They were married in a deco box palace made of Hemingway bricks, Gatsby garden dust and pink grapefruit marmalade mortar, handcrafted by waves and salty sky. The resort's grand foyer is still digesting the roaring 20's in its belly. He's a leader and a joker, the funniest slice of toast in the whole deck of bread. She sits somewhere between eternal perma-grin and the longevity of the longest laugh, showering in his dry humor and enraptured gaze, for he is constantly dumbfounded by her beauty. He will forever be casting pebbles at the windows of her eyes, asking for yet another midnight frolic under the banyan tree.