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Dale had insisted they honeymoon in Niagara Falls.
“They call it ‘The Honeymoon Capital of the World,’” he’d said. “It’s tradition. Far be it from me to defy tradition.”
Nearly every other detail of the wedding was left to Audrey’s jurisdiction. Dale insisted she have the wedding she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl. She countered that she’d be happy to marry him in the local courthouse as long as she got to walk out of there as Mrs. Dale Cooper, but there was no denying the day had been close to perfect. No wedding scene in any movie she’d watched came close to the real thing.
She remembers being eight years old, eyes glued to the screen as she watched Princess Diana marry Prince Charles. Audrey couldn’t help but picture herself dressed in white someday, yards of train and veil trailing romantically behind her. She knew half the world wouldn’t be tuning in on their television sets to watch her exchange vows someday, but she still wished for a wedding just as spellbinding.
When she walked down the aisle and first caught sight of Dale, tears welling in his eyes, she knew it would be.
He’d done everything in his power to make sure the day was perfect for Audrey. But when it came to the honeymoon, there was only one thing Dale had to say: “Niagara Falls or bust.”
Dale is nothing if not a man of tradition. Audrey realized this shortly after they first met, but she didn’t know the full extent of it until their wedding. He’d insisted they not see each other the morning of, and gifted her with a blue garter as a subtle hint that she should follow through with the old “something borrowed, something new” superstition. Audrey was happy to oblige, but Niagara Falls gave her pause. She’d been there more than once with her family, and the wonder of watching mass amounts of water rush over a cliff wears off after the first or second time.
“Audrey, I’ve traveled a great deal in my time. I’ve seen monuments to heroes of all kinds, and natural wonders that are nothing short of miraculous. But somehow I’ve never gotten to see the majesty that is Niagara Falls with my own two eyes,” Dale had said, a hazy smile on his face as he stared into the distance. She’d taken his face in her hands, kissed him, and said yes, they’d go to Niagara Falls.
The charms of Dale Cooper are relentless. It’s difficult to say no to a man with the charisma of Cary Grant who’s love for you rivals that of Orpheus for Eurydice.
That’s how Audrey Horne finds herself in the backseat of a cab on her way to Niagara Falls, fingers entwined with her newly minted husband’s. Her head rests on his shoulder, jostling every time they hit a bump in the road. He kisses her forehead periodically, lips lingering on her skin, eyes closed for a few seconds afterwards before fluttering open again.
“I just want to make sure this is real. That you’re real,” he whispers against her hair. She understands. After everything they’ve been through, after all they’ve seen and done...
But all of that’s behind them now, she reminds herself. She’s on her way to honeymoon with a man who taught her that love like this could exist, that it isn’t just a myth people write about in vain.
“I’m real,” she says, lifting his knuckles to hers and brushing a whisper of a kiss against them. She lifts her head off his shoulder so she can look at him.
“This—” she continues, gesturing between them, “is real. We’re Mr. and Mrs. Dale Cooper.” She can’t help but give in to the smile that takes over her face, and neither can Dale. He’s glowing—practically incandescent—and Audrey would pay all the money in the world to see him stay like that forever.
“Audrey, are you familiar with the concept of binary stars?” he says softly, green eyes fixed on her blue.
She shakes her head no; she’s always had more of a mind for business than science.
“A binary system is one in which two stars orbit around a common centre of mass. They’re gravitationally bound to one another.”
Audrey laughs, immediately understanding. “We’re those two stars, you and I,” she says, and Dale nods. He leans in closer, breath tickling her face. His lips graze her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks.
“Indeed we are.”
___
The closer they get, the more Dale fidgets with anticipation. He’s like a little boy on Christmas morning, Audrey thinks, unable to rest until he tears into the presents waiting for him. She’d suggested they head to their hotel room and see the falls the following day, but Dale wasn’t as keen on the idea.
“As eager as I am to consummate our marriage, I am but one percent more eager to finally see the beauty of the falls,” he’d said. Audrey could tell she wasn’t going to win that one either.
When they arrive Dale fishes a wad of cash out of his pocket, not bothering to count it in his eagerness. “This is one of the more pleasant cab rides I’ve had in my day,” he says, handing it to the driver. “There’s nothing quite like Canadian hospitality. When I was living in Philadelphia I doubt a cab driver usually said more than two words to me.”
The cab driver accepts the money, a bemused look on his face. Audrey stifles a giggle. He really hadn’t said hardly anything on the drive, but Dale is too caught up in his enthusiasm to remember. He takes Audrey’s hand and the two of them disembark from the taxi. Before they can even see the falls she hears the frantic cascading of water and smells its lush, earthy fragrance.
Dale turns to look at her, taking her other hand in his as well. “Audrey, prepare yourself. You are about to see a grown man cry.”
And cry he does. Not like when he saw her walk down the aisle, with tears trailing unabashedly down his cheeks. But there’s an unmistakeable misting in his eyes when he finally sees Niagara Falls, gushing with rampant force, lit up in fluorescent hues. Bright blue bleeds into red and fades into yellow, more captivating than Audrey previously remembered it to be. Come to think of it, she’d never once seen it at night.
“It’s really something, huh?” she says, arms encircling her husband from behind, her cheek resting against the sturdy material of his trench coat. She thinks to herself that there’s no place she’d rather be than reveling in the warmth of Dale, the two of them bathed in the lights of Niagara Falls.
“That it is,” he exhales, eyes still fixed on the view before them.
“Is it everything you always hoped it would be?”
“Better. I always knew I’d see this view someday, but I never pictured I would have the most beautiful and intelligent woman in the world by my side.”
A blush rises in Audrey’s cheeks. It doesn’t matter how many times he compliments her; it still flusters her. She’s had no shortage of men coming on to her since she was fourteen years old, but something about the words coming out of Dale’s mouth melts her every time.
“Niagara Falls has been the honeymoon capital of the world for almost two hundred years. Ever since Theodosia and Joseph Alston stopped to see the cataracts of Niagara on their bridal tour and made it fashionable.”
“Is there anything you don’t know?” It’s one of the things she loves most about Dale. He seems to be a walking conduit for the entire history of humankind and the secrets of the universe.
“Yes, unfortunately, but I’m working on it.”
If there’s anyone who could uncover every mystery before he dies, it’s Dale Cooper.
“Well, that’ll just have to wait,” she says, turning him towards her. She places a ghost of a kiss on his lips, barely enough to taste him.
“Hm, I think it will,” he murmurs, attention now diverted. He eyes her mouth from beneath heavy lids, his thumb running absentmindedly over her lower lip. Wispy clouds of fog form in the night air whenever he exhales, the evening temperature characteristically Canadian. When he closes the gap between them his lips are warm against hers, an infusion of heat amidst the cold. Her fingertips tangle in his hair, and she pulls him closer against her. She savors the feeling of his hands, steadfast and certain in every way. This will never get old, the way he holds her. Fifty years could pass and she’d still relish the way his hands speak volumes against her waist.
A loud, strange noise startles them both apart. Almost immediately they find the source: champagne-colored fireworks, crackling magnificently across a velvet sky.
“Fireworks scared me as a little girl,” Audrey laughs. Her skin still sparks and crackles like fireworks underneath where Dale’s hands linger.
“And now?”
“Not now. I have you to protect me.”
Dale rests his forehead against Audrey’s, and she can feel the steady thrum of his pulse pick up as she kisses him once more. His fingertips trail down her arms and eventually meet her own, intertwining clumsily. Fireworks continue to pop and fizz in their ears, but Dale is much too distracted now to pay them any mind.
When they break apart, Audrey notices her lipstick stained against Dale’s mouth. His hair, normally gelled to perfection, is tousled from a combination of the lively reception and all the kissing that followed. He’s still dressed in his wedding clothes, sans jacket and tie, a couple of shirt buttons undone. It’s endearing to see her put-together husband a little ruffled for once.
“That’s a terrific shade on you,” she says, wiping away at the transferred lipstick. “We’ll have to get you a tube.”
Dale chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I much prefer it applied this way.”
Audrey presses her lips to his again. “Me too.”
There are plenty of other newlywed couples strolling around the falls, taking in the fireworks and each other, but to Audrey the world has faded to black. The only thing left is the curve of Dale’s mouth against hers, and the way he sighs against her lips before finding them again. And again. And again.