HItched on a whim!

Yesterday I married Jen the way I do everything else in my life. Without a plan. I called her and said, "Jen, let's get married today." It was the same way I proposed. Without a plan. I said, "Jen, let's get married." It was the same way I got her pregnant. There was no, "Baby let's make a baby." conversation. She just said, "I'm pregnant" and gave me a stinky eye I interpreted as, "Ask me what I want to do. I dare you. Ask me that stupid question and I will fry you for dinner."

Yesterday Jen did what Jen does. She followed my plan to be without a plan. So she said yes. She shed a little tear on the altar as she said "I do". I swallowed a huge potato as I said "I do." But I never once entertained a second of doubt. Marrying this woman is the best thing I'll ever do with my life.
So this evening at around 1729hrs, she is seated on the balcony at this lodge in Naivasha. The sun is setting in the distance. In front of her is Lake Naivasha. Beautiful in its calm. There are tiny rocks at the shore around which tiny waves rock and form some froth. Whitish grayish form that seems a little out of place in the peace displayed in the lake.
Jen is seated on a rocking chair at the balcony staring out at the ocean. There is a strong breeze blowing her hair. It prompts her to squint her eyes as if she is looking for something in the lake. She has her laptop on her laps but she appears to pay no heed to it. She has a deera on and the wind keeps blowing it all over her body. It is like the clothing is fighting for dear life. Clawing and biting and kicking to cling to that body.

I am standing behind her, watching the lake with her.
"Do you ever wonder if we are making the wrong choices with our lives?" She asks. Her voice is soft. Low. Like she is whispering out to the ocean. She doesn't turn to face me. It is like she can feel me standing behind her. "What if what we are doing is wrong?"
"Getting married you mean?"
There are herons on the water. Swimming together in unison. From a distance, they resemble a large ball of silk, enjoying the evening breeze and the smooth touch of soft warmth of the setting sun.
"All of it. Loving each other. Getting pregnant. Getting married. What if we wake up and we are 50 and we're wondering why we did any of it?"
"It is a long time between now and 50 darling."
"Look at those birds in the lake." She squints even more then turns to me with a smile. "You see them, don't you?"
"I do."

"They seem so peaceful. Confident. Like they are doing exactly what they were created to do." She looks out into the lake again with the smile sticking stubbornly on her lips. It spreads to her eyes, reducing them to slits. "Wouldn't it be great, if we could know that what we are doing is exactly what we need to be doing?"
"It would. But that would make for a very lazy living."
"Do you think they know? The birds? Do you think they know that we reflect and they don't?"
I step back into our room. There is a table on top of which is a gargantuan TV we haven't once switched on since we came here last night for our honeymoon. There is a tiny fridge beside this table. In there is a bottle of Whiskey and another of Soda.

There are two inverted glasses on the table. I pour myself a generous shot of whiskey and dilute it with the soda. Then I pour Jen a glass of soda and carry the two drinks out to the balcony.
"There you go darling." I hand her the soda and she receives it deliberately slowly. There is that mysterious smile playing continuously on her lips. It is smooth. Smooth as my whiskey. Smooth as the country music playing on her laptop. Smooth as when her lips part and the phrase "I love you" pours out.