Now and Forever 💞Chapter 4💞 The Beginning of Forever

~Chapter 4~

The Beginning of Forever

   He needn't have worried.
The next free day he had,  the young officer dressed in his Sunday best and walked over to Madame Deroulard's home to ask if Virginie might like to take a walk.  It was a fairly long distance but that gave Hercule Poirot time to think of how he would pose the question.
"Oh, mon Dieu!"  Poirot chastised himself under his breath as he'd made his way to the home of the woman he would (courage prevailing)  propose to.   "I am not turning myself in for a crime. I am going to ask the woman I love if she will marry me."  And yet,  for maybe half a second,  Hercule wondered if it wouldn't be easier to confess to a crime than to risk rejection from the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with that he found himself wondering what their first child would look like.
  FINALLY at the house,  he was welcomed by Hilde,  who'd inquired if he'd like a cup of coffee as she lead him to the parlor, where Madame Deroulard listened to her music he could just hear.
"Will it help me think?"  Poirot found himself asking.
"Pardon?  Monsieur Poirot,  are you alright?"  the middle aged house-keeper  puzzled, when they stopped, just inside the doorway of the parlor.
Hercule Poirot chuckled at his own anxiousness.  "Oui. I am sorry, Hilde. Do not listen to me at the moment. I am the basket of nerves."
"Then come and talk to me, Monsieur."  Madame Deroulard said in a voice that told Poirot she was friendly, even if she sounded commanding. "Virginie is at the market.  I wanted Hilde to make some of her delicious potato salad for dinner and we are all out of potatoes. That, and a few other things.  But she's been gone for ten minutes or more. She should be back soon."
Poirot obeyed, only because he was too antsy to think.  And because he did not want to get on this woman's bad side.
"Before you sit down, young man, please turn off the phonograph. I like to be able to hear myself think when I'm talking to people."
Going to the phonograph player, Poirot carefully lifted the arm so's not to scratch the phonograph record and moved it to its arm rest and then sat down in the chair across from the matriarch, who was deftly knitting.  Her fingers moved with such skill without her even looking down. "I could tell you were nervous, Monsieur Poirot, as soon as I heard you. Am I to assume that you will be asking my niece the big question today?"
"Right now, Madame, I am thankful I can remember my name.  On the way over, I wondered if I would be this nervous if I was on my way to the gallows." Poirot said, wiping his sweaty palms together in an effort to dry them.
"What did you decide?"  the woman queried, with a smile in her voice.
"I am still not certain."   Poirot confessed.
"Well, fear not, young man. You are not going to the gallows. Unless you make ME angry.  Then you'll wish you had that mercy."
Poirot wasn't sure what to say until he glanced at the woman and saw her smirk.  "Do you know...?"   Poirot began to ask when he heard another voice in the hall. Virginie was home.  His pulse quickened but he was sure his brain had shut down.  On impulse, he checked his trouser pocket for the ring.  It wasn't THE ring. That he would purchase IF Virginie said yes.  This ring was his mother's.  It was willed to his sister, of course, but when Hercule realized he wanted to ask Virginie to marry him, he asked if he could borrow it, just til he could buy a proper engagement ring, Adelise (Ada for short)  couldn't be happier to share it.
"Let me know what she says!"  Adelise made her little brother promise.
"If she says yes, you will hear me."   Poirot recalled himself telling his sister.
"And ...if she says no?"
He could only shrug.   He didn't want to think of that possibility, but the very fear of being turned down nearly kept him from coming to the house at all. As much as he feared that outcome,  Hercule Poirot knew he would not be able to look himself in the mirror if he backed out and lost the woman he loved to another man.  Strange as it seemed, even a "NO" was better than not knowing,  because fear kept him from asking.
"Calm down, young man,"  Madame Deroulard counselled. "before you give yourself a heart attack.  Relax and remember why you are here.  Do you love my niece? "
"Yes, madame," Hercule Poirot informed the spunky old woman. "Very much."
"I thought as much. You are a police officer. Surely that is scarier, some days, than this situation."  The formidable dame set aside her knitting to concentrate her attention on the young man sitting across from her;  dim as he was to her fading vision. " Don't be so afraid of the worst that could happen that you don't give yourself a chance to enjoy the best that also could happen.  Sentimental sugar but it makes...enough sense."
What she said made perfect sense.  The young officer only prayed her could get his body to act on what his mind was conjuring.  And when Virginie appeared in the room, he knew it would not be a problem.  He immediately stood upon seeing her.
"Hercule.  Hilde said you were here.  Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived.  I had a few..."
"Your aunt,  she told me about Hilde's potato salad.  A dinner is not the same without the tasty appetizer."
"It's true.  And we were low on the main ingredient."
"So all is well now?"  Poirot asked.
"Apart from having to wait for a day to enjoy it,  we will live."
"Not too warmly, however, if you two do not leave so I can get my knitting done.  I want to get these patches knitted and put together by THIS Winter, my girl.  Now, young man, please put the phonograph on again and you kids can scoot."
Happily, Poirot did as instructed and the two left the parlor. In the hall,  he inquired if Virginie was busy right then, or could they take a walk?
"Hilde never wants me in the kitchen when she's preparing a meal and it's too nice to be stuck inside.  So yes,  Hercule,  I would very much enjoy a walk.  The park is nice. I heard two squirrels arguing on the way home.  Maybe we can eavesdrop if they're still at it."
The idea of the park was lovely but Poirot couldn't care less about what little furry things were quibbling about.   "Ah, oui. A nasty divorce and the battle for custody  of the acorns. "  The comment wasn't intended to be funny, but Poirot couldn't help but wonder what squirrels could have to argue about.
Virginie covered her mouth but still couldn't stifle a laugh. She stopped laughing and then began again, as soon as they got near the park and Virginie pointed to the tree where she saw the feuding squirrels. "They must've made up."
"Still,  mon cher Virginie, I don't want to argue over  the acorns.  I want to share them."
"Pardon?" Virginie tilted her head slightly toward her right shoulder.
Hand in hand, Poirot lead them to a park bench.
"Are you alright, Hercule?  You've gone pale."
"It is the nerves."  Poirot admitted, wiping his sweaty hands with a handkerchief he took out of his right hand vest  pocket. "I need to ask you the most important question."  He surveyed the area and saw that there weren't too many people about.  So he took from his lower pocket a white linen cloth ( was nearly half a size larger than the handkerchief he used to wipe his nerve-sweaty hands) , and set the white linen napkin on the ground, and knelt on it, taking the woman's right as it was offered.   "Virginie, I would be the most honored man in Belgium, if not the the world,  if you would be my wife."
Matching the man's proposal with a unique response of her own,  Virginie Mesnard replied,  "And I would be most honored woman  to have you as a husband. Yes, Hercule.  I will marry you."
Hercule Poirot's brown eyes shone. Standing up, he reached into his right trouser pocket and took out the small case that contained the ring.   His sister loaned him her own ring box, on the strict condition that he return it.
"This ring, it belonged to my mother,"  Poirot explained,  slipping the ring onto Virginie's finger.  "It was passed down to my sister.  Would you like to accompany me when we return the ring. That is, once I purchase ..."
"Hercule,"  Virginie said, admiring her engagement ring. "I don't want you to be putting yourself in the poorhouse. Would your sister mind if I kept the ring until you saved up for our ring. This is fine. It's beautiful .  Two hearts connected by a diamond. It's lovely! And it fits."
Poirot smiled, "I can....that is, we can ask her together."
And so they did.  First things first, though,  they returned to Virginie's home and shared the news with Madame Deroulard and Hilde, who were both delighted. By the time  Hercule left the house after dinner, the women were in full planning mode.
At home, he called his sister, shared the joyous news  and asked permission to keep the ring a little longer.  "Virginie loves the ring and it will give me time to ..."
"Keep it, Hercule,"  his sister said.
"But Mama, she gave it..."
"As a keepsake. But I'm  already married. All it does is sit in a jewelry box on my dresser . I am certain she would be happier if your wife would wear the ring that was given to her for the same reason. Speaking of which,  when is the happy day?"
Poirot's mind was still in a state of happy befuddlment. "That, I do not know yet. When I left Virginie's home, she, her aunt and their house-keeper, they were making plans."
"Just make sure YOU have a say,  little brother.  Women are notorious planners when it comes to weddings.  I should know. By the time we get through with all the planning and deciding and budgeting ,  the last person to fit in is the poor husband. "So? When do I get to  meet this lady love of yours so I can help her put you in the poor house?"
"Pardon?"
"It's a JOKE, baby brother.  Good heavens, you're going to have to relax or you'll die of a heart attack when your wife tells you you're going to be a father."
Right this minute, it was all Hercule could do, to deal with the wedding, let alone cope with impending fatherhood.  And just this morning, he was worried about how he'd cope if Virginie said no.
It would be another week before Poirot introduced his wife-to-be to his older sister. Adelise (Addy to her friends)  and Virginie hit it off right away and Addy made Virginie feel totally at ease about wearing her mother's wedding ring.   By this time,  Virginie settled her future husband's nerves by letting him know that she wanted a small wedding with friends and family.
"I heard my aunt and Hilde going on about renting the church and the banquet hall and all the decorating.  Hilde even joked about writing to the Vatican and requesting St. Peter's Bascilica .  That's when I knew things were going overboard."
"The IMPORTANT thing,"  Addy spoke up, as the three talked over coffee and scones.  "is what the day is about. The two of you.  The whole social calendar thing is for people who have money to burn.  And even then, it doesn't come down to much if those poor souls forget why they're getting married, or want to forget why. That's even worse."
"Adelise,"  Virginie spoke up while the two tended to the dishes as the visit wound down.
"Addy,"  Adelise corrected. "After all, we are going to be family and I already think of you as a friend."
"Addy,"  Virginie repeated by way of a reminder. "I feel the same,"  She talked while drying cutlery and plates that were handed to her.   "We've known each other all of ten minutes, in the grand scheme of things but I believe we can be great friends.  That said,  I was wondering if you, as a married woman, would be willing to help me with the.. uh... well, the wedding planning.  I'm at sixes and sevens with all of it;  hoping that your brother will just set a ladder against my window one night and we can take a train to...wherever."
Addy broke out in giggles,  very nearly toppling a coffee cup with its saucer.   "Not likely.  My brother and heights are not on friendly terms."  Poirot's sister informed her future sister-in-law as she put away the dishes and Virginie found where to return the cleaned cutlery.
Addy smiled,  her eyes, like that of her little brother, were vivid brown.   "Of course I'll help you!  I THINK I know my baby brother enough but people change.  And you have made the biggest change in him.  For the better."
"I can't imagine Hercule having any bad traits to change,"  Virginie said, said, feeling somewhat apprehensive.  After all,  sisters knew ..things.
The two women stood at the counter after all the dishes were put away and the sink and counter were clean.   "Nothing BAD. Just ...well, dad was very proper about things. Didn't show a lot of emotion or overt expressions of approval for his kids. He loved us, in his own way.  Still, it was God's knowledge to find out what that that way was.
As a boy,  Hercule did everything he could think of, to win his dad's approval. He's one of three boys. Our other two brothers followed in dad's steps as far as work, for a while anyway.  Apart from their career paths, though,  Jules  and Maxime did their own thing in their own time.  They gave up trying to penetrate the emotional brick wall  that was the veneer of Giles Louis Poirot."
Adelise sighed with empathy. "Can't say that I blamed them.  Dad was a little more demonstrative with us girls than he was with his boys. No doubt, he was influenced by the way he was raised.  C'est la vie,"  she said with a tone of thoughtfulness. Wishful thinking.  " In any case,  I believe it was Hercule's attempts to discover what our father would approve that initiated his love of detective work.  He loves a mystery."
"I am so sorry to hear that. The father,  as the head of the household, needs to be the best example for his sons.  An example his boys would want to follow OUT of love, not in order to earn that love."  Virginie said.  "I don't remember my parents so much. They died when I was a young girl. I've been living with my mother's sister for some time.  However, I do recall my father fussed over me and loved his wife, my mother. Hercule has been very kind to my aunt.  It was the situation with my cousin, Paul Deroulard that brought Hercule into our lives."
"Did my brother solve the case?"
   Virginie sighed and yet a brief smile found its way across her lips. "He thought he had, and then... complications set in.  Those in power say one thing,  Hercule had to defer to them.  In the end, the so-called entanglement turned out to be a benefit."

                                                                      ~~~~~~

   In the space of a week,  if that,  Adelise,  her brother and future sister-in-law, along with Madame Deroulard,  put together wedding plans that all were, miraculously enough, able to agree on.  The planning of the wedding gave the matriarch much needed vigor and Virginie felt somewhat less guilty.   And speaking to her aunt, as she tried on her wedding dress,  Virginie was settled.
The Friday evening, following a Bridal shower in the home of Madame Deroulard,  the house was finally quiet after an afternoon of women chatting, eating and cooing over the gifts Virginie received.  Those same ladies were invited to stay overnight so everyone would be on time at the church.  Hilde, as the Maid of Honor,  was the very model of efficiency, and assured the bride--to-be and her aunt that everything would be seen to.  The church fellowship hall would be properly decked out for the reception.
   For her aunt,  Virginie only modeled her wedding gown and it's crown of white lilies.  There were a few items of  of evening wear,  received from even church friends that Virginie couldn't bring herself to describe, let alone show Madame Hilde.
"You will make the most beautiful bride, dear Virginie.  I am so much looking forward to your big day, tomorrow."
"As am I. "  Virginie giggled like a nervous school girl,  getting ready for her first date.  Before her full length mirror, Virginie examined the white gown from every angle, nearly straining her neck to ensure that the fit was just right.  "I am sorry about all the fuss and noise, Auntie.  You haven't been well lately and I feel bad for even letting you take my friends in, let alone coming up with the idea in the first place."
"I am an old lady, dear girl,"  Virginie's aunt said, settled comfortably in a chair to one side of the full length mirror.   "I'll have occasions of fatigue. On the other hand, this wedding of yours has invigorated me!  And the talk of young women just about takes me back to my younger days, when I cavorted the dorm of my Finishing school on a Friday afternoon. Dates and then late night chat about our dates.  Saturdays were brunch days just because most of us didn't wake til nearly noon."
Content that the gown fit as well as it ever would,  Virginie took it off with the utmost care, only after she took of her flower crown,  made up of a spray of fabric flowers;  sprinkles of pink and white.  The flower crown was carefully  placed back in the hat box and then set in the center of her dressing table.
" You're nervous?"
   "Is that wrong?"
"Not at all. I'd be more concerned if you weren't nervous.  All new brides are nervous, Virginie, about a thousand things.  But let me settle your mind;  your husband to be is nervous, too.  He worries about forgetting your ring.  He has friends at work who have assured him, time and again, that all is in hand.  Still, I have no doubt Hercule fears that he may drive them all mad with the constant questions. But have no fear.  He loves you. You love him.  Enjoy tomorrow and take each day and occasion as it comes.  Sadly,  I fear some of your friends,  even from church, have been less than ...careful."
Virginie sat at the foot of her bed. "How did you figure that?"
"Some of them seem to equate my difficulty in hearing to being stone deaf so they chat away in my hearing, and let me tell you, dear, I get an earful of information that I would blush to relate. So I won't!  I will only say, being much more tactful,  that the first night a husband and wife share together is to be for them, exclusively.   Not for the talk of her and a dozen other women,  and him and a dozen other men.  Whoever those gossipy hens are,  I pity their future husbands.   Do better for yourself and your husband, Virginie."
"I will, auntie.  I've easily seen more than you've heard,  and I spent better part of the afternoon biting my tongue to keep from lecturing a few of those same friends. "
"I don't want to imagine what confessions the priest has to make after he's heard their confessions."   The formidable dame shook the thoughts from her mind and Virginie giggled. "Anyway,  my dear, I will leave you to get ready for bed.  I want to be up early and see that you get to the church on time."
Seeing her aunt to the bedroom door,  Virginie kissed the lady on both cheeks. "You have done so much for me. Given so much!   Including the gift among the collection I received today."
"Oh, tosh!"  the old lady waved the compliment aside, more out of embarrassment.  "You are family.  And you've done me the world of good since your cousin's ...."  The dame of the home dismissed the matter. "Oh,  never mind.  That's all over.  What is important is how you have been a blessing to me, Virginie.  And now, you and your husband.  Eventually, there will be grandchildren.  But for now, this day is enough. Good night, my girl."
     Virginie leaned over so the older, small lady could plant a motherly kiss on her forehead.  With that, Madame Deroulard headed down the hall to her room and Virginie got ready for bed,  with no false hopes of even being able to sleep.

                                                ~~~~~

"Virginie! Vir-gin-ie!"  Sing song voices cut into the woman's dream until her eyes slowly opened to find Hilde and Adelise  bent over;  smiling at her.
"Are you going to get for your wedding, young lady, or would you like one of us to call your husband and ask him to wait for next weekend."
Virginie's eyes opened wide, but she dared not get up quickly.  Her hair was wrapped in tie curlers and she didn't want to risk jostling  any of them loose.  "What time is it?"  it quickly dawned on her to check her own clock,  with its alarm set to ring at seven a.m.  It was 6:20 in the morning.
Slowly lifting her head from her pillow,  Virginie was relieved to see, or not see her journal.  She'd replaced it in the locked drawer of her bedside table and was reading her purse-sized Bible,  and had replaced the bookmark to the last chapter of Proverbs before she'd tucked the Bible under her pillow and  put own the light of her oil lamp.
"I can't believe I slept at all.  My mind was whirling with a million things!" she said, getting into her dressing gown.  "So? What do I do first?"
Hilde and Adelise smiled at each other. As women who'd been down the road of pre-wedding anxiety,  they understood, but it was Hilde who pointed the girl to the bathroom. "Give your face a good wake-up wash and we'll proceed from there.  Now I have to go downstairs and start breakfast.  I've got a house full of hungry, antsy women to feed."
"You are a gem, Hilde!"  Virginie declared,  hugging the woman who'd become like a second mother. Or third.  What did it matter?  She was family.  "What would we do without you?"
"I don't know about you,  Virginie, but Madame would not find it so easy to cheat at cards with anyone else!" The woman pointed to the bathroom. "Go on, m' girl. Get  yourself freshened up and come down for breakfast. A bride needs to keep up her strength."
From that point on,  everything was a happy blur.  Breakfast,  which Virginie hardly remembered eating and the fuss made over her hair and nails by her friends from church.  As she untied the tie-curls, Celeste casually posed the question to the bride to be.  "Have you had a chance to browse that book I got you?  It may well come in handy tonight."
"Uh,  no,"  Virginie stammered over her answer. "Truth to tell,  I've been packing.  I might have put it in my suitcase. I'll double check.  I've been doing everything in a state of...sleep-walking.  Or maybe sleepwalking isn't the best..."
"You've been focused on on today,"  Virginie's longtime friend guessed.  "Well, that's good. But do let me know if you were able to make...practical use of the book's...instruction."
The interruption by Madame Deroulard was a relief too big for words.   The matriarch, herself was  dressed to impress, right down to the hairstyle.  Ringlettes gave her face an appearance of fullness.
"Are we going to a wedding today, ladies, or will Monsieur Poirot have to wait another week to see his bride?"  the woman demanded in a voice that always cleared a room. "You gals get yourselves dressed.  My niece has been dressing herself for years. I think she can do it today.  Hilde,  please make sure the hansom cabs are out front at nine-thirty.   That will give us a bit of extra time to work with. I don't like to cut time close on such occasions."
"It's all seen to,  Madame.  And I called the church right after.  The fellowship hall is getting ready."
While the two women ran off a check list, Virginie somehow managed to get into her gown and pin up her hair, that was a cascade of curls.   Well, that was one nightmare out of the way.
The 'Lily Crown'  as Hilde called it,  was the finishing touch.
"Oh, my dear!"  Madame Deroulard declared.
"What?  Is something...?" Virginie spun around in a panic.
"Everything is BEAUTIFUL!"  Hilde declared.
"You light up the room!   And when your husband sees you, those eyes of his will shine like a lighthouse beacon! If I could predict the rest of your married life based on this moment,  my dear girl,  you two will have the happiest life."
"I trust your predictions, Madame."
"I'm ...USUALLY right on these things."   The woman added, apologetically. "I do wish I could be part of the wedding party, bride's maids and all. I just didn't want to slow it down. "
"Then you sit at the front of the church and enjoy the ceremony."  Virginie kissed her aunt on her lightly rouged  cheeks.
"I shall;  all the while sending up prayers for our extended family.  If you can believe it, I even have your first child's name picked out."
Hilde rolled her eyes. "Two hours before the wedding and you've already made parents out of them.  I'm glad you're not riding the cab,  good lady, or they'd be driving backward through the streets of Belgium. That would be one confused horse!"
As per schedule,  the hansom cabs were in front of the house at 9:30.   With the last minute check list gone over,  Virginie got into the cab,  with Madame Deroulard,  who was assisted by the driver and Hilde,  who double checked the door.

                                                  ~~~~

  In his room,  at the church Hercule double-checked his tie,  the sleeves on his suit,  and for the thirty-sixth thousandth time,  made sure his brother, Maxime had the ring.  The expression on his older brother's face told the youngest Poirot NOT to ask the same question again.
"Apologies,  brother, but my brain, it is not in the working order today.   I fear I may even forget my name by the time I have to take the walk up the aisle.  What if I forget to walk?"
"You have four friends from your officer's corps here.  If all else fails, they'll prop you up."
A knock on the door and Jules Poirot peeked in. "The ladies have arrived."
"Virginie?  She is here?"  Hercule tucked his hands into his perfectly pressed trouser pockets.  "Oh, heaven,  be merciful.  My palms, they sweat when I am nervous.  Right now, I feel like the proverbial snowman in a heatwave."
"Little brother,"  Jules Poirot smiled at his youngest sibling. "You will be fine. Honest. I felt the very same way at the church on my wedding day.  Mind you, I got married just before Christmas. It was a cold winter, which turned to my advantage. I could go outside to relieve the sweats I was getting."
"Now you tell me.  Should we postpone and wait for the winter?"
A chorus of "NO!"  was declared by his groomsmen;  fellow officers and siblings alike.
A knock at the door and in popped Maxime Poirot.  "Time to face the music and dance, little brother."
"Dance?"
"The service is about to begin. You have to be at the front of the church to receive your bride."
"Do you have the ring?"
"Oh dear. You mean I shouldn't have pawned it for that drink? I was a bit short of..."
"Comment?!"  Poirot panicked and Jules chastised his older brother.  "Don't scare him any more than he is, or he and Virginie will be having their honeymoon in a hospital casualty ward."
"I HAVE THE RING, HERCULE!" Maxime assured his youngest brother for the final time.  "Shy of being held up by a gang of jewel thieves, it's not leaving my possession until you ask for it. Now let's go. I'll be meeting Virginie and the rest of you will be at the front... holding up my brother."
~~~~
   Somehow,  Poirot got through the door that lead to the church sanctuary.  Right behind him stood his older brother, Jules, and three members of his police squadron, including a commanding officer,  whose pep talk did bolster his courage, just enough.  Would his own father have  said the same?  More than likely.  Then again, this was not the time to wallow in WHAT IF's. His mind was jumbled enough.
And then came the music that awakened him Poirot and focused him completely!  The organ in the balcony began playing Beethoven's  'Fur Elise'  which was the first piece that played at the concert of their first date.  Oh, how long ago?  Not long and yet, a whole lifetime past. 

  The church was full and yet Poirot's sight was fixed on the door at the back of the church.  When the doors opened,  he saw four women, one at a time, including his sister, Adalise, dressed in simple yet elegant peach-pink dresses. Oh, the miracle of what women could accomplish when they put their skills to work. It put him to shame.
Then, the sight he longed to see.... his bride, accompanied down the elegantly decorated church by his brother.  Virginie,  in a snow-white wedding gown and her hair pinned and cascaded with a crown of petals.  Hercule Poirot realized that his hands had stopped sweating.  He drinking in the moment like a man on the desert, given refuge and a tall glass of cold water.
As they reached the front of the church,  Maxime turned Virginie over to her groom and stood to his brother's right as their priest took his place.
"Dearly beloved.  Ladies and gentlemen,  I don't recall how far back it was when I inquired when these two kids would be making wedding plans,  but I couldn't help but believe it would happen.   And so, here we are."
The congregation was a sea of smiles.
" Hercule and Virginie,  you have chosen to come before God and this company of family and friends to declare your love and commitment to one another.  Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"
Maxime Poirot raised his hand briefly.  "The  groom's brother."
Giggles from the congregation who heard the reply and smiles from bride, groom and Priest.
Holding out his Bible, the priest requested Virgine and Hercule place their hands on it. "Virginie, do you take Hercule Poirot to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this day, onward?  In good times and bad?  Forsaking all others,  keeping yourself for him as long as you both shall live?"
"I do,"  she spoke with conviction.
"And do you,  Hercule, take Virginie to be your lawfully wedded wife, from this day, onward?  In good times and bad? Foraking all others, keeping yourself for her, as long as you both shall live?"
"I do,"  he declared to all present.
"Do you have the rings?"
Mysteriously,  Maxime had, sometime in the proceedings, produced a tiny little pillow, on which sat the ring Poirot intended to borrow from his sister. It would become an heirloom, which, he hoped, one day,  their son would give to his wife or that their daughter would wear.
"Place the ring on Virginie's finger and repeat the vow you wish your your lives.
With the utmost care,  grateful that his hands were no longer sweating,  Hercule placed the ring on Virginie's right hand wedding finger, "Virginie, my love,  from this day to forever; however long that is,  I will love you." 
"Virginie, will you place the ring on Hercule's finger and repeat your vow,"  the priest counselled.
Virginie took the gold wedding band from the pillow held out by Adalise and placed it on the wedding finger of Hercule's right hand, and recited much the same sentiments as her husband.  "Hercule, my true love,  Now and Forever after, I will remember this day, all the days that lead up to it and all the days that come after." 
"And now, by the power invested in me by God and the city of Brussels, Belgium, I pronounce that you are husband and wife.  Hercule Poirot, you may now kiss your bride."
What began in shy hesitance became a full kiss, to the cheers of the congregation.

  ~~~~

     The fellowship hall was beautifully decked out,  with tables decorated, and the head table appropriately decorated, complete with a huge wedding bell, made from floral colored tissue paper, that hung over where Hercule and Virginie sat.  Before everyone ate,  there were thanks extended, from bride and groom to family and friends and all who made the day possible.
"I am one,"  Poirot began. "who likes to think he has the order and method, as they say, 'sewn up',  but when I saw all the work accomplished by you ladies, in such a short time, I may well have to take, again, my police training.  You have put me to shame."
The ladies, including Madame Deroulard, Hilde, and Virginie, cheered.
  Once dinner was finished,  Poirot and Virginie were invited to the center of the room to cut their wedding cake; a gift made possible by the friends and family on both sides of their family.
"Chocolate!"  Poirot rejoiced as he and Virginie, hand in hand, sliced the first piece of cake they would share as a married couple.  But he fed Virginie first and then accepted a forkful of the delectable dessert. After which,  everyone lined up to take a piece of the wedding cake.
With dinner and dessert finished,  the newlyweds shared the first dance of the event, to the song "That's how I need You" ,  on the phonograph and record supplied by Madame Deroulard.
"I heard it yesterday and thought it should be the first song you two dance to, together."  Madame spoke, introducing the song she choose.  "As I listened to your vows,  I realized how right I was."
After their first dance,  the couple thanked everyone again and announced, "We have a train to catch to DePanne.  There is a lovely Seaside  Inn with our reservation,  awaiting."   Virginie declared and I hate being late for anything."
The couple was quickly hugged by family and friends and then hustled out the door,  where their coach, with luggage already loaded to the roof rack,  awaited the bride and groom. Upon stepping foot outside the church,  they  were bombarded with rice and confetti until they got into the car;  breathless with laughter and relief.

    "We did it!"  Virginie giggled. "I have been a bundle of nerves all day. And then I saw you at the front of the church, and my butterflies took flight."
Poirot took his wife's ringed hand and kissed it. "I felt the same, my love.  Anxious that I would forget what I wanted to say. What I was supposed to do. And then, I saw you and everything, it became clear as day."
    "Okay,  lovebirds! Where to?"
   "Jules?"
   "Of course,  You know I have my own cab company, but do you think I'd trust just anyone to drive my newlywed brother and sister-in-law to their wedding destination. Or at least to the train station that will get you there."
"If you knew where we were going, why did you ask 'Where to' ?"  Jules Poirot's sister-in-law quizzed.
"It's what cabbies do. Besides accept generous tips."
"To the train station, driver.  If you get us there ALIVE, I will think about the tip."  Hercule teased, feeling so euphoric that he would have tipped his own brother Fifty Francs, but there were other considerations more important at this time. Such as the comfort of his bride.
By the time they got to the train station,  the sky was beginning to cloud over.   Poirot was anxious but Virginie was all smiles. "I love a good rain. Especially when I'm safe out of it."
A porter was quick to supply a trolley for their baggage,  for which Poirot tipped four Francs. He attempted to tip his brother,  only to have Jules roll his eyes.  "Little brother, you must learn how to take a joke."
At the ticket counter,  Poirot got the tickets from Virginie, who'd kept them in her purse.
"Thank you again, Jules, for all your help today. I don't know how I would have gotten to the church without you and Maxime."
"You decided in a hurry when I said I'd marry Virginie if you didn't."
"Oh, OUI!  Fool that I can be, I am not that big a fool to pass up this day."
"I hope we have all girls!"  Virginie declared;  hugging her brother-in-law quickly as the voice over the speakers announced their train.

~~~~

   The train ride from Brussels to DePanne was barely two hours,  and in that time,  over flutes of champagne, compliments of the Belge Transport,  they mapped out their plans and dreams for the next week.
"I want it to rain every night,"  Virginie Poirot said. "During the days, we can travel and walk on the beach or see sights. Go to the theater. At night..." she kissed her husband on the nose,  "I want to hear the thunder crackle and the rain pour down. Just so long as I am with you,  Hercule, I am safe, oui?"
"Oh, oui.  Yes, my dearest love. You will never fear of that. Rain, fog, whatever I can do, however I can do it,  I will keep you safe."
  Once they disembarked at the DePanne train station, finding a cab wasn't much more difficult.  In fact, it was almost as easy, when they saw the man with the one-name sign;  POIROT.
"Your brother,"  the driver said,  loading the four suitcases;  two on top, two in the back of the cab.  He has a good reputation.  Jules Poirot has influence."
"Merci."    Poirot opened the back door for his wife and got in after.   "The Ocean View Inn please, driver."
Inside of fifteen minutes,  they were in the driveway of a very lovely  Inn, with all the luxuries of a hotel and yet, all the coziness and scenery of a country villa.  Poirot got Virginie into the lobby while he and the cabbie got a trolley for their luggage and unloaded.  Poirot tipped the driver five Francs, for which he was thankful.
The driver just got into the car when the dark clouds burst and the rain came down, just about in a sheet.
"Virginie!"  Poirot noticed his wife standing just outside the canopy that covered the entry to the villa. "I thought you were inside."
"I was.  But I love the smell of rain. Kiss me. I want to be able to tell our kids how their father kissed me in the rain on our honeymoon."
Poirot happily complied.  After a lingering kiss he smiled at his wife.   "Now may we go inside?  In order to bring children into the world, it would help if we were not both dying of the Pneumonia."
Inside the very cozy lobby of the Inn,  the sound of piano music caught their ear.  To the right of the front desk,  there were sofas , a fire place,  and in between the face to face sofas, there was a small piano.  Sitting at the bench was a middle aged gentleman.  He didn't look 'professional' , but he most definitely sounded like he knew his way up and down a piano scale as the music from Chopin's Raindrop Prelude wafted through the air.
Two 'stewards'  took two suit cases each up the stairs to their room,  with Poirot and Virginie heading up and the stewards were returning.
"Mr. and Mrs. Poirot,  your full bill has been paid, in advance, by Mrs. Deroulard,  including gratuities for the staff.  So you needn't double tip. That's part of the reason I kept you here until they returned."  The female manager handed Poirot the key to their room along with a long white envelope.  "Congratulations on your wedding day and we hope you will enjoy your stay."  She pointed to the envelope, "Open that in your suite."
And it was a suite alright.  His and hers bathrooms,  the bedspread was turned down from the right side and on the dresser there was bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket and two flute glasses.
"After we get out of these wet clothes,"  Virginie decided. "I'm starting to feel chilled, myself."

   Taking her night case, she departed into one bathroom while her husband went into the other.  Poirot appeared in the living room fifteen minutes later, wearing pajamas, a bathrobe, with his hair and teeth brushed to perfection.  It was silly, he realized, to be so ....specific about things.   He could relax now.  And yet, he was still nervous,  scared about disappointing this woman.  Again, though, as soon as he saw her,  in her white evening gown and her brown hair brushed to a shine,  the fear left.  Sort of.
 
   Remembering the Champagne, he went to the drawer and took a glass for her and one for himself.  Miraculously,  he managed to open the champagne without making a mess.  Normally more careful,  Hercule was pre-occupied with making sure everything was JUST RIGHT tonight.
Pouring a glass full for his wife and then for himself,  they toasted to  "Now and Forever. However long that is."
"What was in that envelope?"  Virginie asked, glancing around to find it.  Of course, it was on the edge of the very same dresser the champagne was in the middle of.    She opened it and saw an ornately carved wooden sign that was to go outside the door.  Inscribed, with expert craftsmanship was the statement;

  👰  WEDDING NIGHT.🤵

Please do NOT disturb.

Upon admiring the workmanship, Virginie handed the door sign to her husband and watched him as he opened the door of their suite just wide enough to get the intricately carved sign onto the outside doorknob.  Then the door was slowly closed.