The week didn't fly by, nor did it crawl. It proceeded fairly normally. Late afternoon Tuesday, at Mimi's suggestion, the parents had met and had agreed. If they let it be known that the twins and Jason were engaged, nobody would be likely to pay any attention to any minor slip-ups. In particular any accidental reference to "our husband" or "my wives" would probably be written off as due to anticipation rather than anything more significant.
Just in case, Paolo checked the records at the Church of the Placid Heart. He found dozens of recent records of engagements lasting as long as three, and in a very few cases four years. Many of these involved girls as young as 13 and boys of 14. There were probably many more, as each church kept such records internally, and there was no requirement to record an engagement with a church in the first place.
When they heard, the reaction of their friends and classmates had ranged from: "What took you so long?" to "How about that?" to "So what?" Several, of both sexes, somehow found time when the three were separated briefly to approach with a knowing leer and ask, "Have you done it yet?" The answer was always in the same vein: "We understand that not everyone thinks like we do, but we've decided that, for us, not having sex until after being married is best." Some nodded in agreement, some were astonished that they weren't taking advantage of the situation, and some walked away thinking about what they'd just heard.
Friday passed like every other day of the week. After school the girls went home to change. Jason arrived to "invite" them to dinner shortly after five, whereupon they strolled to his home. Rebecca had already left for her friend's home, excited to be going to her first sleepover. Kaho would be out late working and probably wouldn't be home till around midnight.
After dinner Akane and Sebastian said their goodnights. Since Saturday tended to be his busiest day of the week, Seb needed to be up earlier than usual, at 3:30 a.m. Akane had papers to grade and a lesson plan to work on, so she withdrew to her study. The trio retired upstairs, and thereafter silence reigned in the house.
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Genie had gone to bed early. It was probably still only around around 9 p.m. "Master Hiroshi" had worked her hard in the dojo that evening, and she was beat. Suddenly she found herself back on her feet in a guard stance in the middle of her room. It sounded as if a cat in heat were yowling loud enough to summon every tomcat in town, but it was in her head instead of outdoors. Accompanying that was wave after wave of intense emotion, crashing over her like they were trying to toss her off her feet and sweep her away. For a moment she thought she was going crazy until Hibiki's barely coherent voice exclaimed, "I'm sorry Genie! I won the rock-paper-scissors so I'm first. I forgot to block you out."
Instantly the emotional assault ceased, and Genie found herself panting in the middle of her room. Oh my God! If that was what she thought it was... There really wasn't any doubt, was there? Suddenly she remembered Mario and the alley, and ached for him to hurry back. After what just happened she didn't know how she was going to survive until he arrived, and he wasn't due for another seven weeks. Hibiki must have warned Yoko at some point because there was no second assault. Still it was two fitful hours later that she was finally able to drift off to sleep and even then only because there was an oddly comforting purring coming from somewhere.
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Hibiki's original prediction had been off, if only a little. They didn't awaken until 11 the next morning. Jason's first thought was that he could easily get used to this. The twins were warm and felt good cuddled up against him. Besides he really liked the way their hair smelled.
Without thinking he began to stroke them, only to find his hands gently slapped away. "None of that mister. I'd think you'd be worn out after last night. Well, that's what we'd say if we didn't feel the same way you do. BUT we have a schedule and, if you will, a performance to put on for the unwitting public. Don't you want to spend the day with us -- outside! There are things to see, food to eat, gifts to buy. So get your lazy butt in gear and get up."
Before he could even begin to respond, each of the twins rolled over in turn and gave him a lingering kiss. Then, giggling all the way, they sprang out of bed and began to get ready for breakfast. What could he do but follow suit? Besides, his stomach was growling, and he definitely smelled syrup. It seemed that pancakes were on the menu today, and he dearly loved pancakes. As he got himself ready, he realized that his mother had probably done that intentionally to make sure they didn't dawdle.
It was a little after noon when they finally went outside, and a fine day it was. There were lovely, fluffy clouds in an otherwise clear blue sky. It was warm but the day didn't promise to get hot. Normally it wasn't until July and August that there'd be more than a few days in a row that were truly uncomfortable.
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They had a glorious time. They didn't do anything that they hadn't before, but everything seemed to be more in focus. All in all, Jason decided that being married was going to turn out rather well.
All he heard in response to his thoughts was, "Well duh!"
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The days flew by for the twins and Jason, but plodded interminably for Genie. The first week of August a letter from Mario arrived. Once she was in her room she ripped off the sealing wax and eagerly unfolded it. There was only one word, and it looked as if it had been scrawled hurriedly. All it said was, DELAYED. After staring at it for a good minute, she realized that a consultation was in order. Fortunately her mother was home, so she strode to her office and knocked.
"Enter."
"Mother, I think there may be a situation."
"Explain."
Genie handed over the letter. Both of Miranda's eyebrows rose. Genie's sense of foreboding was getting worse by the minute. Obviously her mother knew something she didn't.
Miranda stared at Genie, willing her to leave. Clearly something was going on that she believed was none of Genie's business.
Genie stared right back, assuming, quite rightly, that anything involving Mario also involved her, at least to some degree.
Finally Miranda relented. "Oh all right you irritating wench. I guess you should know."
Tapping her cheek with her fan she mumbled, "Where to start?
"Aaaah, I'm overthinking. It's really quite simple. The Pope has placed an embargo on Venice. It's some sort of political maneuvering. The King is doing his best to stay out of it. He's having some sort of minor dispute with the French right now and doesn't want to be diverted by what is basically an internal trade war as long as it doesn't involve HIS trade. But, the King's long term interests align more with the secular world, thus he's supporting Venice from behind the scenes. Things in general have been a mess since Sixtus bought himself the Pontificate and started appointing every relative he could think of as a cardinal and granting the rest lucrative supply contracts. There's no benefit in getting rid of him; someone at least as noisome will take his place, and we understand how this one works.
"Mario has picked up some crucial items that Venice needs for, well, that part you don't need to know. Let's just say that he's smuggling items that the Pope has declared contraband into Venice. After that his plans were to return here in time for your wedding on September third."
Into the astonished silence Miranda spoke, mostly to herself, "He'd best be here on time. It's awfully hard to hold a wedding without a groom."
Genie finally found her voice and sputtered, "We..we...wedding? What wedding? What in the name of all that's holy are you talking about?"
"What do you mean Genie? I can't see how you could misinterpret what I said. The wedding where you're going to marry Mario."
Incredulity flashed across her face. "Don't tell me that you've changed your mind and you don't want to marry him!"
"Of course I want to marry him! But don't you think that a girl normally needs to be proposed to before you plan a wedding? He never said a single word to me."
Miranda opened the right, bottom drawer of her desk and withdrew a sheaf of papers. "My dear girl, are you daft? He proposed to us over six weeks ago. I must admit that it was rather sweet, him asking our permission. Not many young men do that any more."
Surprise flitted across her face and settled in an expression you could best call gobsmacked. "You don't mean to tell me that he didn't propose to you before he left? I was sure he must have when you came home that night with your clothes mussed and the trio grinning their heads off.
Genie's face took on a reddish hue. "Oh...that....I...ah...thought you hadn't noticed."
Miranda wagged a finger at her daughter. "Me? Not notice something. You are daft. Of course I noticed. How could I not?
I must admit that I took a great deal of pleasure in seeing his look of total frustration when he spun around and left." Her expression changed to a knowing leer. "I suppose that the trio must have stopped you before you got all that far."
Genie's blush reached new heights. She squatted and buried her face in her knees.
Miranda continued in an analytical tone, "The physical side of a relationship is very important you know. More so in the beginning, as you're usually still getting to know each other, though the need for some sort of physical intimacy rarely disappears entirely.
"Just make sure that you don't become overly-enthusiastic and rip his clothes off the moment he returns. I'd hate to have to try to explain scratches when he's having his fittings."
Genie, who had been in the process of standing, once more sank to her knees. She didn't surface for several minutes, during which Miranda worked through some papers that she'd been meaning to read.
When Genie showed signs of recovering Miranda said, "Your first fitting for your dress will be in three days. Your father has already arranged for the reception hall. We won't have much time to fit Mario's clothes, but then he's handsome enough that he'll look good in almost anything."
Genie realized that her assessment of her mother months ago had been correct. "Oni" fit her exceedingly well.
Neverthless she stood and strode closer to her mother's desk. "I'm not entirely sure whether I want to hug you or throw you across the room. Until I decide, I'll be in my room. Good evening to you Mother."
After she'd left and closed the door Miranda muttered to herself, "My. Such an excitable girl." She resumed plowing through her paperwork. It seemed that no matter what one did, there was always more paperwork than there was time to deal with it.