Short story

After thirty-eight years of marriage, Eric is wary of his wife’s bright ideas

Mildred’s eyes had lost their sparkle. ‘I’m sorry Eric, I’m not sure I can go through with this… I think I’ve made a huge mistake’

Mildred said to her husband: “I’ve been thinking.” They were sitting in the sunroom, Mildred knitting, Eric reading the paper.

“Oh, yes?” said Eric, raising his eyebrows, but not bothering to look up. “I don’t like the sound of that. The last time you started a sentence with ‘I’ve been thinking’ we ended up with a new kitchen.” “We needed a new kitchen, Eric,” Mildred replied. ‘The old one must have been there since the Eighties.”

“Hmm. They built things to last in the Eighties,” said Eric. “But anyhow, continue. What are you getting us into now?”

“I’ve been thinking that we should renew our marriage vows,” said Mildred. “What?” Eric exclaimed. “Why would we want to do that?”

“Just for once it would be nice if you said, ‘That’s a great idea, Mildred. Let’s do it’. No matter what I suggest, you always pour cold water on it.”

Eric put down his newspaper and took off his reading glasses. “I didn’t mean to pour cold water on it,” he said in a kinder tone. “But what do we want to go renewing our vows for? I mean, it’s not as if it’s a special anniversary – thirty-seven years.” “Thirty-eight,” Mildred corrected him. “So in another two years it will be a round forty. That’s more of a milestone. We could do something to celebrate then.”

“That will be our ruby wedding anniversary,” said Mildred. “That’s going to be a party in its own right. But I want to do something now.” Eric sighed. His wife could be a demanding woman at times. Before the new kitchen it had been a new patio. Before the patio, it had been a cruise. As soon as Mildred got what she wanted, she came up with something else. “Can I at least look into it?” she asked.

“Look into what? I have no idea what you have in mind.”

“Just the usual sort of thing,” Mildred said, trying to make it sound like a modest proposal. “A church service followed by a reception at the golf club for all our friends and family. With a cake. And flowers.”

“In other words, we might as well be paying for another wedding,” observed Eric. “And I suppose you’ll need a new dress.”

“Of course I’ll need a new dress,” said Mildred in exasperation. “And you’ll need a new suit.”

Eric thought he could hear their bank balance giving an audible whimper. But there was no point in putting up a fight – Mildred always won in the end. After thirty-eight years, Eric knew better than to waste his energy.

Over the next few weeks she showed him table plans and sample menus, made him look at endless floral displays on her tablet, and took him shopping for a new suit and shoes. Mildred was in her element – she loved a project. “We’ll choose your tie to match my dress,” she told him. Apparently the dress was taffeta and the colour was oyster. Eric had no idea what colour an oyster might be.

Finally, the morning of the big day arrived. Their children Ed and Sarah had arrived the night before with their partners and everyone was sitting round the breakfast table. Sarah was to propose the toast and Ed was going to make a short speech.

“Are you nervous?” Eric asked his son quietly.

“Of course not,” Ed replied.

“It must just be me then,” Eric mused, half to himself.

At 11.30, Sarah, peering out of the window, called out that the car from the vintage car club had arrived to pick her parents up.

“Come on, Mildred, your chariot awaits,” Eric called up from the hall. When his wife made her way down the stairs, wearing her new dress and with her hair freshly styled, Eric had to admit he was a lucky man.

“You look wonderful,” he said.

Yet there was something about her that was not quite right. No amount of carefully applied make-up could disguise the fact that Mildred’s eyes had lost their sparkle.

When they were in the car, on their way to the church, Mildred revealed the reason. “I’m sorry, Eric. I’m not sure I can go through with this. I think I’ve made a huge mistake and dragged everyone here just because I want us to be the centre of attention.”

Eric stared at her in disbelief. Mildred went on: “After all, who cares that we’ve been married for thirty-eight years? They’re probably all thinking what a fool I’ve made of myself.” “Hey, hey,” Eric took both her hands in his. They were icy cold, which wasn’t like the warm-hearted Mildred he knew. Yes, she’d wanted a new kitchen, but she used it to entertain their loved ones with her home cooking. And the patio hadn’t been just for her, it was a way of bringing their friends and family together to share food and fun.

He said: “Everyone we invited has said they’re coming. That’s because they want to celebrate with us, not laugh at us. You’ve earned this, my love, now is the time to relax and enjoy it.” “Do you really think so? I’ve half a mind to ask the driver to turn the car round and take us home.”

“Don’t say that. Look, let’s get to the church and get you inside. I guarantee when you see all those friendly faces, you’ll be glad you went through with it.” For once, Mildred did as she was told, although she still felt very shaky. Eric was right. Stepping into the church where they had been married, seeing the posies of flowers at the end of each pew and the smiling faces that turned to greet them, Mildred felt a warm glow suffuse her. Her fears melted away.

The simple service went smoothly and Mildred even found herself a little breathless with excitement when the moment came to renew their vows. Eric held her gaze unfalteringly as they promised all over again to love and honour each other.

“No mention of obey, you might have noticed!” Eric joked with old friends at the reception.

“And I didn’t promise to obey last time either,” Mildred retorted. “That explains a lot,” said Eric amid the laughter.

After a delicious meal, a speech of loving tribute by Ed and a toast from Sarah, the couple cut the cake before the dancing began.

Placing his hand over his wife’s as they cut the cake for the photographer, Eric whispered to her: “Thanks for thirty-eight wonderful years, Millie. I know I don’t always show it, but I love you to bits. And I’m perfectly happy about all those crazy schemes you dream up because you certainly make things happen.”

“Well,” Mildred replied, “you must have known what you were letting yourself in for all those years ago when I said, ‘I’ve been thinking… it’s really about time you asked me to marry you, Eric’.” “And that was your best idea of all,” said her husband.