Live For This

by Kathryn R. Biel

  Samirah’s been in her room for a while. I was in the bathroom when she got home. She went right in and closed the door. I hope she’s okay. Whenever she goes into her room like that, I worry about her. That one of these days, she won’t be able to handle everything anymore.

  I pull on my tie and roll my shoulders. I want to take this coat off. I wonder how long we’ll have to be at the reception before I can cast it aside. For the third time, I check my bag of supplies. More likely than not, unless Samirah’s having a terrible time, I’m going to have to cath there. It’s a pain, but I’d rather be prepared than have an accident.

  I look at my watch. We’re going to need to leave soon. I think it’s completely and totally ridiculous to have your ceremony midday and then not have the reception until the evening. I think it’s rude, like you are so important that everyone has to carve out the whole day for you. I remember talking about it with Lainie when friends got married a while back. She thought the timing was a great idea.

  Before my accident, we’d talked a fair amount about our wedding, even though we weren’t yet engaged. I don’t think she ever got over not getting her perfect proposal. Of course, I was planning it all out. It’s not my fault I got mowed down moments after I picked up the ring. At the hospital, when they weren’t sure if I was going to make it or not, my well meaning mother gave Lainie the ring. Mom robbed Lainie of her storybook proposal, and it’s one of the many things she never let me forget. Next time I almost die, I’ll remember not to ruin someone’s dreams.

  Samirah breezes out of her room and I swear my heart stops. Or leaps into my throat. Or does something else it’s not supposed to do.

  “Wow. Just … wow.” It’s all I can manage. My tongue feels about three sizes too big for my mouth.

  She twirls, and the dress swishes and swirls around her legs. I didn’t know what to expect with her. Based on the photos in her phone, she liked to dress to get attention.

  But I think this is going to get her more attention.

  “Is … is it okay?” she asks sheepishly.

  “It’s more than okay. You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the room. I sort of feel bad for the bride.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot to tell you!” She sits down on the couch next to me so we are eye level with each other. She does that all the time. I don’t even think she’s aware of it. I can’t help but look into her silver eyes. “Alaina is like eight months pregnant!”

  “Who?”

  “Alaina. My cousin. The bride. She’s hugely pregnant. Like it wouldn’t surprise me if she went into labor at the reception. But you know, I think it’s weird that they had a big church wedding, all white and stuff, with her being pregnant like that. I mean not that white really means white—no one would be able to wear white if it did, but you know what I mean. If I were that pregnant, I’d probably just go to city hall or elope to Hawaii or something.”

  Nah. It can’t be. I shake off that thought. “You ready?”

  “Let’s get this show on the road.” She stands, smoothing her dress. Her shoes are sparkly and peep out from under the dress. It’s not sexy in an obvious way, and yet, at the same time, I can’t imagine her looking any sexier.

  “You’re looking at me funny. Is my hair okay? Is my makeup okay?”

  I nod, unable to find words.

  “I’m not used to having this little makeup on. I’m not even wearing fake eyelashes.”

  “Fake eyelashes?”

  “Oh God yes. Those were a must for me. I feel sort of naked without them.”

  “No, you look perfect. Everything’s just right.”

  We head out to the garage. Before I can get in the car, I have to hook up the hand controls again. It only takes a few moments. Samirah had offered to drive, but I prefer to. Frankly, I’m used to getting in the car to my right, on the driver’s side. It’s harder for me to do everything the other way.

  We head down to The State Room, where the reception is being held. It used to be a bank and has been converted into a swanky ballroom. It was one of the first projects I took on after I came back to work. I know the best entrance for me is through the back. It doesn’t bother me having to use a separate entrance. Truth be told, wherever I go, I get more than enough attention because of the wheelchair. If I can sneak in under the radar, that’s fine with me.

  I’m proud of Samirah for going out in public like this. I know it’s still hard on her. I wish she had more faith in herself; that she could see what a good person she really is. She looks absolutely stunning tonight. I never thought I’d find a woman as beautiful as I once found Lainie. But, as Lainie’s truer self was revealed following my accident, the superficial looks weren’t enough for me to continue considering her attractive. Even at that last meeting, when I was holding out hope that she wanted to get back together, there was something unappealing about her.

  I can’t believe that was over three months ago. The time has flown by, mostly because of Samirah.

  As we’re walking—well, she’s walking; I’m rolling—in, it hits me. I’m totally over Lainie. Because I’ve fallen for Samirah.

  I don’t have time to process this thought, because standing in front of me is Phil’s dad. He looks shocked to see me but tries to be polite.

  “Well, look at you, Michael. You’re getting around well these days.” Mr. MacGregor nervously adjusts his tie. Mr. MacGregor was, and still is, the junior high principal. Despite the fact that he wears a suit and tie every day, he never looks comfortable. Today is no exception. “I, um, didn’t think we’d see you here today, but I’m glad to see you looking well.”

  “Mr. MacGregor, this is my friend, Samirah. She’s a cousin of the bride.”

  “Oh. That’s … good.” I see him looking around, searching. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to …” He trails off without even finishing his statement. Whatever. I wouldn’t know what to say to me either if I’d raised a son who shit all over his best friend, like Phil’s done to me.

  “He was my junior high principal,” I explain to Samirah as we continue to make our way in. People are milling about and I see a lot of familiar faces. It may be my imagination, but people seem to be staring at me. I mean, more than usual. I wonder if it’s because I’m finally out in public. I think I look pretty sharp, and in spite of my wheels, Samirah and I make one damn fine looking couple. They’re probably wondering how I landed such a hot chick. They don’t need to know the details.

  I continue. “His son was also my best friend growing up.”

  “Was?” she asks. “What happened?”

  “He couldn’t deal with me being paralyzed and he sort of faded into oblivion. I’m not sure at what point he started screwing my fiancée—ex-fiancée. But now they’re getting married. I don’t know when it started, and I don’t care.”

  And I realize I mean it. I don’t care. Lainie wasn’t right for me. I don’t know that Samirah is, but I do know she accepts me as I am. That’s something Lainie could never do.

  And speaking of Lainie, she’s walking right toward us. In a wedding gown. Oh fuck.

  “Sally, what the hell? What are you doing here? Are you even serious right now?” Her voice is low and cold. “I can’t believe you would try to ruin my day.”

  I can’t stop looking at her burgeoning belly. Holy shit, she’s pregnant. Pieces start to click into place in my brain. “I swear, Lainie, I had no idea. I’m here with Samirah. She asked me as her plus one. She never even said your name until this morning, and Alaina didn’t click for me.”

  Lainie looks between me and Samirah, who is standing there, mouth agape. “God, Sam, I don’t think I would have recognized you, all grown up. I …”

  Barbara bustles over. “What’s going on? Michael, why are you here?”

  Samirah speaks up. “He came with me. I didn’t know that …”

  Lainie and her mom look at each other. Barbara says, “She did put ‘Michael Salinger’ a
s her date on the reply card.”

  “I know, but she doesn’t even live around here. How would they know each other? It’s not like it’s that unusual a name. And he never goes by Michael.”

  Lainie looks at me. “How do you know my cousin?” I swear she’s tapping her foot impatiently, like this is my fault.

  “Samirah is my very good friend.”

  Lainie continues, “How did you meet? Did you know she was my cousin? Are you involved?” She says this last word like it’s distasteful.

  “Lainie, trust me, this is the last place I want to be right now. I don’t owe you any details about my life. Obviously, you haven’t shared all your news with me.” I motion to her stomach.

  “Sally, you saw me three months ago. I wasn’t keeping anything hidden.”

  I think back to that day in the cafe and the large tent-like dress she had worn. “Yeah, I just thought it was an unflattering dress and you’d put on weight.”

  Barbara starts laughing, “Oh Sally. Never the observant one, were you?” There’s an awkward pause before Samirah joins in the laughter, and finally Lainie gives the smallest hint of a smile.

  “Trust me, Lainie. I’m not trying to ruin your day. I just wanted to escort my girl here and was, frankly, hoping for a good meal. We’ll leave, if that’s what you want.”

  Barbara doesn’t give her daughter a chance to speak. “Michael, don’t be ridiculous. Sam is family. Gosh, you look so much like Dorri. I should have recognized you in the church.” Barbara turns back to me. “I know I didn’t see you there.”

  “St. Anne’s is difficult for me to get in. The rows are too tight. Plus, with the length of the day, I decided to pass.”

  What I don’t say, but I can tell Lainie feels acutely, is that we’d had this discussion before. When I was in rehab, everyone thought the idea of planning our wedding would give me something to look forward to. Lainie always had her heart set on getting married at St. Anne’s. It looks like she’s gotten everything she’s always wanted.

  “Well, I guess you should find your table.” Lainie still looks uncomfortable, but then she does this thing where she re-sets her face and suddenly she’s a bride again.

  So that’s that. I honestly do not miss her at all. Seeing her, I know I don’t. Barbara and Lainie go to greet other guests, and Samirah and I are left to join the party.

  I’m attending the wedding of my ex-fiancée. Unbelievable.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: SAMIRAH

  I can’t say anything. Do I apologize? Do I turn around and wheel him out of here? Do we pretend this is normal and join the party? I can’t even.

  My mind is whirring, barraged by one thought after another. We locate the large picture frame that directs us to table eighteen. It’s in the opposite corner from where we are now, so we head back across the room. It seems like Michael knows pretty much everyone here, which he probably does. People come up and shake his hand. Two of the groomsmen give him hugs—the manly, hand-clasped-in-front-while-we-slap-each-other-on-the-back hug.

  “Samirah, this loser is Trevor, and this one is Marco.” Trevor is tall with red hair that refuses to be tamed, even by the copious amounts of gel he appears to have used. Marco is short and dark.

  “Man, we so did not expect to see you here.” That was Marco.

  “No way, man. I cannot believe you came. Well, I can’t believe you were invited.”

  Michael laughs at Trevor’s candid comment. “I wasn’t. Turns out Samirah here is a cousin of the bride. Talk about small worlds.”

  Trevor looks incredulous. “So you finally manage to get your sorry ass a date, and she brings you to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding?”

  Michael laughs. “That’s about my luck. And, I had no idea Lainie was pregnant.”

  “Did you see her not long ago? When she told you about her and Phil?” Marco has pulled up a chair so he can sit and be eye level with Michael. It’s a small gesture, but I think it’s important.

  “Yeah, but I just thought she’d gotten fat. I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

  The guys get a good laugh at that for a minute. I can see Michael’s face settle into something serious, so I interject. “We’re still trying to find our table. Can we catch up with you guys later? It was nice meeting you.”

  We finally find our places. The tables are a bit unusual in that they’re an oblong oval shape, rather than the standard round. I look at the eight chairs surrounding the table, three on each side and one on each end. I don’t know how to handle this. Does Michael stay in his chair? What do I do?

  “Pull that end chair out and I’ll sit there. You can be my right hand man. Err, woman.”

  I begin to pull out the chair, but a uniformed staff member whisks it away for me. Michael pulls up to the table and reaches under to depress his brakes. Then, he puts his hands on the armrests and lifts his body up, like he’s going to stand. I’ve seen him do it a hundred times, relieving the pressure on his bottom.

  Then it hits me. “My girl?”

  A sheepish smile spreads across his face, accompanied by a shrug. “It just popped out. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Now it’s my turn to shrug. “I don’t know. But I do know that if we were at my ex’s wedding, and he thought our relationship was a little more involved that it really is, I’d be okay with that.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that for tonight, you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend? Isn’t that a little high school?”

  “Well, I am only twenty-four. I’m not an old man like you are.”

  “Thirty-one is not that old.” Ever since his birthday last week, I’ve been ribbing him about his age.

  “Your secret is safe with me.” I elbow him a little. “I just can’t believe this.”

  “Well, at least we’ll get a good meal and an awkward laugh.”

  “It’d better be a good meal, since we’re not taking advantage of the bar.”

  “Speak for yourself, woman. I may look fine, but I’m gonna need something to help me get through this.”

  I can hear some pain in his voice. “Let me go get it for you. What do you want?”

  I make my way up to the bar to get his drink. The battle within me rages. Do I drink? Do I choose not to drink? Until the moment I step up and order a Scotch rocks and a club soda, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know I want to drink. I know how easy it would be.

  Michael needs me tonight. I need to be a grown up for once. I can do this. It won’t be that hard, putting someone else’s needs before my own. I can’t imagine what this must be like for him. I know Lainie hurt him, deeply, and when he was at his lowest point. It doesn’t make me think highly of my cousin. On the other hand, there aren’t a lot of reasons to think highly of me either. So, I can do this. I can do whatever Michael needs me to do to get through this.

  Walking back to the table, a moment of panic clutches my stomach. What if Michael starts touching me? What if he carries this on when we get home and wants me to … do stuff … with him? That thought stops me in my tracks. Why would I even think such a thing? Michael is not like the other men I’ve known. I know that I can trust him. I know that he wants what’s best for me, like I do him. I put the drinks down on the table. “I just realized something.”

  Michael is talking to someone, and he’s startled by my declaration. He introduces me to his friend who excuses himself. “What did you just realize?”

  “That this—” I motion between us “whatever it is—is the most grown up relationship I’ve ever had.”

  “This—” he mimics my motion “—is what’s called a friendship.”

  “That’s what this is?”

  “Of course.” He looks at me and takes a sip of his drink. “Haven’t you had a friendship before?”

  “Not as an adult. I’ve had people in my life, and we mutually used each other for our own benefit. I called them friends, but it was nothing like this.”
<
br />   “Samirah, what kind of people were in your life?”

  “People just like me.” It’s sad but the truth.

  He reaches over and takes my hands. His hands are big and calloused from his wheels. His touch is warm and comfortable. There is no fear in my heart.

  “Well, look at these love birds!” The shrill voice breaks us out of our conversation. My hands fall down to my lap as my back straightens.

  Michael pushes back and wheels over to the woman approaching us. “Mrs. Hynek. Good to see you!”

  She leans down and gives Michael a hug and kiss, leaving a scarlet splotch on his cheek. “Are you gonna introduce me to this beautiful darling or what?”

  He provides the introductions. “Mrs. Hynek is Trevor’s mom. She was like my other mother growing up.”

  “You and Mitchell were so much of a handful that your mom needed all the help she could get. You always wondered how your mom found out what you did. She had a whole network of us spying on you.”

  “Yeah, like the time I skipped school.” He laughs and she joins him.

  “Which time, darlin’?”

  Michael looks at me. “I decided I was skipping school. I drove to school like I was supposed to, drove around back, and then decided to go cruising. I drove right by Mrs. Hynek. I knew she saw me, so I went back to school.”

  “Oh, man.” They’re laughing and I can’t help but join them.

  “No, that’s not the best part!” Michael continues, “About a month later, I decide to try the same thing.”

  “And there he goes, driving by me again. I guess it didn’t occur to him to vary his route.”

  “Mrs. Hynek, I don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t the sharpest tack.”

  “But you turned out just fine. We’re all proud of you. And being here tonight shows the fine man you’ve become.” She squeezes his shoulder and he places his hand upon hers. It’s such a touching gesture. Michael is really lucky. I know he’s paralyzed and all, but his life is so full of people who care about him. He doesn’t know what a gift that is.