Read The Short History of a Prince for Free Online

with the Miller boy, a young man who had a future in the medical profession and came from one of thewealthiest families in Oak Ridge. “Hello, my dears!” she called gaily to Francie and Roger as they came down the path. “Come, you two,” she said, as if they’d always been together. “We’re going to have the mass now.”
    She breezed onto the porch, and then lowered her head, demure all of a sudden, as she made her way to the altar. There was a hush as she slowly went to Ted and took her place before Father Flannery. “A faithful friend,” the priest intoned, “is a strong defense; and he that hath found such a one hath found a treasure.”
    “Does everyone do this?” Susan whispered to Walter. “Replay their wedding?”
    He moved close to her so he could speak right into her ear. “No, not everyone does this after twenty-five years of marriage. It’s optional. I think it’s like those Civil War reenactments. You get to dress up, fire your musket, have a bonfire, run around. It’s for fun, I think.”
    “But it’s sort of beautiful. It’s not only reliving their day of glory, but it’s—”
    “A way for Aunt Jeannie to prove that she’s thinner than everyone else her age and has a great hairdresser?”
    “No! They’re renewing their commitment, making a pledge for the next twenty-five years.”
    “And they get all these great gifts on top of it. Their children bought them a stereo. My mother spent a fortune on some silver teapot—”
    “It’s a good thing you don’t have a sister, Walter. She’d be stunted with you as the big broth—”
    “Shhhhh. Please.” It was one of the tennis ladies behind them.
    “Let us celebrate this union by hearing again the vows made on August 10, 1947,” Father Flannery was saying.
    It was difficult to hear Jeannie repeating after the priest, although the porch was much smaller than Ascension Church. She was choked up, dizzy with emotion, just as she had been the first time around. Walter reached for a drink, hoping Aunt Jeannie’s friends wouldn’t object to a minor’s having a taste. He drank through the vows, and the prayer of thanks for the day, for the family, for the continued good health of all of those present and for peace and prosperity. He was onhis third glass when Father Flannery announced that he would administer communion to the married couple and to anyone else who wished to come forward. Ted’s sisters had brought the loaves all the way from an Italian neighborhood in Chicago, and broken them into pieces in the kitchen. When Susan started up to the altar, Walter reached for her hand, pulled her back to him. “You can’t,” he said. “It’s a mortal sin if you’re not Catholic.”
    She stopped and considered for a moment. “This will ensure my trip to hell?”
    “Yes, that’s right. A mortal sin.”
    “Good. That’s good, Walter.” She raised her own glass of champagne to toast him. “I’ve been pure, you know, up until this point. But if I do this one thing, then I’ll be secure. I’ll know that we’ll get to the same place, that we’ll always be together. I love Mitch, but I don’t think he’ll really last into eternity, do you know what I mean?” She kissed him on the cheek and got in line, swaying a little, closing her eyes, already bracing herself, Walter thought, for the flames catching her hair, burning her face.

    After the mass, after he’d been released from his duties, Walter sat on the pier with Sue Rawson. Susan and Mitch had swum out to the raft and were wrestling, pushing each other off, struggling to get back aboard. There was that moment, as they hoisted themselves up, when they were suspended, their elbows bent, their torsos and legs pulled down by the water. After five years of ballet school Walter knew their bodies. Susan had virtually no breasts, two patty pies with penny-size nipples; each rib was clearly delineated all the way up to her clavicle, and in fifth position her legs tucked into each