My Beautiful Wife

1969, 18 and at a New Year's party. She was 16, the sister of one of my school friends. Midnight, yelling, and I kissed her, not some half assed kiss, I kissed her in the way that you kiss a girl you want to go a lot further with. I had a crush on her, my friend brought her to the party for me. That night I kissed the girl I was in love with, the girl whose name was on my binder, in ink. I was not going to let go.

After that kiss I told her I wanted her to be my girlfriend and her brother had already agreed. She said something, but I cut her off, her brother had agreed so there wasn't anymore to say. She was now my girlfriend, hold my hand, let me kiss her, cop a feel, bring me a glass of water girlfriend. This was fir real, not some kid thing, I was going to college after high school and I wasn't going without her being my girlfriend. I loved her, didn't she understand that?

The word was put out, she had to have me for Sunday lunch with the family and she cooked like all Italian girls did when the boyfriend comes to Sunday lunch. The conversation with her father in his den was about intentions, he had heard about me kissing her on New Year's Eve. She was as good as married, I did understand that? Lunch was at the hug table, the grandmother was there, she served and placed my plate. Conversation was between her father, her brothers and me. Women listened.

The date was set for late June, she had better not be in the family way. The months between January and June went by fast, the wedding was in the big church, guests came from everywhere, first granddaughter to get married. The reception at the country club, live band, sit down dinner and dance. TV reporter for the social section, big wedding announcement in the Sunday paper. I was married, she was married.

Honeymoon was a week cruise to the islands in the Caribbean. First night alone. She put on this lace nightgown, lace underwear, hair held up in a bun. She laid back, I took her underwear off, she closed her eyes. I looked at this girl, so frightened her lip was bleeding, laying naked on a bed on a cruise ship. This was my wife. I leaned over, kissed her cheek, covered her up and turned off the light and slept on a blanket on the floor.

My wife wasn't ready to receive me until she was 19. And then with trepidation. Her grandmother suggested that I was impotent as she had not produced a child, something that didn't happen until she was 23. She forgave me for that kiss, I did not realize that kissing an Italian girl in public was declaring your intentions to get married. Good thing I picked well, Italian girls make good wives, and once initiated they make sure you stay in love with them.

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