no money on me to pay with. No checkbook neither. She thought I might be pulling something.
I didn’t really think that, she said. But you don’t know. You get all kinds in a public café. So we got to talking and then the next day he brought me back the money. And then he said, When do you close up shop, ma’am, if I may be so bold.
I was trying to kid her a little.
He’s got a good sense of humor.
And that was the beginning, Lyle said.
That was the beginning, the boy said. That’s how we got started. He looked at the woman and then at Lyle seated in the chair beside them. Can you marry us this morning like you said?
Yes. But you’re aware you need a license.
The boy reached inside his vest and unsnapped the pocket of his white shirt and took out a marriage license that had been duly prepared and stamped and handed it to Lyle. It had been folded and unfolded and was frayed at the creases. Lyle inspected it. Yes. This looks fine, he said. It looks legal and official.
They said we could get married if we was over eighteen and we are. Both of us.
I’m older than he is, the woman said. You probably noticed.
That don’t matter to me, the boy said. It’s only five years. She knows a whole lot more than I do.
Isn’t he nice, she said.
He seems like it, Lyle said.
He is.
But you know in Colorado you could marry yourselves, Lyle said. You don’t need me or someone like me or a judge even. Just the license and saying to each other we’re married and then afterward you return the license to the county clerk.
We know, she said. They told us that. But we wanted a preacher in a church. And in some other town than Phillips.
It’ll be a pleasure, Lyle said. You do seem to love each other.
We do.
Could you tell me why you love each other?
You want us to tell you why we come to love one another.
If you don’t mind. I’d like to hear it.
You go on first, the boy said.
All right, the woman said. She spoke very seriously. I love him because he’s such a nice man as I said before. He treats me gentle and careful. Not all men are like that you know.
No.
He’s reliable and he’s a hard worker. He’s not afraid of work.
I’ve held down a job ever since I was ten years old, the boy said.
He pays attention to things, she said. He pays attention to me. She looked at Lyle. All those reasons are why I love him.
I can see that. And why do you love Laurie?