"Oh, yeah? You mean the legal part, like getting the license?" he asked.
"No," I said. "The whole thing -- license, ceremony, certificate, all of it in under an hour, about 20 minutes ago." Matt looked stunned. Before he had a chance to say anything, I added, "And you're the only person who knows! "
Matt looked from me to David and back again. I could see him processing the information, trying to decide if I was being serious. "You didn't have any witnesses?"
"Only the girls at the county office," I answered.
"Wow," Matt said, shaking his head as if to de-fog it. "Well, congratulations!"
"Looks like you're the only guest at our wedding reception," I said. Smiling and offering more well wishes, Matt excused himself to check on other diners. When we were finished eating, he brought us a dessert we had not ordered, a flan, into which he'd placed two candles he'd melted together at the bottom.
"Are you bummed we didn't buy one of those 'Gregory J. Smith, County Assessor' memorial pens for five bucks?" I asked, slicing a bite of flan with my fork.
David laughed. "I think the bumper sticker was five and the pen was ten."
"So," I said, in a more sober tone. I waited for David to look at me before asking, "Do we tell anyone?"
David sipped his wine, considered my question, and finally replied, "We've been telling them for years."