Anchor

by M. Mabie

  They walked up the aisle as their bows slid over strings and erased all the agony violins had once caused me. Then it got to the part where the lyrics started. Everyone began singing softly.

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.”

  My heart swelled with emotion as she turned the corner and stopped. I pinched my lips together tightly, knowing if I didn’t secure them they would shake right off my face.

  Fireworks.

  The Mona Lisa.

  The Sistine Chapel.

  The Grand Canyon and all of the other wonders of the world didn’t hold a candle to her. She was effervescent. Breathtaking. Life changing. This was nothing new.

  Our families and friends hummed all at once to our Led Zeppelin song and the sound infiltrated my skin. The trio of violins stood just to the side where there was open space.

  She was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen. She wore a long silk gown that almost looked yellow from where I stood, but it could have been the lighting. The front dipped low and was held up only by two thin strings over her shoulders. She wore her anchor next to her heart.

  My honeybee. My Betty. My only.

  I begged God that I could make her as happy as she made me. Hot love spread through my body and my foot bounced, instinctively wanting to run to her, but knowing I shouldn’t. I needed to stay in my place and let her come to me. But somehow it just didn’t feel right. Before I could stop, I was walking to my bride.

  Her hair was down, but held to the side with a clip. She smiled, and her head tilted, as I worshiped her with my lucky eyes.

  The heavenly violins played.

  They played our song. And it was the most wonderful thing I’d ever heard.

  Everyone stood and watched as I left my post. I didn’t give a fuck. When it came to her, I never had. Swiftly my feet walked, but they could have been floating, I’m not really sure. I had only one focus. Her.

  Her eyes overflowed with tears as I stopped just before her at the end of the aisle.

  “I’m sorry, Blake. I know I was supposed to stay down there, but I couldn’t. You’re too beautiful. I had to come to you,” I admitted. She didn’t look upset by my unscripted move.

  “It’s okay, Casey.” She quietly laughed. Then she moved the flowers she was holding to her side and offered me her free hand. I moved to her side and took her small hand in mine; then lifted it to my heart.

  It was weird and strange and everyone looked at us as we stood together at the bride’s entrance, but it was also exactly perfect.

  We were going together. We’ve got this.

  She wasn’t a possession to be given to me. There was no exchange needed. But something wasn’t right about her walking alone either. She’d decided she didn’t want her father walking her down the aisle a while back. After I spoke to him, he understood. But there, in the moment, every instinct I had said don’t make her walk alone. It was completely the opposite gesture to commemorate what we had. What we’d been through.

  What she’d been through. And I was about to promise to be by her side forever. Starting out, by her side, felt like the only thing that was right.

  “I’m glad you came over,” she whispered. “I’d gladly walk to you alone, but walking together is better.” So in sync. She understood my intention so well. Loved that woman.

  The violins played.

  This time my heart listened.

  Four feet, sure and steady, walked our souls to the Promised Land. That may seem dramatic, but I can assure you it was not. In front of us was everything, the vows were our beginning. They were the starting line, and it was finally our race to be had.

  Then we were there, watched by the supporting eyes of our loved ones.

  At the head of the altar, we stopped and faced each other, but we didn’t part. We stood face to face, fingers locked and pressed to my chest. There was no reason to feel territorial about this woman, as no one was competing with me. It was a weird feeling. I was possessive, only because I wanted her to feel it. She loved my claiming and I’d show her every day that I wanted her for my very own.

  “Hello, everyone,” said Dr. Rex. “I’m so honored to share with Blake and Casey in this special ceremony.” As she began talking, we pulled—only slightly—away from each other to let everyone watch the doctor as she spoke. “When they asked me to officiate, I had my reservations. I’m not holy. I’m not a very religious woman. What could I offer?”

  Blake watched Dr. Rex with a lovely expression of pride on her face. Yet another decision that made this wedding feel like ours. Not like the repeat of someone else’s. It was stamped with Betty and Lou like our mugs from so long ago. Just like us.

  “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a doctor. A scientist of sorts. I review information. I study. I question. It’s in my nature to dissect issues people have and formulate a plan. A goal. A way.

  “As you all know, the scientific and faith-based communities hinge on what they perceive as fact. But Casey and Blake fall into both in that respect. So if some consider this union religious, I’d have to agree. But I also see it as a beautiful example of science and one of the Universe’s most wondrous gifts. Observing their love is marvelous in person.”

  My bride’s thumb rubbed back and forth over my hand and my breath hitched, as the moment caught up with me again. Her eyes said, “Look at us. We’re here. We really do have this.” She beamed.

  I hope the photographer listened to my instructions. Catch all of her smiles.

  “There are many theories on amour, on human chemistry, on marriage and husbandry throughout all species. There are animals who, without faith of a higher power, find their biological mates. The reciprocal to themselves. And they monogamously mate for life. That is fact,” she stated.

  We’d shared many conversations with her about how we wanted the ceremony to happen. What we were comfortable with—what was important to us. It was probably just as unorthodox as the rest of our relationship had been.

  Neither Blake nor I felt like religion was the center of our vows or our commitment, but we both felt like it was certainly a higher power that had brought us first together, and then gave us strength to fight. Unquestionably, however, there was something so basic—so chemically fundamental—to our attraction.

  “When I first met Blake, and she told me her story, I was so curious. Skeptical, too, in fact. Surely, she was in love. It was obvious. The way she spoke of the man in her heart. The way her love made her glow, even when she felt less than a prize to be had.

  “I had to see for myself.” Dr. Rex chuckled. “This love-sick woman. I hoped—for her sake—he felt the same way. Then I saw him with her, unfortunately, in a hospital, she didn’t even know he was there. He was tender and attentive. He was just as tangled up with her as she was him.”

  I winked at Blake when she stole a sideways look at me.

  “So, call it what you will. Divine intervention. Chemistry. God’s will. Casey Moore loves Blake Warren. And she loves him. Undisputedly. Unapologetically. Unconditionally. Untamed and completely.”

  At that point, I was watching Blake as she listened. She’d sucked in her bottom lip and I would have given anything to hear her thoughts. Hear what she was thinking.

  “Blake and Casey have written vows for each other. Perfect for them. Giving blindly and wholeheartedly they are making promises to one another. They consent to each other’s needs. They yield to the other’s will. And after all, isn’t that what we want from love?”

  Dr. Rex opened her arms and then kindly asked, “Blake, would you go first?”

  Her brown eyes shimmered. Gone was worry. Gone was guilt. Only hope and trust and love were reflected. I knew what she was about to say, as I’d written them myself. But I never expected how overwhelming it would be hearing my wildest fantasies spill from her wedding lips.

  She giggled when her trembling hands unfolded the paper I’d handwritten her vows on.

  “I, Blake Gretchen Warren, take you, Casey Frances Moore, to be
my equal partner in love, ally through conflict, accomplice in mischief, and lover for the rest of my days on this Earth.” She read slowly, it was clear she hadn’t broken her word to wait until now. “I promise to always include you in my joys and my trials, my happiness and my sorrows. I promise to always let you share my burdens and ask for help when I need it. I promise to never serve you steak on a paper plate.” She laughed through the most beautiful tears I’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I promise to never willingly share my cheesecake, but make you work for it. I promise to always be your Valentine, your Betty, and your honeybee. I promise to always be careful when you’re not around because I carry your heart in mine.” She stopped when the words choked her. Finally she continued, voice wobbling, chin quivering. “I promise to always let you catch me, always follow the wind back home to you at night, and trust that you’ll always chase me and welcome me home. I’ve been yours from the first night we met, and you’ve been mine that long too. I promise that even though love is hard work, it’s worth it. I love you and I promise to never stop.”

  I’ve never in my whole life wanted to kiss two lips more than I did in that moment. She was mine.

  When she finished, she put the words to her heart and said only to me, “I took the bait.” My knees almost failed.

  Dr. Rex said, “Casey, now you, please.”

  I pulled the paper from my pocket and took a deep breath.

  Saturday, September 18, 2010

  I WANTED HIM TO kiss me so badly. It felt like his lips were pulling mine toward him, but I had to wait. He stood, trembling like I was. He was vulnerable and sexy and more than I’d ever expected to get out of this life. He was mine.

  He winked at me again and I almost fainted, then he began.

  “I, Casey Frances Moore, take you, Blake Gretchen Warren, to be my lover, my best friend, and my wife. I vow to always kiss you good morning and good night. I promise to always make you laugh and never filter what I’m thinking from you. I will always tell you what I want, even if I’m not sure you want to hear it. I promise I’ll always keep our home happy and safe. I promise to never hurt you, never lie, and never throw away my red pants.” His smile was so bright and it took top seat above all the millions of Casey smiles fluttering through my mind. “I promise that I’ll always challenge you, always trust we can do anything together. I vow to never cut my hair shorter than the approved length and to make sure my phone is always charged. I promise when times are rough, we’ll get through them. I promise when times are perfect, I won’t take them for granted. I promise I’ll love you forever and make that as long as possible. I promise to always be your Lou and that you’ll always be my honeybee. I promise I’m yours as much as you are mine, today and for the rest of our lives.”

  It was quiet when he finished. It was peaceful in that space and time where we were the only ones who existed. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  “You, their people, are witnesses to this union and their pledges to each other. I challenge you to help them remember these promises, if they should ever forget. It is my pleasure, by the power vested in me by the beautiful state of Oregon, to announce this love permanent and these two people wed, bound and tethered together by the law and by their free will.

  “Everyone, Mr. And Mrs. Casey Moore,” she proclaimed. “Let the groom kiss his bride.”

  There are many fairy tales that speak to the potency of that very moment. Two lives joined in matrimony. I can assure you there was never a bride in history more in love than I was with my groom.

  I’m sure our family cheered. I’m sure they clapped and some probably cried.

  But when his two warm hands cupped my damp cheeks and claimed me in front of God and everyone, it felt like the most sacred kiss of my life. It was better than our first kiss. Better than the second. It was the sum of all our kisses multiplied by every ounce of passion and affection I’d ever felt. I embraced him, my husband, and didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

  Our mouths moved as one, as brief as it seemed looking back, but the taste of that kiss will live somewhere inside me for the rest of my life. It was sweet and salty from our tears. It was his gentle tongue insisting on sampling me, so swiftly it came and went. Knowing we were being watched, but having no desire or willpower to stop it. The moment took over and we both surrendered.

  He held tightly like he was trying to push me through his skin. If it were possible, I would have gone.

  Then it turned into pure bliss and we laughed together as the sounds and smells of the night drifted back into our reality.

  We were married.

  “Thank you,” he said into my hair as we walked, hand in hand, past our loved ones. “I’ve never been this happy.”

  “I hope I hear you say that again and again.”

  We took pictures and cut the cake. I threw the bouquet; he tossed the garter. We ate. All the while, through hugs and handshakes, I watched as a passion grew in Casey’s eyes. Our physical relationship had always been strong. Our bodies always knew they were mates. Our souls were linked stronger than blood. Stronger than our wills. Stronger than the trials we’d overcome.

  I danced with my father and he danced with his sisters.

  We had our first dance and claimed a hundred different new songs to call our own.

  Everything was exponentially better being his wife. Food tasted richer. The air was lighter and swirled around us like the fizzy bubbles in a toasting flute. There were so many stars, and they were brighter than they’d ever been.

  My skin felt new to his touch. Everything had changed, when I thought it would all be the same. That we’d already achieved the goal. I was wrong. There was more. He never left my side for more than a minute, and when he did, he always had one eye on me.

  Shoes came off. Bow ties, too. Formal wear made casual as the night grew to an end.

  “Have you had your fun, Mrs. Moore?” he asked as we swayed to a song I’ll never remember, but will nonetheless never forget how it felt.

  “I think I have. Do you mind taking your wife to bed? She needs you.”

  His eyes closed and he bit his lip smiling. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” And before I knew it, I was swept off my bare feet and in his arms. He gave me a light toss to situate his arms and announced, “Good night, everyone. It’s been fun.”

  They laughed and kept doing what they were doing, as if the party wasn’t in danger of spoiling without us.

  He walked with purpose. A man on a mission. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

  “Can you reach in my pocket, Betty? Our room key is in there.” I reached in and pulled it out as he slowed at our door. “Go ahead, I’m not letting go.” I slid it through the reader and opened the door to our room. Only one light on the far side lit the space. I didn’t mind though. We had no need for modesty. We loved each other’s bodies.

  He walked us to the bed and then sat down, still cradling me in his arms.

  “This is the best night of my life,” I admitted, knowing the true best part was yet to come, and my fingers roamed his face needing to touch him. He didn’t say anything back, but his response felt like he was agreeing. His hand moved up my leg, my dress falling open at the slit that went clear up to my hip. He kissed my neck and I laid my head on his shoulder allowing me to savor his gentle touch.

  “You smell so new to me. You taste different, too,” he said as his lips found my jaw. “Why does this feel so different?”

  He was right, and I couldn’t explain it either.

  His fingers touched my lips. “Were you always this intoxicating?” His voice was hushed and low. My husband’s eyes studied my mouth like he’d never seen me before.

  He moved, setting me on the bed and stood in front of me. “Sit up for me, honeybee.”

  I got to my knees before him.

  “Lift your arms, please.”

  He took his time finding the zipper on the side and pulling it down. He gathered the fabric of my wedding dress and slowly p
ulled it over my head. I hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t a dress that called for one. I only had a tiny, satin thong, but I was unashamed. The more he studied me, the more beautiful I felt. He ran one finger up my thigh and over my stomach. It traced my collarbone, over the ridge of my shoulder and down my arm. Every hair on my body shot out to greet him.

  He hypnotized me. My breaths were coming in uneven waves.

  He took two steps back and began unbuttoning his shirt, discarding it when his fingers ran out of loops to empty. His hair looked just like the night we’d met. Perfectly chaotic. Totally him. I watched as he licked his lips and the action sent a pool of arousal to my core. My body screamed. Taste me, too.

  He pulled his undershirt out of his flawlessly tailored dress pants exposing his lean chest and stomach to me. The muscles below his ribs flexing as the cotton passed his head.

  He unzipped his pants. My chest caved under the sensual pressure in the room.

  “There’s no past anymore, honeybee. Only our future. Only firsts,” he said, allowing his pants to fall to the floor before stepping out of them. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How this is the first time I’ve had sex on my wedding night. Like I’d saved it for you all along.”

  He smiled so proudly like I’d handed him the world.

  “It’s the first time I’m going to make love to my wife,” he boasted.

  I knew I had an even bigger gift and prepared to watch him receive it.

  “It’s the first time I’ve ever had sex with my husband …” I said, and committed that very second to memory, then finished, “ … pregnant.”

  It was the most spectacular rainbow of emotion. The small gasp. His mouth fell open. The shock matured into pure joy, spreading from the corners of his eyes down his face like a waterfall. My Casey. My love. My words had hit him like a bolt of lightning. I watched him hear them.

  It was so fun that I did it twice. Because sometimes things happen that are so far past fantastic you have to do them again simply to see if they’re as spectacular the second time. Those precious moments are almost as good as the next, when you learn sometimes second-time moments are more.