ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR…

LYDIA ELAINE CAMPBELL…

ROGER…MEDDOWS TAYLOR…

LYDIA ELAINE…CAMPBELL..

ROGER…MEDDOWS TAYLOR.

LYDIA…ELAINE CAMPBELL

 I looked at it what seemed to be a thousand times. The clock ticked mercilessly on the wall: 10:13 AM. I looked up at it and then behind me to the security officer sitting behind the partition in the dingy room. He yawned and adjusted the handcuffs at the side of his pants. I looked at Roger next. God, he looked good today in his white blazer and his black tie. He wore those gorgeous aviator sunglasses that I loved so dearly. The rose colored lenses fit him so well. After all, he needed to see this paper this morning. Recently, Roger cut off most of that beautiful blond hair. It touched the base of his neck now and while I nearly had a coronary at first, I had grown used to his new look and thought it suited him quite well. He looked so distinguished and sexy today. Roger smiled that huge, priceless, smile at me. I don’t know what it was but his teeth were exceptionally white, exceptionally perfect. He had just slapped his signature on the appropriate line and looked to me. “Go ahead.” he tilted his head toward the paper and handed me the pen. I stared at him for a moment, those big blue eyes glowin’. He looked so very happy.

 “Right here, Miss Campbell.” the man in the brown suit tapped at a black line. I looked to him and then to the paper:

 ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR:        7/26/1949      Age: 28

MOTHER: WINNIFRED TAYLOR 

FATHER: MICHAEL TAYLOR

 LYDIA ELAINE CAMPBELL:          10/15/1949      Age: 28

MOTHER: LENORA “ELLIE” CAMPBELL

FATHER: GRISHAM CAMPBELL

 The clock seemed to tick even louder and there was a murmur of conversation and coughing that could be heard outside the clouded glass of the door. I looked back at the paper, pen still in hand. I could hear the tone of an elevator outside the door. I looked back to the man in the brown suit and to Roger again. He shook his head at me, smiling again. 

 “Lyd…I don’t mean to…hurry you or nothin’. But….we gotta’ catch a plane in a half-hour.” Roger whispered to me. I shot eyes toward him with a rather horrified look on my face. Hell! We were twenty minutes from the airport! I looked down to the paper again:

 Print Full Legal Name:  ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR

Signature: ROGER TAYLOR

 Print Full Legal Name: LYDIA ELAINE CAMPBELL

Signature:_________________________________

 I clicked the pen, printed my legal name, dated it and then swallowed as I stared at the next lined. I took a nervous breath and could feel Roger’s warm fingers at the base of my neck. It made me calm myself slightly.

 “Now, here Miss Campbell. Right here on this line. Just below Mr. Taylor’s signature.” The man in the brown suit tapped to the next line and smiled. I took a deep breath and continued staring down the next line, hoping that maybe it would fill itself out or disappear entirely. This was it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, or jumping into a pool of cool water all at once…quick and minimally painful. I could feel my hand tremble and Roger’s palm move to the middle of my back. I exhaled audibly and closed my eyes; attempting to swallow my cottonmouth. And then…in one quick motion as fast as I possibly could…I signed it…

 LYDIA…TAYLOR. I had barely lifted the pen from the paper when the court magistrate quickly took the license and slapped a seal on it. The sound of the stamp slamming into the paper startled me, causing me to jump as it left behind it’s red ink in a large circle. He blew a couple quick puffs of air on it to dry the ink and then pressed a notary sticker on it. Lastly, he took his black fountain pen and both signed and dated it. It was official now.  

 “There we are!” The magistrate held the paper up, fanning it to dry the ink from his pen. On this, February 20th at 10:23 AM, on behalf of the city of London, I officially declare you Mr. and Mrs. Roger Taylor. Congratulations!” The magistrate grinned. “Now, Mrs. Taylor…you’ll need a copy of this and a copy of this court document to board your plane. Your passport still reads Campbell but not to worry, as long as you have this you’ll have no trouble in your travels. Thank you and please pay the secretary at the front and she will make a copy of the certificate for your permanent file in the event you need to access it. It’s two pounds for each additional copy and you’ll need one for your bank, and be sure to get a copy along with the name change kit, which will make the process more streamlined for you Mrs. Taylor.  I wish you both a fantastic day! If you will excuse me, I need to tend to a legal matter regarding a land deed.” He gave Roger and I a nod and handed over the official certificate of marriage to Roger.

 I looked over to Roger and smiled knowing good and well we didn't have a moment to linger. We turned away from the magistrate’s pedestal and headed toward the door. We took our coats from the hooks on the wall beside the door and bundled ourselves up. We had to pay for this thing, and get to the airport. We would get our copies or whatever later. I thanked the magistrate as did Roger and we made our way out the door from which we had come. My heels resonated against the floor in the large, open rotunda, it's echo hitting the walls in all directions.

 "I think we go over there to records." I said to Roger, pointing in front of him.

 "Oh yeah, that's it. It's a good thing there's no line! Come on!" He took my hand and we scurried quickly over to the small counter. A woman looked up behind the frosted glass and slid the window open.

 “Can I help you?” she asked, removing her glasses.

 “Yes, we need to pay for this and for the time being we need one copy and a copy of this court document as well.” Roger said, handing over the marriage certificate and the other court document.

 ”Ah, very well.” The woman said reaching up to Roger and taking all the papers from him. I crossed my fingers and rested my hands on the ledge of the window area as she slapped yet another stamp on our marriage certificate and proceeded to stamp something else onto the court document. “Aww, you got married today!” she exclaimed. Roger and I smiled at her and I gave her a nod.

 “Yes…yes we did.” I told her, glancing over at Roger again.

 “Congratulations! Let me get you a copy of your license and this court documentation. I’ll only be but a moment.”

 “Thank you.” Roger told her and turned to face me. “We’re gonna’ have to hurry once we get what we need. I wish we didn’t have to go through security and we’re gonna’ have to get someone to valet the car. Shit, Lyd. We have…well hell…we’re gonna’ be late. Let’s just leave it at that.” Roger said, looking down at his watch.

 “Yeah, yeah, we are.” I said, peering into the office area to see if the woman who was helping us was headed back our way. Much to my approval, she was.

 “Here we are! That will be seventy-five pounds and here are your copies and this packet which is a name changing kit for the new Mrs.!” The woman giggled. I closed my eyes, smiled slightly and bobbed my head. Roger took the papers from her quickly and handed them to me so he could pay her. I looked at the marriage certificate as Roger handed the bills over to her:

 ON THIS 20TH DAY OF FEBRUARY THE UNION OF ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR AND LYDIA ELAINE CAMPBELL IS HEREBY WITNESSED AND DECLARED LEGAL UNDER THE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE ROYAL ENGLISH COUNCIL OF COURTS.

 I read it to myself and looked at where Roger, the judge and myself had signed below.

 “Lyd! Lyd, let’s go!” I looked up quickly, snapping out of my trance and making eye contact with Roger.

 “Huh? Oh, oh yeah…yeah okay. C’mon!”  I shook my head and shoved the certificate copy and the court document copies in my purse. Roger thanked the woman who had helped us and we hurried to the front doors of the courthouse. I grabbed Roger’s hand as we plowed through the front doors and into the cold, London morning. We rushed down the front steps and hurriedly got into the car. Roger immediately got on the gas as we merged into traffic. “Shit, that took longer than I thought. They promised us we would be in and out in less than twenty minutes!” I said reaching for my seatbelt.

 “God, I know! They shoulda’ told us we needed a hundred copies of everything to get through the airport! You got your passport, right? Last I saw it was on the dresser.” Roger asked me.

 “Yeah, I got it here.” I couldn’t have agreed more with him. That extra step to get these copies took us an additional ten minutes that we didn’t have.

 “Damn…driver! Lay on the horn. That dumbarse is takin’ up two lanes!” I told Roger as the stupid truck in front of us consumed both the turn lane that we needed and the straight away lane.

 “See, that’s just what I was thinkin’ too!” Roger answered me horning the guts out of this moron. We needed the lane he was partially in to merge onto the freeway. The airport exit was three exits away once we got out of the city. “Move, move, MOVE!” Roger laid on the horn again, the truck finally moving out of the turn lane we needed. Roger got on the gas again and we were finally out of this bullshit congestion and headed toward the freeway. I shivered a little as our car had cooled off by the time we had gotten out of the court facility. “You cold?” Roger asked me, turning up the heat higher on the knob before him.

 “Yeah, a little.” I said, reaching into my coat pocket for my gloves.

 “Don’t worry, the plane will be warm I’m sure.” Roger promised me. I stared straight ahead as I pulled my gloves over my hands. He glanced at me a couple times as I watched the road before us. We were up to highway speed and our exit would be coming up shortly. “Hey…” Roger began as I watched a string of cars take the upcoming exit. I looked to him. “…you look really pretty today.” I gave him a soft smile and shifted my attention back to the road before me. I was wearing the white Burberry trench and classic print gloves that Roger had gotten for me this past Christmas. Naturally, my scarf matched as well. Roger was going well over the speed limit but at this point neither of us cared because we were already fifteen minutes late. Heathrow was a busy airport and we were beginning to wonder whether or not they would hold this plane for us.

We took our exit and was immediately spit out into three lanes of traffic. Unfortunately, we had to work our way to the leftmost lane as that was the lane for airport traffic. I squirmed around and looked to my left. “You’re clear in this lane if you go now and get on it.” I assured him.

 “Okay, we’re goin’ then.” And just like that, we aggressively crossed all three lanes only to get in the slowest lane of all: the lane that would ultimately spit us out into the airport entrance lanes. “This is bullshit.” Roger sighed, letting his head hit the back of the seat. I reached over and took his hand.

 “I know. As we get closer just get in the valet lane. We’ll stop at the entrance and then they can take the car to the private lot in the back. You know the valet lane won’t be nearly as crowded as the public parking lane.” I assured him. Roger nodded his head. Slowly, we made out way to the valet lane. Once we had entered we traveled much faster toward the front entrance of Heathrow. It had taken us at least seven minutes to work our way over to the valet lane. Now, there were only a dozen or so cars in front of us.

 “Won’t be long now.” Roger said as we moved along behind the other cars. I leaned over and looked at Roger’s watch: 11:17. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! The plane was supposed to have left at 10:45! After what felt like ages, Roger and I finally were up to the front of the airport and pulled to the side where the sign reading: VALET stood. “Here comes a guy! Here comes a guy! Let’s get out!” Roger said popping the trunk. I don’t think I had every gotten out of a trunk faster as I slung my handbag on my shoulder. “Lyd, you get as much luggage as you can and I’ll get the rest!” Roger called to me as rushed to the back. Fortunately, a gentleman came over to the car.

 “Good morning, miss! May I help you with your bags?” he asked kindly.

 “YES!” I answered. “Roger! I got the luggage taken care of!” I yelled back to him as he opened the door. The cold, February draft blew through me as I shivered again. I started throwing things out of our trunk for the gentleman to load up.

 “Do you have your flight information?” the man asked.

 “Yes, yes…he has it. Roger! Give him the boarding passes!” I called him as I continued to flip things out of the trunk. I saw Roger hand the valet attendant a bill, hell neither of us knew how much it was…and it didn’t matter. We had a fucking plane to catch. Roger waved to the man who would take our car away and reached into the inside pocket of his coat to pull out our boarding passes. The attendant punched our passes and handed them back to Roger.

 “I see that you are the commuter on the private runway. I’ll see to it that your luggage is delivered.” He tilted his hat toward us.

 “Thank you!” I said turning to take off through the front doors. I reached behind me for Roger’s hand.

 “Wait! Wait! Miss! Sir! You gotta’ go through customs and security! You won’t get to the terminal without a checkpoint!” the attendant called. I groaned and pulled Roger behind me. Once we had slammed through the front doors of Heathrow I realized I had a problem. I stopped and removed my Louboutins and, with my shoes in my right hand and Roger in my left; we booked it. We ran to the customs and security checkpoint.

 “Oh shit! Shit! Roger…I need a cigarette.” I told him as I huffed and puffed.

 “Yeah…” he huffed. “…me too…” I reached into my handbag and dug out my passport as the security officer pulled his portable detection meter over me.

 “Put your arms out please, miss.” He told me. I did so and he continued to scan me. “All clear, go ahead.” He said, preceding to do the same thing to Roger. I scurried to the next counter, nearly dropping everything.

 “Hi!, Hi…here’s my…passport.” I handed it over as I fumbled with my purse, the papers, everything. God, I was a wreck!

 “Hello” the woman excitedly greeted me, taking my passport. She stamped it. “Oh! Going to out of the country, I see!” she said stamping my passport.

 “Yes, yes…” I answered her. She turned the page over in my passport book and stamped it again.

 “I’ll need to see your ID please.” She said. I awkwardly dug it out, practically ripping apart the stupid copies they had given us at the courthouse.

 “Here, Lyd. Give that stuff to me.” Roger said, helping me rummage through my bag.

 “There ya’ go.” I said slinging my ID onto the counter. Roger was doing the same after helping me; digging into his coat pocket for his passport and his ID.

 “Oh, I guess I need to show you this too?” I said shoving the copy of our marriage license and the court documents in front of the woman.

 “Awww! You got married today!” she said, looking at my birthdate on my passport, my ID and the marriage certificate. She shoved it all back to me and moved on to Roger’s items, stamping what she needed accordingly.  “You are all set Mr. and Mrs. Taylor! Enjoy your trip. Honeymoon?” she asked, all bright eyed.

 “No, no. No. This is business.” I said smiling at her and shoving everything back into my handbag. Roger smiled her way as well.

“This is business and a kinda’ holiday. So, both I suppose!” Roger told her. I reached for Roger’s hand to prepare him to take off again for the terminal gate.

 “Well…congratulations!” the woman yelled to us as we took off.

 “Yeah, yeah…” I called as Roger and I darted like crazy people down the terminal.