Freeway of Love

The week shouldn’t have been as bad as it turned out. There were no major disasters, just a series of slow-moving ones that could have been avoided but somehow weren’t. By Friday evening, both the department head and the head nurse of Rampart General Hospital’s Emergency department were exhausted, so they opted for an evening of ‘indolence’ at Kel’s home. (Dixie had vetoed the descriptors ‘sloth’ and ‘torpor’ because the former sounded too sinful and the latter made her think of frogs). Dinner consisted of pizza and beer. For reasons that Kel had yet to completely comprehend, they were now spending far more time at his house instead of her apartment in comparison to their earlier attempt at a relationship. Whether it was the privacy or the pool or some unacknowledged attempt on both their parts to ‘do things differently this time’, he didn’t know, but he liked the results. The tone of the whole relationship was different as well. The passion was still there, but its underpinning was different. There was companionship and commitment.

This time both had been willing to let their respective guards down and to admit that they needed  - and wanted – one another and to sacrifice some independence for that emotional alliance. It hadn’t been easy, but in the months since they’d renewed their relationship, they’d crafted something both electric and enduring. Whoever had espoused the mathematical property that “the whole is more than the sum of its parts” had been right. However, tonight one of the parts wasn’t happy. Dixie had wandered off after an unusually quiet dinner, Kel assumed she’d gone off to the bathroom, but ten minutes had passed and she hadn’t returned. Since his presence hadn’t been requested for anything interesting, he’d settled in with the Dodgers and another beer.

Dixie padded back into the living room and dropped onto the opposite end of the couch.

That’s not a good sign. “Something wrong Dix?”

“I can’t find it.”

“Can’t find what?”

“My turquoise sweater. I found the earrings-”

Without thinking, Kel interrupted, “They’re in your silver box,” referring to the silver jewelry box that she’d brought over for her jewelry. He’d bought her the box in Acapulco, Joe Early had sprung for the earrings, as a thank you for arranging their joint attendance at a conference a few years before.

“Like I said, I found the earrings.”

“Your sweater’s at the cleaner’s. I was afraid to wash it, so I took it in with some of my suits. Sorry. I guess I should have told you.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s okay. Thanks for taking it in.”

“You’re not having a good day, are you?” Kel observed solicitously.

“Sorry.”

“’S’okay.”

“My feet hurt,” Dixie explained. “I don’t think that I sat down for more than five minutes all day.”

Kel motioned for her to prop her feet in his lap.

Dixie gratefully squirmed around to get comfortable, kicking off her shoes and stockings and then planting her feet in Kel’s lap.

“One ‘Magic Fingers’ foot massage coming up,” he promised, beginning to work on the flexor tendons of one foot.

“Ohhhh.” Dixie flopped back on the couch in delight. “That’s wonderful. Has anyone ever told you that you’re good with your hands?”

“I seem to remember having heard that before.”

After enjoying a few minutes of therapy, Dixie said, “I still have a problem though. I keep looking for my stuff at home, only to eventually find it here. I can’t afford to buy two of everything.”

An opening had presented itself. Kel gathered his courage and plunged ahead. Keeping his voice as even as possible, he suggested. “Maybe you should consider moving yourself and your vast collection of paraphernalia in here.”

“First, don't stop rubbing my feet, and second if you wanna play house it's gonna take more than magic fingers.” She knew he wasn’t serious; they’d never mange to keep that sort of arrangement under wraps.

“I have it on good authority that I have other magical – ”

“Kel.”

“Still not enough huh?" He worked his way down to arch of her foot. "What would it take?”

The foot massage was blissful and so she was only barely following the conversation. “What would what take?”

“To get you to move in.”

She raised her head off the couch to look at him. He might be serious. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Although Dixie considered herself a modern woman and thus not chained to a traditional role, she nonetheless countered with, “A marriage license.” No reaction.  Didn’t think there would be. She returned her head to the cushion.

“No ring?”

Ah, we’re teasing. She played along. “Oh, how could I forget? By all means I'd need an engagement ring.” And since we’re playing, she added, “A big one.”

Kel nodded but said nothing. After a moment he asked, “Diamond?”

“At least,” she confirmed.

“Anything else? Rubies, emeralds, sapphires...they're your birthstone.”

“Feet.”

“Feet?” Feet?

She poked him with her toe. “Feet. Rub.”

“Sorry.” He began massaging her foot again. “Dix?”

“Well, as long as we're fantasizing...” It wasn’t as if Kel would ever be willing to sacrifice any more independence than he already had. She'd come to terms with that. They'd never have a traditional relationship, but that was a concession she would have to make to have him in her life. “Sure,” she said, “throw in a couple of sapphires.”

“Okay,” he took inventory. “Engagement ring with a big diamond and sapphires and a marriage license. Big fancy wedding, small affair or how about eloping since I'll have bankrupted myself on the ring?”

“Eloping? Why not?” It was make-believe so she could afford to be a good sport.

“How about Vegas?” he asked.

“Sure. Vegas is good.”

Perfect actually, Kel thought. “Couple of hours by plane. Why waste time traveling that you could spend on the honeymoon,” he suggested lecherously. “Okay,” he lifted her feet and got up from the couch. “Be right back.”

Where was he going?

He was back in a few moments with the phone book tucked under his arm and a small Tiffany-blue velvet box. He dropped the yellow pages on the couch and sat down across from her on the coffee table.

She slowly swung her feet to the floor and sat up in cautious amazement. The evening had rapidly taken on a surreal quality.

“I've been trying to figure out how to do this,” Kel said, “but I just couldn't come up with anything that was special enough or romantic enough. I'm just not good at that sorta stuff Dix.”

He turned the box around in his hands and opened it.  Inside was a large, flawless emerald-cut diamond flanked by sapphire baguettes in a platinum setting.

“Kel?” she squeaked.

“It's yours, if you'll have it...if you'll have me.”

Does he really not know?  “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

He’d set her up. The whole thing had been a set up and he’d lead her right to… She didn't answer immediately. “What's the phone book for?”

He swallowed nervously. “Airlines, to book a flight to Vegas.”

She leaned across the small space between them, taking possession of her ring with one hand while the other wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. “Get us on the first available flight.”

******

Kel picked her up at her apartment an hour and a half later. She’d managed to throw together a suitable trousseau, although he’d seen every nightgown. Her ivory linen suit would suffice for a wedding dress.

“Our flight’s in an hour,” Kel explained as he pulled onto the freeway, “And we have reservations at The Sands. The bridal suite.”

“I’m surprised it’s not taken,” Dixie said.

“I think they have more than one. We’ll have time to check in and shower and change. I hope you don’t mind getting married at the crack of dawn, but it’s the only time the Church could work us in.”

“Church?” She’d assumed, well she wasn’t sure what she’d assumed in terms of where they’d get married.

“The Little Church of the West. It’s nice, historic register. Judy Garland got married there.”

“How did you manage that?” He’d only had ninety minutes to pack, make hotel and flight reservations, and find a church.

“Well…I actually sort of researched Vegas as an option. I checked out the hotels and everything. The lady at the church remembered me.”

She should have known; even Kel’s spontaneous suggestion for eloping was planned. “How long have you been planning this?”

He offered a grudging admission, “A while.”

“I should have known. You’ve thought of everything I assume. Flowers?”

“Hotel florist.”

“Pictures?”

“Church takes care of that.”

“Rings?”

“Bought bands along with your ring,” he said gesturing towards the engagement ring on her left hand. “They match,” he said smugly.

“Anything else…champagne?”

“Hotel again…and two tickets to Tony Bennett’s show tomorrow night. I’ll be in charge of all other entertainment.”

A deliciously warm feeling washed over her at the thought of what he might come up with. Kel might be deliberate but he was also creative. “I guess you planned for every contingency,” Dixie observed.

“All but one. You could have said ‘no’.”

She realized he’d gotten around that one as well. “I still could, you never actually asked me.”

“What?”

“You never really asked,” Dixie said wistfully.

He hadn’t. Damn. “Well…I can’t ask right now.”

“Why not?”

“We’re on the freeway. What kind of guy proposes on the freeway?” When she didn’t answer, he reached over and took her hand. “Dix, are you trying to tell me that you’re changing your mind?”

Was he looking for an out? Around the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, she assured him, “No, I’m sure. Are you?”

“I’m sure too. I’ve been sure. It just seems like, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to get things quite right. Now I feel like I’m cheating you out of something. No romantic proposal, no fairy-tale wedding. Isn’t that what most women want?"

“Some women do. And maybe in my twenties I would have. I just don’t feel that way now. It’s the being married that’s important, not the trappings.”

He nodded in complete agreement. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure.”

“Will you marry me?”

Even in the dim light of the car, her answering smile was dazzling. “On one condition, I won’t promise to obey you.”

“I’d never dream of asking.”

“Then yes, I will.”

*************

And she did. Kel had been right. The church was quaint and romantic and the ceremony, although brief, was poignant. The hotel had been perfect and the entertainment, well even mature professionals can kick over the traces and indulge themselves. Perhaps even overindulge. They did manage to tear themselves away from one another long enough to take advantage of the tickets and even to do a bit of gambling. The latter had been profitable, Kel having won heavily at blackjack, and Dixie had acquitted herself nicely at the baccarat table.

Monday morning found them back at Rampart. They’d taken an early - painfully early - flight back to LA, and after a mad dash to collect showers and clean uniforms, they made it to work with minutes to spare. Waning pandemonium greeted them. The emergency department was cluttered with firefighters, obviously waiting for news about shift mates, and harried nurses and physicians coping with the detritus of what must have been a major fire.

As Dixie took her customary place on the stool at the base station, Kel crossed to the coffeepot to pour them both a much needed cup of coffee. “Here’s to married life,” he whispered, tapping the rim of his coffee cup with hers. 

“How are we going to handle this? We never talked about-”

Any further planning was thwarted by a familiar voice, “Hey Dix, Doc.”

Kel greeted the approaching pair of paramedics. “Hi guys, looks like we missed the excitement.”

“You’re not kidding,” Roy DeSoto said.

“What happened?” Dixie asked, as Kel picked up a chart from the desk and retreated into the corner.

”What happened?” Johnny replied.  “The fire, Dix.”

Dixie looked from Johnny to Roy for clarification. “Which

“The refinery fire,” Johnny said.

“We were lucky, no major injuries. Chet and Marco got stuck for a bit, but they seem to be okay. Looks like mostly smoke inhalation and some cuts and bruises,” Roy explained. “Early’s checking them over now.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know about this Dix,” Johnny continued, “It’s been burning since yesterday and it’s been all over the news. What’ve you been up to?”

Kel peered over the top of the chart that he was pretending to read to see a rosy blush rapidly creep up his wife’s face.

From her perch on her stool, Dixie pursed her lips and surveyed the paramedics in front of her. Coming to a decision, she replied, “Well although I can’t come up with anything as news-worthy as a four-alarm fire, I did have a pretty eventful weekend myself.”

Johnny perked up immediately. Dixie rarely offered any details of her personal life. “Really?” Gage asked. “What’d you do?”

Dixie looked up at the ceiling in contemplation, then ticked the items off one by one on her fingers. “Let’s see…had dinner, got engaged, flew to Vegas, got married…and caught Tony Bennett’s show at The Sands, among other things.” She arched her eyebrows suggestively at the pair.

Mike Morton and two of the new floor nurses arrived in time to catch not only Dixie’s answer but Gage’s reply. Johnny burst out laughing.

“Married!” Johnny barked. Several other heads turned in their direction. “Good one Dix. You almost had me…” He was interrupted by Roy’s not-so-subtle nudge to his ribcage as Rampart personnel began to converge on the base station.

“She’s not laughing Johnny,” Roy said to his partner and the gathering crowd.

Indeed, she was not. “Dix, you’re not really married, are you?” Johnny asked for confirmation. He didn’t believe it, until she lifted her left hand and showed him her rings.

Johnny leaned across the desk, peering intently at her hand. “Is that real?” He rocked back on his heels and mumbled to Roy, “Is that real?”

“It looks real to me,” Roy said. And expensive. That engagement ring had set someone back more that a couple months’ salary.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Dixie asked.

“Well…yeah! Congratulations Dix!” Roy offered his felicitations as well as Morton, who seemed to be having trouble processing the news. Several other staff members crowded around to offer their best wishes as well.

Roy noticed that the only person who hadn’t was Brackett. Dixie and Brackett’s ‘relationship’ had been fodder for discussion at Rampart for years, with no clear decision as to its existence, currently or in the past. Then there had been rumors a few months back about Dixie and the new department head in Ob/Gyn, but that seemed to have come to a sudden end. Or had it? Maybe it had all been a smokescreen to throw everyone off track.

“Dix…em, I don’t mean to…who’d you marry?” Gage finally blurted.

Dead silence followed his question. The assembled throng, and it was growing rapidly, wanted to know the same thing.

“You mean you don’t know? Johnny, I thought that you had your finger on the pulse of Rampart’s gossip.”

Roy might have been listening to Johnny, but he was watching Brackett, who was doing a magnificent job of hiding a smile behind his coffee cup.

“Come on Dix,” Morton said. He had his suspicions, but he wasn’t going to voice them in case he was wrong. That could be disastrous.

The temptation to drag out her announcement was irresistible. “I don’t know….maybe I should make you guess.”

Her teasing was interrupted but a deep but affectionate voice, “Oh tell’im Dix, before he explodes.”

“Yes dear,” she said, favoring him with a devoted glance over her shoulder.

Johnny mouth dropped open as he stared at Brackett. Morton smiled knowingly.

Gage’s surprised “Doc?” overlapped with Morton’s exultant “Kel!” Mike reached out to shake Brackett’s hand.

The crowd favored Kel with delighted glances and a smattering of spontaneous applause as well. Roy beamed. This was wonderful news. He couldn’t wait to tell JoAnne; she loved happy endings.

“I don’t believe it,” someone said.

As he dropped the chart and eagerly accepted congratulations from everyone within reach, Kel asked, “What? You expected her to marry Joe Early?”

Moments before, the alternative groom had exited the treatment room in search of Gage and DeSoto. Early had wanted to let them know that Chet and Marco were alright and would be released to recuperate at home. The crowd surrounding the base station drew his attention immediately, and he arrived in time to catch the tail end of Kel’s question.

“Roy, John…Chet and Marco will be fine and ready to go home,” Early said as he wormed his way through the crowd. As he crossed between Dixie and Kel to get to the coffeepot, Joe asked, “Did I just hear a marriage announcement? Who’s my lucky lady?”

“No,” Roy tried to explain before someone offered…

“Dixie…”

“We’re married?”  Joe asked Dixie, his eyes twinkling with mischief. This should get Kel’s boxers in a wad.

“No,” Kel said, “we’re married.”

 “I don’t think so Kel, you’re not my type,” Early said.

“No,” Morton said, pointing his index fingers at Dixie and Kel, “they’re married.”

Joe looked left then right; he was bookmarked by a couple wearing identical Cheshire-cat grins.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Dixie said. “Took the plunge.”

“Tied the knot,” Kel added.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Early said.  “Congratulations.” He reached out and hugged Dixie, then Kel. “You don’t deserve her.”

“So she’s told me,” Kel replied.

“When and where?”

“Saturday in Las Vegas.”

"I need more details than that,” Joe said.

They were saved from further interrogation by the flashing of the light above the base station door signaling an incoming call.

“What you need, “Kel said as he opened the base station door, “is to get back to work.”

“What we need is a party,” Joe countered.

“Fine,” Kel said backing through to allow Dixie room to enter, “Work now, party later.” As she slide past, he murmured, “No rest for the wicked, Mrs. Brackett.”

“I certainly hope not,” she said.

Fini